The Idea of Meeting Someone Great Can Be as Scary as the Idea of Meeting No One At All

On the paralyzing fears that accompany connection.

With a dating app open and a list of matches before me, I know I could click on a face and begin a conversation. But that would open a door. It’s like Pandora’s Box. We want to know what’s inside — but do we?

I’m finding the idea of meeting someone just as terrifying as the idea of not meeting someone. I don’t want to go my whole life without a loving healthy relationship, but the idea of meeting that person is scarier than it’s ever been before. Call it a fear of intimacy or being emotionally unavailable, but I know what it’s like now to love and lose. The idea of taking that risk again isn’t easy.

No one has to tell me all that I have to gain from a healthy connection. I have had one. It just didn’t work out in the end. I can guarantee that it grew me into the person I am, but it didn’t happen painlessly. The love was all-encompassing. So was the loss.

I’d like to have that feeling of partnership and all the romantic moments that happen along the way. What I’d like not to have again is that sharp stab of fear that anything gained can be lost again. Can become will be. The anxiety keeps me frozen, hovering over faces and names I won’t know unless I click.

Some people gain and lose new connections without that gnawing sense of unease, but for those of us with past trauma and a history of challenging relationships, we don’t have the luxury of forming new relationships without experiencing some discomfort. There are times I miss that long fall into love until I remember the crash landing. To have eyes meet and enjoy a first kiss is a powerful thing, but we don’t usually think about what it’s like the first time they avoid our eyes or the last time we kiss. That might make me sound like a pessimist, but the truth is that I’m trying to accept that the experience of the former could lead to the latter and still be okay with it.

A kiss that is never tasted, is forever and ever wasted. ~Billie Holiday

But hiding from pain isn’t less painful. It’s just the thing we tell ourselves when we’re still frozen by fear. There’s an excruciating experience of fear and anxiety that we deal with when we choose not to connect and decide to keep our worlds smaller. We’re missing out on the possibilities because we’re so afraid that they’ll go wrong that we forget to consider what happens if they go right.

I’m not the type of person who typically assumes life will go my way. I usually assume there will be obstacles, and I’ll have to roll up my sleeves and overcome them. It’s the story of my life, and it feels like it always will be. So, when I meet someone that I truly like, I’m more likely to worry about the potential of loss than to allow myself to daydream of a happy future. It’s something I’m aware of and working on.

You know, the man of my dreams might walk round the corner tomorrow. I’m older and wiser and I think I’d make a great girlfriend. I live in the realm of romantic possibility. ~Stevie Nicks

The reality is that we’re not going to wake up one day and be so entirely healed from the painful times in our past that we never again experience fear. What is possible is that we can heal enough to take some risks and to learn to grow through our challenges. As we enter secure relationships, we find our nervous systems soothed rather than activated, and over time, we’re more likely to rely on that security rather than question it.

We might think that healing is impossible without that security, but I’ve found other ways to create that sense of stability without a romantic relationship. Strong, connected friendships have helped create a system of support I can count on. Working on strengthening family relationships has also built more stability in my life. I might not have a partner, but I have a strong sense of help and so much emotional support in my life. It allows me to work through my fears — and to talk through them.

I’ve been single for a while and I have to say. It’s going very well. Like… it’s working out. I think I’m the one. ~Emily Heller

When I sit frozen in front of the screen when I can initiate a conversation, I know I’m being a little neurotic. I understand all the reasons why it’s scary to think of moving forward and all the reasons why it might be scarier not to. It’s okay to be undecided. It’s okay to practice the pause and make sure I’m ready before moving forward. It’s the most responsible thing I could do right now.

Too often, I’ve been on the other side of someone’s thoughtless actions. I’ve been the person dating someone who wasn’t sure what they wanted and was not, in fact, emotionally available enough to be connecting with others in the first place. Sometimes, we don’t know until we know, but there are other times when we don’t stop to consider the ramifications of what we’re doing before we do it.

So, right now, I’m okay with the pause. It’s the deep breath before the leap. I know I deserve to make that leap. I know that there could be someone out there more than ready to leap right along with me. I also know that it’s possible that that person doesn’t exist for me and finding that out for sure can’t be any worse than wondering.

First best is falling in love. Second best is being in love. Least best is falling out of love. But any of it is better than never having been in love. ~Maya Angelou

For now, I wait. I consider. I work on my healing and do what I can to soothe the fear that arises when I think about initiating a simple conversation.

When I’m ready, I’ll move forward. I’ll say hello. I’ll do the “putting myself out there” thing that people are endlessly telling singles like it never occurred to us. I’ll create more opportunities for love to find me.