Waiting to Speak

I don't mind first dates. Granted, with a five year monogamous relationship behind me, I haven't been on all that many. But the few dates I have been invited on have generally been entertaining, and if not so entertaining at the time they always deliver a worthwhile story.

Blame it on the same part of me that adores ice breaker games at school orientations. I like all the questions and answers. I like the challenge of figuring someone out, and on my most vain days, I like the opportunity to prove that I can be witty or endearing or surprising. Arrogant but true.

On a recent first(ish) date, I came to an unsettling realization.

Too often, I'm just waiting to speak.

He's was interesting, charming, funny, but I wasn't really listening. I'm too busy picking my next move. How will I respond? What cutesy anecdote can I tell? How can I make him laugh? I was stuck in my own head, missing the opportunity to really try to figure this guy out.

The realization is embarrassing. Do I ever just listen without an agenda?

Next time we hung out, I made a conscience effort to shut up. I had more fun. I'm pretty sure he had a better time too.

Truth is, we all like to talk about ourselves. (I keep a blog.) It's harmless human nature. This little experiment just reminded me that listening, really listening to someone else, is pretty fun too.