Being the Last Resort

In my time in the dating scene, I’ve noted something far more damaging than most people probably realise. As a disabled, queer, plus-size person – I’ve got many things against me regarding dating.

man and woman holding hands while walking at park

But when I get a match, especially with a cisgender man, I’m always waiting for the moment when they inadvertently tell me that I am not just one option but their last resort

Dating is difficult, especially if you’re regularly putting all of your energy into one person, which is why so many of us talk to multiple people at a time while trying to date. That, in and of itself, is not the issue. 

The issue is when you’re immediately ranked and reminded that you’re in last place, without any chance, and you’re only there to make them feel better.

I’ve had people decide to put all their energy into talking to me – not because they want to, but because they saw me as easily obtainable compared to others… There’s also the idea that they’re afraid of rejection, so they talk to me because it won’t hurt their ego as much if it happens… After all, I’m just a “fat pig that can’t keep her legs closed“.

black woman messaging on modern cellphone

Dating as me comes with the reminder that I’m the person people settle for.
I’m the safe choice.
The backup plan.
The last resort. 

I’m the one that makes you look better, more attractive and more desirable, in comparison. 
I’m the one you date, so people think you’re nice – because you must only be with me out of pity.

To so many, I’m replaceable.

I step out of line, or something happens that is entirely out of my control, and they can go find someone else – who is almost guaranteed to be better than me. 
I get ill? They’ll find someone to have fun with.
I talk back? They’ll find a better submissive.

The worst part about it all, is that I believe them.

I believe I’m replaceable; I believe I am the safe choice so they don’t get hurt; and I believe that I am the last resort…
That’s what dating has taught me. 

Now, I can no longer see my face clearly; I hate my body; I hate my personality; and I don’t believe anyone can truly love me.

man in face mask kissing hand

I’m not asking to be someone’s only option – far from it. 
I’m polyamorous – I want my partners to have everything they could ever want or need from their partner(s).

I want to be chosen.
I want someone to want me, not view me as a consolation prize.
I want someone to choose me because they like me, not because they can’t have someone else. 

Maybe it’s too much to ask for – to have someone choose me to love – but it’s my only requirement, and I will stand by it. 

Available to read online for free and downloadable for 99p.
Available from Theodora’s Emporium and Amazon.
Available to read online for free and downloadable for 99p.
Available from Theodora’s Emporium and Amazon.


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