Confidence is everything in the dating game. It’s everything in courting a woman. As a good friend once said, “No chick likes a soft cock.” And that’s true. We spend way too much time strategising, contemplating, then regretting lost opportunities. The guy who gets the girl is the one who asks. Just like the salesperson who gets the order is the one who asks for the order. But we don’t, until we do.
There comes a point where we go for it, and she says, yes.
Once we leap that giant hurdle – that first date, first kiss, first time we have sex – we’re never the same again. As we grow in confidence, as we experience more of what we’ve been denying ourselves, unintentionally, we become men. It’s part of the process; the awkwardness teaches us.
I sucked at picking up in my youth. My lack of confidence led to a crippling fear of rejection. It was better to be single, to be dateless, than to be rejected.
How easy was it to be rejected? Too easy. What was I afraid of, anyway, the word no?
In my head, I was thinking about the end result before the first step, at any chance I got. Objectifying. I was thinking, I wanna fuck her, before, I want to know her name. The idiotic thing was, I didn’t even know how to kiss, let alone where to put my dick. We’re all guilty of this when we’re young.
In retrospect, I wished I had the guts to accept rejection, and see it as motivation to try again. Instead, I let it consume me. Why were girls saying, no? I wasn’t unattractive or unfit.
Quite simply, I didn’t know how to communicate. I was both innocent and guilty as charged.
I also tried too hard to punch above my weight, so to speak; the theory of supply and demand. For every pretty girl, there were dozens of guys after her, and the choice was hers. So, like many of my friends, I cared more about pride than to delve into the unknown.
Was it better to experience things with someone who wasn’t the most attractive girl, or hold out until I was accepted; chosen by one of the hot ones? Of course, it’s shallow. It’s a juvenile mind at work. But that’s how I thought, and I was not alone. Most of my friends were great at talking shit about how many chicks they’d pulled, but in all reality, they were pulling themselves – most likely to American porn.
It wasn’t until a young girl named Chloe, whom I’d met working in a call centre part-time for some pocket-money, accepted my request for a date (half-jokingly), that Confidence and I got acquainted.
Chloe was blonde with green eyes, bubbly and cheeky. We got on well. I made her laugh between calls. I put on voices. I made fun of the boss. She saw me as a kind of larrikin, not the introvert I thought I was.
I drove her home one afternoon and she let me kiss her. It was then I realised what I had missed out on by being so scared of rejection. Once I’d let go of my insecurities, took that opportunity, and relaxed, I felt something wonderful.
Every kiss from that moment on was not filled with apprehension, but excitement. I went from running away to seeking it out.
Acceptance leads to experience, and experience leads to understanding; understanding to confidence.
It’s that fear of the unknown that holds so many (young) men back.
What would the mature, and now experienced me tell my younger self?
Let it go, love is waiting for you.