By Trevonnia Atily

Everyone has a single friend who always gives good advice but has never really been in a relationship. Well, that’s me. I’m the single advice-giver. I gained all my insight on dating and relationships through observing friends and family, social media and characters in TV and movies. Meanwhile, I never had much of a dating life of my own.

Growing up in a predominantly white neighbourhood, I put my non-existent love life down to being a black girl. I made the naive mistake of thinking college would be my opportunity to meet new people and finally explore dating. Instead, I would listen to friends talk about their boy mishaps, sex stories and situationships, while I stayed single. It seemed as if dating was happening to only those around me.

I’ve always found myself enamoured by the idea of love and romance – the effect of someone who binged too many romantic comedies and read even more books. After a while, there reached a point where the love I would read and watch on screen seemed to be a distant fantasy for myself. Since dating never came naturally to me, I came to believe that I might not ever get it, or at least not in the way I truly wanted.

Similar to the movies I expected the perfect meet-cute, friends to lovers trope, or an immediate spark that matched fireworks. In reality, the dating world has mostly shifted to online. I quickly realised that dating could never match up to the very extensive dreams of romance that filled my head.

Fast-forward to my first date at twenty-two. I accepted that I wasn't going to experience the cute first encounter at a coffee shop, bookstore or literally anywhere else. The curiosity and desire to finally experience dating for myself prompted the creation of my Bumble Date account. I’ll admit that I deleted and redownloaded it a thousand times before finally committing to using my profile.

For years, I often found myself being the initiator of the few interactions with men I’ve had. I don’t know what it feels like to be pursued and didn’t want my dating experience to involve me constantly ‘shooting my shot’. Joining Bumble Date is truly ironic, because women have to make the first move, but I had to start somewhere.

My expectations were very low. Everything about dating profiles is superficial; we only share snapshots of our lives that paint us in the best light. When I started receiving matches, I was shocked by the amount of people who swiped right on me because I have never received this kind of attention before. I had to sift through dozens of profiles: people who just wanted someone to talk to, couples who wanted to recruit a third to spice things up, those looking for a casual hook-up. It took several bad matches before landing someone who could hold a conversation past sexual topics.

When you start dating after not receiving much romantic attention throughout those crucial developmental years, it can feel jolting. When I began, I was unsure if I was ready to be vulnerable. What if they reject me? How will I know that I genuinely like them, or if I’m just excited that someone is showing interest in me?

Moments I always longed for began to feel like crippling nightmares, where instead of sweet butterflies I would feel my heart racing with nerves. A touch on a hand and hugs felt foreign. A simple caress would make me uncomfortable instead of earnest. I yearned for intimacy and a romantic connection, but when the time finally came I was constantly unsure of my emotions.

I was used to being the girl who would pine for crushes and create fake scenarios in my head. I became accustomed to ‘moving on’ from someone I was never even with. Suddenly, I was dating someone who was displaying signs of true intentions, and yet I struggled to accept their romantic attention.

Sadly, my first ‘relationship’ experience was far from sunshine and rainbows. Even though my then-boyfriend was younger than me, he had more experience when it came to sexual partners and relationships. In our early stages of dating, we established our boundaries: maintaining our own life and friendships outside of our relationship, open and honest communication, respecting desire for personal/alone time, and our right to privacy.

As our relationship progressed, the boundaries I set for myself were being crossed. I found myself always apologising for any and every slight disagreement. He would blame these growing pains on me due to it being my first relationship. He viewed my lack of experience sexually and romantically as a chance for moulding. I was very open about my virginity, which he took as me being naive, and he felt entitled to it just for being in a relationship with me. His trust issues and insecurities stormed our relationship and eventually became too much. Relationships shouldn’t be as stressful as it was with him.

What I’ve come to learn is that dating is complicated. There will be disappointments and adjustments. Adjusting in a relationship should never turn into reducing your standards or changing your boundaries. My short-lived first relationship was a stressful mess, but it was a learning experience – just not one I would want to relive.

As I’m getting older, I often still struggle with confidence and self-image. When I decide to try dating again, I know all the things I would do differently. Even though it can be painful as a dating late bloomer, having all my ‘firsts’ at a more mature age is way more fulfilling. At the end of the day, dating doesn’t come with a rule book. Everyone is just winging it.

Trevonnia Atily is a writer based in New Jersey. She writes everything from personal essays to poetry to film reviews. When she’s not writing, you can find her crocheting, reading the latest enemies-to-lovers novel or travelling the world.