I don’t know how to flirt. For me, flirting is a bit like trying to run in quick sand. The intention and knowledge is there, but really you just end up stumbling, flustered and embarrassed.
I have pinned my largely unsuccessful love life down to my often laughable and poorly judged attempts at letting my crush know how I feel.
Some people are natural in the art of flirting, others, like me, are as skilled as a baby eating spaghetti.
I think it’s easy to determine whether you fall into the former or latter category. Think back to your last attempt at flirting and ask yourself; does it make you cringe internally and search for a nice black hole to swallow you up?
Why is flirting so hard?
There are just too many questions. How much playful teasing is too much before I’m just insulting them? Am I laughing too much? Does my hair look terrible? Am I being coy or just flat out ignoring them? Is it too soon to mention my fear of hoovers?
With all these, and many more, questions running through my mind, it’s no wonder my natural charm and charisma is absent when it comes to the objects of my affection.
It’s funny, because I know how to flirt, in the mechanical sense of the word. I know that cheeky innuendos, touching my hair, making eye contact and touching them every so often will give off the right signals. I know that laughing at their jokes is good and cheesy one liners are bad, but I’ve come to the conclusion that my “flirting” may actually be “accidentally rejecting people.”
When I’m attracted to you, I can become rather shy. Otherwise, I’m quite confident in talking to new people and being dominant in social situations. Throw a handsome face in the mix and that all goes out of the window.
Attraction leaves me likely to completely avoid eye contact, laugh at any suggestions of you-know-what and mocking then complimenting your personal traits.
It’s no wonder people may be confused as to whether I actually like them. The issue comes with sending signals; friendly isn’t flirty but flirty is friendly.
Even if a miracle occurs and I manage to stumble my way into hinting at my feelings, they may begin to wonder why I treat people I like as an annoying sibling.
If all flirting could take place over social media, I would be well on the way to Guru Status. Sadly, the mojo that the protection of a screen can give doesn’t translate to the real world, where you have no time to think about your response and have to overthink your body language until you begin to twitch.
It doesn’t help that I’m really shy when it comes to physical contact. You would think when someone I like makes a move to kiss me, I’d reciprocate. You wouldn’t think I’d flinch away or ignore the apparent attempt he made, because my anxiety kicked in before my brain did.
For the flirting-challenged, tips on “how to flirt” are patronizing and ridiculous. Look at his lips, get closer, and maintain eye contact… Sure, why don’t I just whip my underwear off while I’m at it, to really make sure the message is drilled home?
Maybe I shouldn’t even worry that I’m not the giggly, hair twirling and smooth as honey girl that has people falling at her feet. I’m smart, occasionally funny and know how to make people feel at ease. It’s ok that I call my crush an idiot and need a decent amount of alcohol in me to make the first move, because I’ll enjoy the company of a fellow flirting-handicapped human.
