I am single. Happily single most of the time, however that’s not to say that I don’t date and I haven’t been in relationships. I do date and I have been in relationships, just right now, I am single, a cat lady and I love to starfish in my bed.
If you had asked me as a teenager, I should be married by now and well on the way to the 2.4 children that is the average. Life had different ideas for me and I feel mixed about that. It’s not that I don’t want a relationship: I have profiles on two online dating apps and I have been speed dating (that was an experience in itself!) but I am aware that I come with additional baggage and that can be a lot for someone else to take on. There are days when it feels like I haven’t come to terms with having long term illnesses, so how can I expect someone else to take that on as well?
Honestly, my experiences of dating with a chronic illness have been mixed. Trying to decide when to tell someone about the various chronic illnesses that I have is hard. Telling them too soon and they are likely to freak out, tell them too late and they are likely to be annoyed that you didn’t say something sooner.
I had a pretty bad experience with someone I met through an online dating app, I made the decision not to say anything about my health but I constantly felt like I was deceiving him. Things were going really well, but it got to the point that I had to tell him that I wasn’t well. I had just been offered my dream job but had to turn it down due to worsening health issues and obviously he asked questions about why I wasn’t in work. I explained that I had long term health conditions and because of that, I was in hospital a lot and not able to currently work. In an instant, it was clear that he had lost interest but also very clear that he didn’t really understand when he said “but you look fine?” Date night came to a rapid end and I never heard from him again. I’m not going to pretend that I was heartbroken, I wasn’t, but I was hurt, mainly because I expected better than that reaction. I had hoped that given he had got to know the “real” me, he wouldn’t be completely freaked out by what I said. How wrong I was. It hurt because it made me feel unloveable, a feeling that I have now experienced one too many times.
Learning from that experience, I decided to be honest earlier on in getting to know someone. And that didn’t go well either. I tend to start with the caveat similar to “this is a lot to take on, so I’m telling you now so that you have the choice to leave before we get to know each other better.” I don’t know if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s kind of giving them permission to run away and not feel like a dick about it. I get hurt, but hey, at least I’ve spared their feelings! On one occasion, I was asked numerous questions and felt like I was being interrogated. Then there was the radio silence, never to be heard from again. On another occasion I was told that it wasn’t going to work because he didn’t want to be with someone who would break during sex. For clarity, I do not “break” during sex. Another time, they had the decency to carry on talking to me for about ten minutes before disappearing into the abyss, never to be heard from again.
And I get it. It is a lot to take on. Quite often people can’t see beyond the illness or understand that if you take away all the health conditions, I am still a normal woman in her twenties, eventually wanting to settle down and think about having a family. Whilst I might joke and say that they weren’t the one, that doesn’t take away the hurt. It doesn’t take away from the fact that I feel undeserving of love because it’s too much for someone else to take on. It doesn’t take away from the fact that being loved for how I am is too much for the majority of people to take on. So yet again, I am left with having to pick myself up. I leave it for a while before dipping my toe back into dating, telling myself that this time, it will be different. I’m yet to have an experience that is different. I’m yet to meet someone who is fine with the fact that I’m a bit wonky and my body does weird things, but is prepared to love me for that. As well as feeling unloveable, I feel faulty. Like, can I return to sender and get a working body please? One that doesn’t freak people out.
Who knows, maybe in a year from now, I’ll look back at this blog post and smile because I am happy and in a relationship. Or I might still be psyching myself up to dip my toe back into the dating pond.
I don’t think there is a clear cut answer on how to address chronic illnesses when it comes to dating. I’m sure there are good people out there who understand, I’m just yet to find them.