Three Strikes and You’re Out?
By Erin McBride and Juli Caldwell

I was a whiny single’s ward girl who was among the perennially unasked out girls. I watched with inherent bitterness while the guys I liked drooled all over every girl, it seemed, but me. What was so different and so great about them? Why did they get asked out while I spent Friday night after Friday night at home with the latest chick flick on DVD, a bowl of light microwave popcorn, and my home manicure kit? It was on one of these nights alone that I decided to do the unthinkable: I was going to cross the line. I had a plan. I would decide which male was most worthy of my charms and ask him out. In my nervous excitement, I made a few calls to friends and arranged a group date to honor the occasion. Now…to find a man.

The first object of my affection was James* (*please note here that all names have been changed to save the author from further humiliation), the impossibly adorable and spiritually rich Sunday School teacher whose class demographics were 98% female, and 2% the men he shared an apartment with. We had spoken briefly before and never about anything significant, but I was about 27% sure he knew my name. I stepped up my post-class flirtation that Sunday, then called after church and managed to leave a rather unprepared, embarrassing message on the answering machine before he called me back and made his polite refusal. Maybe it was good that I was about 73% sure he had no clue who I was. I felt a little bit better when, a few weeks later, his engagement to one of the sweetest girls I have ever met was announced. They were the perfect couple. Yeah for them! Strike one for me.

My second victim was Brett*, a large, ruddy fellow whom I knew fairly well. I was pretty sure that he at least knew my name! He was very athletic, the kind of guy who believes the church is true as long as there’s a basketball court in the gym. I also knew he was a ton of fun to hang around with. We had been to several of the same parties and had spent a fair amount of time flirting over the chips and salsa. He seemed like a good choice. Imagine my surprise when I enthusiastically told him about the group date, asked him if he would like to join me, and I heard him sputter, laugh, and snort a bit before telling me no. Really. Just a very blunt “no” and laughter was the reply I received. I managed to thank him for his time before hanging up in humiliation and running to the bathroom for a good cry. It didn’t bother me too much when, after this incident, he went out of his way to avoid me. I didn’t have too much to say to him either. At least, nothing I would say in front of my mother. Strike two.

The date was four days away. It was my brilliant idea to begin with, and now all my friends had dates but me. I had wasted too much precious time getting rejected. Brushing off the dust of shame and fear from my shoulders, I decided to play it safe for my third attempt. I picked a very good friend, Sean*, to invite as the date loomed perilously closer. I called him in my most upbeat, cheery voice as I explained the fun we had planned, and how I wanted to take someone I knew I would have a great time with and not have to worry about all that ridiculous first date stress and tension. He said he would love to go…but before I could begin my victory dance, he added that his grandmother had just passed away, and the funeral was the day of the date. Ouch! Strike three and she goes down swinging.

Benched But Not Out

Back to the bullpen I went, head hung low, basebell bat dragging behind me in the dirt. So where does the good, loving, smart, determined LDS girl go from here? I spent a good amount of time feeling sorry for myself, wondering what was wrong with me, trying to figure where I had gone wrong. I analyzed my strategy. I second guessed myself into a depression that Ben and Jerry, my therapists of choice, had little effect on. What should I do? What should I have done? Where do I go from here?

I decided to lose myself in the pages of a good book, my personal favorite, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. As I immersed myself in Lizzie’s story, I had an epiphany and suddenly realized where I had gone wrong. Lizzie was successful in love because she did not waste her time waiting for men to come to her or throwing herself at them shamelessly. She was attractive to the hero of the book because she was confident and happy with the person she was. She did not fall all over herself trying to impress men. She was sure in the knowledge of who she was and what she wanted. This doesn’t mean she didn’t have secret hopes and desires of getting swept off her feet. It means that she knew she was a good person with or without a man. He wanted her because she was happy with herself. She knew she had a lot to offer in all the relationships in her life, and that was enough to see her through.

This story does have a happy ending. Buoyed by Lizzie’s strength, I made one last attempt and was very pleased when another good friend from the ward agreed to come with us. We had a blast! It wasn’t because I succeeded in asking guys out. In fact, I think I crashed and burned, and burned, then squirted lighter fluid on myself and burned some more.

Sometimes the most difficult thing a girl can do is take control of her love life and ask out a guy. As LDS women, we learn to believe that acting aggressively in matters of love is taboo. No matter how progressive we are, there is still some tiny part of us that is afraid to step over the line that separates the asker from the asked. The asked woman is highly desired; the woman who asks may come across as pushy, needy, desperate, or a tragic combination of the three.

So what’s a good, loving, smart LDS girl to do when she realizes with no small amount of shock and horror that her love life is pathetically lacking? Does she step up her efforts at foyer flirtation in the church, hoping to catch the eye and spark the interest of the man of her dreams (or, at the very least, the ward’s featured flavor of the month?) Or does she hike up her skirt in the most modest way, take a deep breath, count to three, and step over the fearsome line?  Or retreat home to Ben and Jerry and a good novel?  Your comments, suggestions, and input are welcome!

We invite you to send in your responses to erinandjuli@yahoo.com , and look for your responses in our next column!

Do you have a topic you would like to see in a “Single Thought?”  Send it in to Erin and Juli at erinandjuli@yahoo.com!  Have a great week!