A Reflection on Dating, Desire & What it Means to be Truly Seen
I went on a date recently. It was pleasant enough…the conversation flowed, there was warmth, there was laughter. And yet, somewhere in the middle of it, I noticed something missing.
He was interested in how I looked. He kept steering things toward the physical…light touches, compliments about my appearance, comments that were meant to flatter but somehow it made me mad.
So I said it plainly: “I want to get to know you. And I want you to have enough interest in knowing me.”
Instead of leaning in, he turned it around; wondering aloud whether I wasn’t attracted to him, whether I didn’t want him to touch me. As if my longing to be known was somehow a rejection of him.
“There is a kind of hunger that goes deeper than the body. It wants to be witnessed. It wants someone to ask the questions that matter.”
The mirror we don’t often look into
I don’t want to blame men for this. That feels too easy and too incomplete. This is societal. It’s in the fabric of how many of us were raised.
Women are praised for their femininity, their appearance, their softness. That praise starts early – from family, from media, from everywhere – and it shapes what women believe they’re valued for. Men are praised for providing, for achieving, for financial security. The more successful, the more handsome he almost seems.
So when these two conditioning patterns meet across a dinner table, we get a mismatch: one person offering what they’ve been told makes them attractive; the other person hoping to be asked about who they actually are.
Imagine if a woman, on a first date, immediately asked: “What do you make? Are you willing to support me financially?” Most men would feel like they are a wallet, not as a person. That’s exactly what it can feel like to be seen only as a body.
This isn’t about blame…
Most men who lead with physical attention aren’t even aware that they’re doing it. They’ve been programmed just as women have; and they’re following it as best they know how. That doesn’t mean we have to accept it. It means we get to bring more awareness to it.
In my work as a breathwork and somatic practitioner, I see this pattern everywhere: the way we’ve been taught to inhabit our bodies has disconnected us from our hearts. We move through the world leading with appearance, with status, with what we can offer materially because we were never invited to lead with depth.
Dating is just one place where this disconnection becomes visible.
To the women reading this
How do you balance being fully, beautifully feminine and also holding your ground when someone moves too fast, too physical, too soon?
I don’t think those two things are in conflict. There’s a kind of softness that can also hold a clear boundary. The breath teaches us this. You can be completely open and completely boundaried at the same time.
What’s worked for me: saying the true thing, calmly. Not as a test. Not as a wall. Just as an honest offer: this is who I am, and this is what I need in order to feel safe enough to be present with you.
To the men reading this
Would it bother you if a woman looked at you and only saw your income? If her first questions were about your salary and what you could provide? That feeling of being reduced, of being used as a resource rather than known as a person!
Not as an accusation. As an invitation. Because most of the women who are longing to be truly known by you are also longing to truly know you. Not your job. Not your car. You.
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I believe in connection. I believe people are aching for it on both sides. The body is not the enemy here. Physical attraction is real and it matters. But it’s one thread in a much richer weave.
What would it feel like to slow down enough to find the other threads?
That’s the question I’m sitting with. I’d love to hear yours.
Much Love,
Linda
