This essay uses a humorous and self-deprecating tone to explore the complexities of self-acceptance and self-love. The author draws parallels between dating themselves and navigating typical relationship dynamics, complete with the challenges and rewards of self-awareness and communication.
The piece is peppered with pop culture references from the 80s and 90s, creating a nostalgic backdrop that adds to its charm. These references—from Walkmans and Tiger Beat magazine to iconic characters from shows like My So-Called Life and Reality Bites—highlight the author's personal history and create a sense of relatable intimacy.
While acknowledging the difficulties of self-reflection and dealing with personal struggles, the author celebrates the unique aspects of their self-relationship. They discuss the challenges of social interaction while valuing the benefits of self-acceptance and self-compassion. The essay highlights the importance of understanding and communicating with oneself, even when facing self-doubt.
Ultimately, the essay promotes the idea of self-love as a worthwhile journey, even with its ups and downs. The author concludes by embracing their self-relationship with humor and positive self-perception, emphasizing the unique advantages of dating themselves.
I listened to music on a Walkman. I read books in elementary school so that I could earn free personal-pan pizzas from Pizza Hut. I had a subscription to Tiger Beat, a magazine about teen celebrities that was printed on actual paper. I can’t stop calling things “awesomesauce” and addressing everyone as “dude.”
I know I’m really dating myself here. I should be as embarrassed as Angela Chase when she repeatedly misread Jordan Catalano’s signals. But, to be honest, outdated cultural references are one of my favorite things about dating myself.
My style, I know, is obsolete. I think I look frumpy in slouchy pants, so I’m sticking with my skinny jeans. I hate when any part of my socks is visible. My hair is parted to the side—it looks so nerdy parted in the middle! I know I’m still dating myself, but what do I care? At least the person I’m dating thinks I look hot.
Plus, the simultaneous orgasms are as satisfying as they are inevitable.
Dating myself comes with some difficulties, though, especially in social situations. When I take myself to parties, I find myself feeling as awkward as Felicity on her first day of college. It’s frustrating that I can’t trust myself to just independently mingle. I want to chat, carefree, with friends and acquaintances, but I have no idea what to do with myself.
As challenging as it can be to date myself around others, being alone with myself is often worse. In small doses, I find myself charming, but when I’m stuck with myself day in and day out, the George Clooney charisma quickly devolves into more of an Andy Dick vibe. I often wish I could have some time away from myself—like Ross and Rachel’s break. But then I imagine how annoying it would be to date someone who didn’t appreciate these pop-culture touchpoints, and I love dating myself all over again.
It’s not just our shared cultural memory. At my age, I’m just as liable to forget things, like the guy in “Memento.” But when you’re dating yourself, missing a date is no big deal, because the person you’re dating stood you up at the exact same time, and neither of you will ever know.
On the other hand, dating myself leaves me with nothing to distract me from myself. I can be hard on myself. Once I upset myself, I have no idea how to make myself feel better. When I have these problems with myself, I don’t even need my adjustable-size mood ring to confirm it: I’m sad.
Relationships are hard; they don’t come with an accordion-fold pamphlet of lyrics you can sing along to, like cassette tapes do, or a Rand McNally road map you can keep in your glovebox in case you get lost. Communication is key. That’s why, when troubles arise, I talk to myself.
My friends and family say they’re concerned about how much I talk to myself. They’re as nosy as my little brother was when he would eavesdrop on my phone conversations through the kitchen extension. I think they’re as jealous of my relationship with myself as Troy Dyer was of Lelaina’s relationship with Michael in “Reality Bites.”
But I told everyone that I’ll talk to myself as much as I want. Who needs them when I have myself?
So now it’s just me, dating myself. And it’s pretty awesomesauce, dude. ♦
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