Single issues, Part three

So, to recap, the whole idea of me being the type of confidant that makes me "one of the guys" which inadvertently (or is it subsequently?) eliminates me from the dating pool is starting to wear on my psyche/self-esteem/optimism of entering a steady partnership of sorts.  Most of that attributed to the internalized information involving the white supremacist, racist, sexist and colorist issues that seems hegemonic in dating culture/circles among other social relations (also driving me bonkers).

What am I, chopped liver? Let's continue...

There's always this inner fear that, maybe I'm reading into my invisibility and rejection too deeply. That I'm just a picky, reclusive outlier who needs to buck the shyness and be more emboldened and ask guys out. 

Yeah, about that...

I tried my luck online in that respect. And even though I did get one successful blind date out of it, my success rate has been less-than. As soon as I show someone a picture of my mug (whether it's smiling or straight-faced) potential dates just stop replying. I imagine that either they don't find me attractive or are intimidated by my penetrating stare, living off of popular cultured stereotypes that continue to plague some black women in all reality. 

And at the bar, I manage to get a drink, observe the scene and walk out unseen. Who cares if I constantly have a backpack on and dress kind of shabbily (meaning jeans, sneakers, and some kind of not-so-chesty shirt), not to mention the locks? I think I look lovely, but in reality, maybe folks are more attracted to people who show their bling, chesticles, and make-up to the nth degree. That, and the guys at the bar just don't seem that interesting on the surface.

Maybe it is just me.  I try to dress to impress too, sometimes, but to no real avail. Either that, or people befriend me just so I can listen to their troubles (among other things). Don't get me wrong, my listening and observances for friends is a gift I'm glad to share, but just know that you're not talking to a sponge, a hermit, or a priest/monk.  I can only take so much. 

And my socially awkward self kills me when trying to compliment people or remotely suggest/say that I'm interested in dating them, but I can have other-worldly conversations about other issues like a champ.  

Pretty lame, I know. 

To be concluded.