The Guilt Trip


Have you ever met a guy and on paper—he’s great. But in reality, you’re just not into it? And then you almost feel like something’s wrong with you for not liking him? Ugh, it’s the worst, and it happens to me all the time.

The majority of my friends are in serious relationships or married (when did that happen?!), so I’ve quickly become the designated single person. I’m cool with it, for the most part. After all, it’s been almost four years now.

Regardless, because I am a successful, young woman with no man in her life (like seriously, nobody), my friends and even family members always take it upon themselves to try and hook me up with someone.

I’m not bothered by it…usually. It’s nice that they think of me when a nice, single fellow strolls along. But the problem is when I end up uninterested.

“But, Bruna! He’s such a good guy!”

I never said he wasn’t.

“He comes from a good family!”

That’s great.

“You need to give him a chance!”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. First of all, I don’t need to do anything. Second of all, I give plenty of guys chances. In fact, I was thinking about it earlier today…

I couldn’t even tell you how many guys I have met with for coffee, lunch, a movie, dinner, brunch, tea, etc., and had to fake smile my way through it, or pretend like I was intrigued by what they had to say when I really couldn’t care less, just because I didn’t want to prematurely assume anything.

So trust me when I say, I’ve given these guys chances. It’s not my fault, there’s nothing there.

But you still end up feeling this sort of guilt trip, and that’s what annoys me. Why do I feel like it’s my fault? Just because a guy is good on paper, doesn’t mean there’s going to be chemistry between the two of us.

You can’t fake chemistry when it’s not there. Just like you can’t deny it when it is.

Yes, you may be a solid man with a great career and a good head on your shoulders and a nice family and so on and so forth, but if I can’t be myself around you, if I can’t open up to you, if I don’t want to jump your bones when I see you—I’m sorry, I’m not the one for you and I can’t pretend to be. I shouldn’t have to.

I’ve stopped doing the whole oh-lets-just-meet-up-because-maybe-its-me-and-I-need-to-give-it-a-shot pity dates, because it’s only wasting both of our time. Sure, feelings can grow with time. And yes, I’ve gone after the wrong type of man in the past.

But as cliché as it sounds, I want that zha zha zhou. I want the butterflies. I don’t think I’m asking for much by saying that, and I definitely don’t think I need to settle for less than at this point in my life.

So to these men I say: It’s not because nice guys finish last. It’s not because I want the bad boy. It’s because I just don’t like you. Sorry.