Welcome back to 100 Dates in Houston, a dating blog series chronicling my journey as a thirty-something woman on a quest to100 dates in Houston, Texas. My goal is to connect with the love of my life. If you’re new here, start with my intro post. It explains the details of this challenge. In today’s post, we explore getting back in the game after a setback, as well as the value of tuning out the noise. Let’s jump back in!

What did that Blasian man do to me?! As I sit to write my update, I realize it’s been almost two months since my last date.  At this rate, it’ll take me fifteen years to reach 100 dates.  This hiatus hasn’t been intentional, but it’s no surprise either. I needed time to get my head back together after another dating setback. 

Although I had only dated four men in Houston thus far, between the apps and real-world encounters, I had met MANY. Blasian Bae had come the closest to checking all my boxes. Getting back in the game seemed daunting.

I would open Bumble and begin swiping.  

Bald. 👈

Bald. 👈

Has kids and doesn’t want more. 👈

Bald. 👈(I’m only slightly kidding about this.  I’ll date a bald man – if I must.)

Red Pill pusher. 👈

Boring. 👈

How was I supposed to pick matches when no one stood out?  At least a quarter of the men on Bumble didn’t even take time to write a bio – let alone write an interesting one.

Am I The Problem?

Old thought patterns began to surface when I came across a video from a dating coach.  His advice was that if you’re only swiping right in one out of every 20 profiles, you’re being too picky and need to change your strategy.  

Maybe that was my problem.  Perhaps my standards were too high and my interests were too narrow.  After all, I had just let go of a great match – even if it was to honor my values. I began to feel the anxiety of needing to do the “right” thing.  Should I open up and swipe on any-ole’ -body that seems stable? Or should I follow only what catches my attention? Was I too picky?

Following the video from the dating coach, came a message from Tyler Perry who had appeared on a podcast geared towards Black women. His words: “As long as he’s secure in himself to know that ‘yeah, she makes most of the money, all I can pay is the light bill.’ As long as she’s comfortable enough to say ‘I’m gonna cover the mortgage and all the other stuff, that is fine.”  Tyler was suggesting that the picky, superficial preferences of professional Black women are to blame for their singleness. (I wrote a response to Tyler here, if you’re interested.)

Finally, there was my therapist of ten years.  This woman has witnessed me evolve over the years and knows the many aspects of my personality. From the recovering good girl, to the ambitious dreamer, to the pseudo-feminist, she knows them all. While discussing my dilemma of releasing Blasian Bae, she suggested that I would be hard-pressed to find a man who is both Christian and truly sees women as equals.  During the next session, she challenged my statement about needing a partner with a prayer life.  Her exact words were “You think you need that, but do you really?”  As a person who has encouraged me to trust myself and listen more to my voice, her questioning (and not to mention the ethical violation of cultural competency) shifted my confidence in the dating decisions I’d been making.  

So I vacillated. Some days, I would refrain from the apps altogether, knowing that I wasn’t in the best state of mind to be dating. On other days, I would show up apathetically, trying to will myself into interest.

Tuning Out the Noise

Hoping to work my way out of my dating funk, I booked a session with Coach Joyice and discussed a strategy for the problem of my supposed pickiness.  We concluded that I would set a goal to swipe on at least four out of every twenty men in my Bee-line – even if I was on the fence.  It would be an experiment if nothing else. 

After a few weeks of implementing my strategy, I had gathered enough intel.  I discovered that my first impression was generally correct.  The men with no bios in their profiles typically were very passive in conversation, waiting for me to do all the work.  The men who seemed to be a good time usually only wanted a good time.  

And then it dawned on me.  With so much noise about being less picky, my inner voice was being drowned out.  Rather than following my inner wisdom, I was placing too much value on the opinions of the “experts”.  I needed to ground myself and do what felt right for me.

So, I cleared out the noise and disconnected from some of the accounts I had been following for years. The coaches, therapists, and other experts had taken me far enough. My inner voice would take me the rest of the way. 

The Winds of Change

Shortly after deciding to tune out the noise, the winds of change blew my way and carried me out of my dating hiatus.  One Thursday afternoon, seeking to network and find ideal clients for my therapy practice, I attended The Houston Tech Industry Mixer, hosted by MixerCloud. 

When I arrived at The Westin Galleria where the event would take place, I was a bit unsure of what direction I would find the ballroom.  I took the first set of escalators I saw.  As the escalators carried me up, a nice-looking Black man shouted from the ground floor.

 “Are you lost? The event is that way,” he asked, pointing to a set of elevators.

“I might be. Is that the networking event?” I shouted back, halfway up the escalator.

“Yes!” he laughed. “You just looked so innocent, I figured you might be lost.” There was a silly nature about him.  

I made it to the top of the escalator and circled back around to head down to the elevators. By the time I made it back to the ground floor, the gentleman was gone. I didn’t make much of it and went on to find the event.  

I took the elevator to the twenty-fourth floor and stepped into a ballroom with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing stunning city views. Scores of black professionals within the tech industry filled the room.  I mixed, mingled, and passed out my business cards.

About halfway through the event, while standing in line to take a free professional headshot, the gentleman reappeared next to me.  

“So you made it?” He joked.  

We chatted for a bit and I gave him the same elevator pitch I had given everyone else about my therapy practice – but this time accompanied by a subtle hint of flirtation. I told him I was new to Houston and he shared helpful information about the area.  He cracked a few jokes but seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.  He stood at about 6’2’’.  While height isn’t super important to me, it’s nice to have a taller man by my side. It feels safe and sturdy – like an oak tree, that I can climb. 🙃 But y’all know what really matters  — the hairline — and his was intact!

Eventually, this nice-looking Black man asked to take me out to dinner that night.  Exhausted by the day, I declined dinner but shared my phone number instead.  

The Comedian

This date will be referred to as “The Comedian” and I’ll share why in a bit.  

He wasted no time connecting with me shortly after the event and asked for a date the very next evening. Although I wouldn’t be available, I liked that he didn’t waste time and seemed enthusiastic about connecting. We agreed to meet a few days later. 

On the day of our date, The Comedian texted me around noon.  With no plan set in stone, I suggested two options: dinner or the Festival da la Salsa at Discovery Green. The Comedian chose the salsa festival and shared that he had taken salsa lessons years ago. Of course, that earned him a few bonus points in my book.  💃🏾

Salsa on the Green

That evening, my date arrived downtown shortly after me and called to sync locations.  I held a parking spot that had opened up behind my car and a few minutes later, he pulled up.  He stepped out of his SUV, smiled, and offered a big embrace. I enjoyed stretching upwards to greet him.

We made our way to the festival entrance and were disappointed to find out that the free tickets I had been given by my dance school, The Houston Dance Center, had expired at 3 p.m.  The woman at the ticket counter insisted we pay for entry.  I was aggravated because the event would be closing in two hours – she could have just taken the tickets. 🙄However The Comedian covered our entry and we made our way into the event.  

My first order of business was to find the festival’s food vendors.  What can I say, I like to eat. 🤷🏾‍♀️I’m also half Puerto Rican and have been trying to find Puerto Rican food since arriving in Houston.  The thought of arroz con gandules, arepas, empanadas, and platanos made my mouth water. 

We walked all around the festival only to find that nearly all the food vendors had closed.  Although there were live dance performances taking place on stage, along with live bands and hundreds of people dancing and lounging on the event lawn, I was no good without food in my belly.  

The Comedian was attentive.  Prioritizing my comfort and ensuring I was fed, he suggested that we leave the festival, despite having just paid for entry ten minutes prior. But before leaving, we watched a live performance for a few minutes and danced together a bit.  His version of salsa was more of a two-step to the beat, followed by giving me a twirl; however, I gave him an A for effort.  It was cute to see a Black man step out of his comfort zone and have a little fun.  His vibe was silly – almost goofy even.  

As we walked out of the festival, The Comedian stopped at the ticket entrance to speak with the woman who had refused our free entry ticket.  He explained that all the food vendors had packed up, leaving us no options to satisfy our hunger.  Continuing in a light-hearted manner, he asked if she would refund us a portion of our fifteen-dollar ticket since we had only been there for about ten minutes. When the woman refused and told us where to find the food vendors, he insisted that he needed to find food for me.  Another woman at the ticket table entered the discussion and offered to walk us over to the vendors.

Knowing he knew the area well and had just suggested several restaurants to me minutes before, I found his request to the ladies a bit odd.  Although he remained polite and friendly, he gave the impression of being distressed about needing to find somewhere to eat. The two White women became more and more agitated and a bit defensive as he carried on. Just as I jumped in – with an attitude I might add – mentioning how they had “made” us pay for another ticket even though the event was winding down, The Comedian stopped his antics and left the woman alone.  He walked away from the table and turned to me. “I was just fucking with them for giving us a hard time” he laughed.   

That’s how he became The Comedian.

Dinner and a Stroll

Following the bust of a salsa festival, we found our way to dinner.  I had been craving Korean BBQ since my last date with Blasian Bae, so when The Comedian asked what type of food I was in the mood for, I told him what I wanted.  Prioritizing my preference, The Comedian did some research.  We would have Korean BBQ again, but this time the restaurant promised all-you-can-eat. 

As we dined at Gen Korean BBQ House, The Comedian talked about his career, his hometown, and his kid.  He talked about the dating scene in Houston, informing me that the male-to-female ratio favored men. He talked about “females” in the area and I resisted the feminist urge to school him on why referring to women as “females” is problematic.  He talked about Houston.  He talked to the people at the table next to us.  He talked — and talked — and talked.  😬

As he talked, I ate.

Bulgogi. Galbi. Dumplings. Noodles. I was in Asian food heaven.  We ordered two, three, and in some cases, four small servings of our favorite dishes to share.  Shocked by the amount of food I was able to pack in, The Comedian joked about where it had all gone.  I’m not a cutesy woman who restricts myself to salad for dates. If I’m hungry, I’m gonna eat! Best he knows that now.

Not yet ready to call it a night after dinner, The Comedian and I went for a walk in his Museum District neighborhood.  We people-watched the clubgoers standing outside of the infamous Turkey Leg Hut and Bar 5015. We passed through Faces Houston and two-stepped for a bit.  All the while, The Comedian schooled me on my new city – where to visit, where to avoid, and even where to invest. 

I suppose Date #12 in Houston was pleasant enough.  Though a little rough around the edges, The Comedian was friendly and easy to talk to.  Rather than romantic attraction, the vibe I felt was more like that of a friend, but I’m going for a slow burn over intense chemistry, remember? I would leave the door open and see if our friendly affections might eventually give way to attraction and desire. 

So, have you too ever fallen down the internet trap of listening to too many experts? And what did you think of date #12? I want to hear from you in the comments. Don’t forget, you can support this project by tapping the “buy me a coffee” tab. Until next time, be blessed! ~Kaity