A League of Their Own, autumn, Christian dating, dating, Demi Lovato, emotions, Geena Davis, leaves, loneliness, lonely, out of her league, out of his league, out of my league, rejection, Rockford Peaches, single, Stone Cold, Tom Hanks
I recently met a great guy.
And I really like him.
He is so many of the things I’m looking for in a man. He’s passionate about his work, compassionate toward others, and truly committed to God.
It’s been so long since I’ve even met someone with potential. This isn’t a blatant self promotion or a rant on the state of men these days. It’s more a simple reflection on my busy, often secluded life. In my line of work, I just don’t meet many potential suitors. In my limited personal time, I prefer to catch up with family and close friends. So you can imagine my surprise when this guy appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
There’s only one problem with him.
He doesn’t like me back.
And that is, unfortunately, a prerequisite for any sort of spark. So here I sit, alone on a Friday night, listening to Demi Lovato’s “Stone Cold” on repeat and wrestling the battle between my mind and my emotions. I’m trying to figure out how I could do things differently next time so I don’t end up feeling this way. Because if I’m being honest, it feels lousy.
The truth is I sort of knew the idea of me and him is unrealistic. Just by the looks of him, he’s clearly out of my league. But I felt as we talked that we had so much in common. Maybe, just maybe he’d see that, too?
The idea of being in or out of someone’s league really irks some people. When I told my sister and sister-in-law about this guy being out of my league, they immediately shot back with, “Why do you say that? That’s not true!” And I get why they’re defending me.
My comments make me seem like I’m talking down on myself, like I’m not worthy of this man. While I may feel unworthy at times, that’s not the essence of what I mean. I suppose I see leagues as more of a lateral move. His league isn’t necessarily better than mine – just different.
For me to guard my heart well, I need to at least recognize the league I’m in, right? And hope and pray that a man in my own league will cross my path one day soon? A man who happens to be passionate about his work, compassionate toward others, and truly committed to God?
I can’t help but think of Dottie Hinson and the Rockford Peaches, the underdogs in A League of Their Own. Who would have predicted they’d make it all the way to the World Series?
I want to be as fearless as Dottie (and Geena Davis, for that matter). It would have been so much easier for her to just stay in Oregon and play on the same dairy farm team she’d always played for. It took her some time to muster up the courage, but she left. She thought better of herself. She knew she could make it in this other league. And she was right.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to do the same.
What do you guys think? Stay in your league or swing for the fences? I find the former gives me better odds, and the latter sets me up for heartbreak.
But then again, the former is most often boring, and the latter gives me butterflies every time.
Thirty-five years old and still trying to figure all this out. If anyone tells you it gets easier, they’re lying.
Tonight, I feel that little quiver of my chin, the prick of tears on the back of my eyeballs. And I hear Tom Hanks yelling at me.
There’s no crying in baseball!
Tomorrow morning will be better. An early morning hike is my go-to remedy for lifting spirits in times like these. I’ll hit the trail early, take in deep breaths of the cool autumn air, and hold my arms out wide to catch the falling leaves. I’ll appreciate the good things in life. I’ll be hopeful for new things to come.
To this particular man, I can feel no ill will. He really is a decent guy. I suppose that’s why I was so attracted to him in the first place. I wish him only the very best in whichever league he chooses to play.
Sing it, Demi.
Stone cold, baby
God knows I try to feel happy for you
Know that I am, even if I can’t understand
I’ll take the pain, give me the truth
Me and my heart, we’ll make it through