I had a date with a guy once. His name was Mitchell. He was in a band that I hired for a youth event and he was pretty insistent on asking me out. Even the teens knew he was. I said yes.
On our first date he took me to a nice dinner in downtown Minneapolis. It was a nice dinner and we had a nice conversation. After that dinner we were walking on that nice summer evening in downtown Minneapolis. Then suddenly he was down on his knees before me and proposed marriage. In front of a crowd… Who stopped to watch… I said no to his proposal without even explaining why. Very loudly to the crowd Mitchell declared, “Love is like green bananas. It takes time to ripen.” The date ended shortly after that.
When you practice brave dating (Dating to discover who you are. The result of this learning process will then lead you to a good match to give you that love for a lifetime you desire.) sometimes you date clunkers. This is a risk you take. But isn’t dating always a risk? Vulnerability is required. Believe it or not though, brave dating is one of those safer risks because you aren’t placing so much pressure on this one date hoping he/she may be “the one.” You are just dating and learning.
A side benefit is sometimes you get to do some really fun things on that date. Especially if you can help shape the date idea to be something fun.
Another side benefit is you may have a great story to tell your friends that will cause laughter for many years to come. You don’t get that story without taking this step of bravery. And a proposal mixed with love is like green bananas is a story worth telling again and again.
Mitchell and I had a second date, sort of. His band was playing at the county fair and I was there. He took me on a ride on the ferris wheel. At the top of the ferris wheel, he proposed again. I said no again. And he confidently said, “Love is like bubbles. It takes time to rise to the surface.”
I never saw Mitchell again. But I heard he got married to someone else not too long after. Is anyone surprised?
Originally published at Bravester with permission from Brenda Seefeldt Amodea.