The Story of the Pistachio: Chapter 2 – Dating an English Man in Australia

After I moved to Australia, and soon after I began my pistachio story, I began dating an English man that was actually worth writing about.

This is his story.

The Story of the Pistachio:

Chapter 2:  Dating An English Man in Australia

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Not too long after writing The Unattainable Girl, I was ready to put this new personal breakthrough to the test.  I decided to go back online, and have another look at all of those dozens of profiles I have never given an “open shelled” chance. Right away I came across a profile that I know I have checked out multiple times in the past, but something had always prevented me from actually perusing.

His pictures were okay, his profile was okay..everything was just a bit vanilla when compared to my usual pickings. Even without that Double Dutch Chocolate factor to his profile, I knew there had to be something there by the number of times I have contemplated messaging him.

MICHELLE,  HERE WE GO!!! OPEN UP THAT DAMN SHELL AND ACTUALLY MESSAGE THIS GUY!

Subsequent to my initial message, we began chatting back and forth for weeks, each chat getting a bit deeper and deeper building interest.  Weeding out that he wasn’t crazy or a douchebag, uncovering many similar interests and confirming there might actually be some potential.

We finally were able to organize a day to meet within our busy schedules, and very unlike me, I was genuinely looking forward to seeing what this guy was all about.

I was at a bar with girlfriends, waiting for his arrival when I received a text.  He had text to give me a heads up that he now had a beard and to be on the lookout for a “bearded man.”……………… A bearded man???

SHIT!

I HATE BEARDS!!!!!

Right away, I naturally began to freak out due to my huge dislike of beards, and almost grabbed my bill and like a prom dress, quickly took off. With my friends there to remind me how ridiculous I was sounded, I was able to advise myself, “Michelle DONT do your normal routine, DONT pull your normal shit.. keep an open mind, you love English men and  it’s just a stupid beard.”

Luckily when he walked in, the burly timberman I had just irrationally pictured in my head was not the case, and I could start to refocus on why I wanted to meet him and not on the beard bomb that had just been dropped.

I was very pleased with my decision to stay, as the night ended up turning out to be really wonderful.  For the first time in a long time, I actually enjoyed a man’s company for more than 10 minutes and I even had the desire to see the English fella again; practically unheard of in Michelle-land.

One amazing time then led to another amazing time, until it came time for me to leave for a holiday back home. During my two weeks away, we spent that time really getting to know each other and developing, what felt like somewhat the start of a relationship,

“The Situation”

 When I left for Los Angeles, I was put in a bad position where I would not have a place to live upon my return. I had many offers of friends couches to choose from, OR… this guy was kind enough, and well, frankly brave enough, to open up his home to me for a bit until I found a place.

Now, I know what you are all thinking……

That’s a horrible idea! That’s crazy!?

What if this!?! And what if that!?!..yadda yadda yadda yaddda..Trust me I know!!!

  WE BOTH KNEW.

I recognized this was in no way conventional, but I am in no way a conventional girl. My only real honest concern was that I would get sick of him like I do most guys, and then be stuck at his place wanting to shoot myself in the face as my brilliant plan of escape.

But as part of this “opening up the shell process”, I decided this was a great opportunity to really do it, a big opportunity, maybe the BIGGEST way for me to open my shell. So instead of focusing on all the reasons why I shouldn’t accept his offer, I focused on the reasons why I should.

And that was that – Offer Accepted

During the weeks of living together, everything was wonderful. I felt comfortable there, I felt comfortable with him and with the decision I had made in staying there. My fears of losing interest or getting annoyed were proven to be wasted thoughts, as what I actually experienced was the exact opposite.

The more time we spent together, the more I enjoyed his company and the way he made me feel.  There was absolutely an extra skip in my step those few weeks, a bit of smiling off into space for no good reason, something I had not experienced in a very very very long time.

I actually really really liked dating this English Man.

There was a defining moment, where I pinpointed exactly when I realized I had lowered my shell and let him in and I don’t think there was any going back after that.

I had witnessed something that made him very happy, that then in return, made me happy. It was then I finally realized, Crap, I actually deeply cared for this guy.

When someone else’s happiness makes you happy, that’s when you know you’re screwed.

But that very same night I had this amazing epiphany about him, he had one of his own about me.
It wasn’t that he too deeply cared about me, no no no.. he instead realized he no longer saw any potential for the future and it was best that I probably go.

Oh, the irony.

 At that moment I felt..well, I wasn’t sure exactly what I felt because it’s been so long since I have felt anything like this. Pain? Sure. Indignant? Oh yeah. Like an Idiot? Huge one.

All I knew was that I was sad, really just….sad. Profoundly sad it had to be over.

Being a genuinely nice guy, he took time to explain to me his situation and make sure I understood what had gone wrong between us. Though he didn’t exactly “kicked me out”,  he definitely didn’t make it comfortable for me to still stay there. I tried for days to get out of the painful living situation, but with the Sydney storm and bad timing, I was miserably stuck. Stuck there laying alone in his bed while he was out…trying to act like I was okay, while secretly hiding the tears streaming down my face and on to his pillow.

My first attempt at opening my shell ended almost as quickly as it began, and it killed me that there was nothing I could do to fix it.

My Open Shell Recipe

 I believe I was triumphant in doing what I needed to do for myself, even if it resulted in a mini broken heart. I took a lot of time to reflect and think what all really contributed to my personal success with opening my shell and realized it was a combination of timing, my mindset, and him.

So now What?

Regardless of the unsuccessful relationship, I am able to leave the situation in a very good place.  A place where now, I know I can actually truly care for a guy when I was convinced I was forever broken.  Old Michelle would have never given this guy a chance, probably for stupid reasons..maybe a beard, or the vanilla profile. But I was able to get over that stupid closed shell nonsense and fall for this English man.  A man who I found captivating while reminding me of all the great adventures I have been missing out on by living with a closed shell.

So this now leaves me feeling very excited, motivated and positive about my future with love, as I think it should for everyone. We can learn a lot about ourselves when attempting a relationship, especially when things may not go in our favor. Personal growth still occurs, and that is a huge win on its own.

 If the first time attempt to open my shell and give a guy a real chance turned out to be this significant, I wonder what all I am now capable of seeing and feeling in others moving forward. Now that I know I can do this, I feel like the possibilities are endless for me, and that the world really just might be my oyster after all.

But to think…

All of this almost never was …all because of a stupid beard??

🙂

Ready to read the next Chapter?  Boom

Never read the first Chapter? Here you go