Commitment Phobes vs. Commitment Hoes (Part 1)

“When will he finally settle down?” “Why is he so clingy?” “Can’t he just call me his girlfriend?” “Doesn’t he understand I need space?”

No, I haven’t lost my mind; these are all questions I’ve asked myself and friends over the course of the last year. Maybe you’re thinking “She must be the problem” and I’d have to say, I’ve questioned that too. But for arguments sake, let’s just assume I’m not the problem, and that there really are these 2 species of men; those who are emotionally unavailable and scared to commit, and those who are for lack of a better term, emotional sluts. This is not rocket science, and I wouldn’t claim to be an expert on anything science related, but what I do know, is men-more specifically, men with commitment issues.

I’ve had the pleasure, over the course of the last decade to meet and date a variety of men. One of my favorite activities and you may think this is slightly disturbing, is categorizing each guy. Some call it “sizing up” but I like to think there is slightly more organization and intelligence in what I do. It can take anywhere from the first date to about the fourth (if the relationship progresses that far).

Take for example John, a cute Japanese guy I met while at my first (and last) speed dating function. I should have realized that trying to meet and decide if I wanted to date a guy in less than 5 minutes would probably bring out the stage-5 clingers, but I figured, I’ve met guys in bars in about the same amount of time and accepted their date invitations, what could be the harm in this? Plus, it was a great excuse to get out of the house on a Sunday night with a girlfriend of mine and have a good laugh. Note to self: Meeting a guy at a bar, not the best idea; meeting a guy at a function designed to minimize face and talk time, even worse!

I’d like to include a disclaimer at this time, because I’m sure there is some sweet girl reading this right now saying, “I’ve always wanted to speed-date” or better yet “I met my boyfriend speed-dating who are you to judge, you’re still single?” All I can say is, direct your hate – mail to the email below, I love feedback!!

Back to John, the smart, driven, seemingly normal guy who was one of two men I checked yes to on the “would you date this guy’ checklist handed to me upon arriving at the speed dating bar. I was immediately attracted to him, but given the options, I’m convinced it really was a numbers game. If there are 30 guys in a room, and only 5 are a 7 or above, and only 2 of those 5 are your type, how many will you say yes to? That’s right, 2 is the magic number here folks! Since bachelor #2 didn’t work out for entirely different reasons, we’ll discuss John, because he happens to be a perfect example of a commitment junkie, as I like to refer to him. We exchanged witty banter and obviously found each other physically appealing, so the next step, after our intense 4 ½ minute speed date, was a traditional date which started out fine. He made reservations at a cute Spanish restaurant close to my neighborhood, which I thought was very considerate. He also ordered my first drink for me, I thought weird, but OK, I’m open to acts of “chivalry”, I’ll let it slide.

It wasn’t until the middle of my Amaretto Sour (which for some reason he assumed I would like because my genitalia goes in, instead of out) that I knew I was in for a long night, and not in a good way. We skipped the casual conversation, because obviously our lengthy conversation at speed dating had given him all the information he needed to know I was The One. He discussed my New Years plans (with him) and meeting his mother when she came into town the following month before I’d had a chance to polish off my second drink (a more suitable choice, Stoli, with a splash of lime juice).

By the time we were seated for dinner, I had drowned my sorrows in 2 more drinks and was beckoning the waitress over for my next. “Don’t you think you ought to slow down?” he asked “I want you to remember our first date.” “First date?” I scoffed to myself, as I assured the waitress that I needed another before the appetizers came out, “Did this guy really think there would be another?” He then insisted that he order for me, because obviously, at the tender age of 26, I had not yet mastered the art of decision making. Had I been more sober and less hungry, I would have excused myself when he began to ramble on about his life, and how perfectly suited we were for each other. In our very special time together he informed me of his deep desire to settle down and “skip all the silliness of dating” and he believed I would be the one to “turn it all around for him, especially given our shared heritage”. Did I mention that I’m half Japanese, half Irish? John assured me that, although most men from “our world” weren’t as progressive, he did not mind in the slightest that I was only half Asian. This is a topic all unto itself, so I’ll save that for another time! Needless to say, I learned more about John in our 2 hour date (yes, I stuck it out until the end) than I have in some of my most serious relationships.

John is the extreme, and I realize this, but he’s not the first guy I’ve encountered who wants a Chia-Pet girlfriend, “just add water, and watch it grow”. He wanted the instant gratification of a girlfriend, willing to fill the role with any girl that matched his criteria even loosely (even a mut like myself). And in order to fill the spot he was willing to open up to things that take some men, months, even years to divulge.

After the disaster that was John, I swore off all men that even resembled the “relationship-type’, opting for the more self assured, independent type. Much to my surprise, he too was looking for me, but little did I know he would come equipped with a whole new suitcase of issues. Allow me to introduce you all to the Commitment Phobe.

To Be Continued…

You can contact Mari here mari.ogawa1@gmail.com or leave a message below.

To read part 1 visit Commitment Phobes vs Commitment Hoes Part 2