The Angel's Loft

Quiet on the First Date.... aka: "Surrender Dating"

I talk a lot. And when I’m nervous, I talk even more. Years ago, a friend suggested to me that maybe—just maybe—I would be better off being quiet when I went out on a first date. If I was quiet, she suggested, that would give me a chance to see what I thought of the guy. I could gather information that would help me decide if I wanted to go out with him again instead of focusing on what I would say next. But I worried what a man would think of me if I didn’t have something brilliant to say. I worried he would find me boring or even worse—stupid.

On the other hand, I had experienced that “oh-why-did-I-say-that!” remorse more than once. And I recognized that chattering nervously to fill up every pause in the conversation made me look neither fascinating nor smart.

So the next time I went on a date, I made a conscious effort to be quiet–even though I was nervous. Something amazing happened: Instead of having the usual out-of-body experience where I would float over the room during a date, I stayed grounded. Being quiet let me concentrate on how I felt and what I wanted. I could also pay attention to what my date was saying.

It turned out, he was trying to entertain me. He joked about how glad he was that someone had invented contact lenses so he didn’t have to wear his glasses, which looked like two Hubble telescopes welded together. He also mentioned that he sometimes entertained himself by viewing the world without correcting his lousy vision. “You can see all kinds of amazing things that way,” he told me wryly. “Like the devil.”

Instead of trying to top him with a joke of my own, I just laughed and enjoyed his self-deprecating sense of humor. I relaxed more knowing that he was willing to make jokes at his own expense to amuse me. I was grateful. He seemed pleased that I was enjoying myself. Suddenly, I realized there was another benefit to staying quiet: It made me a good listener, which made me a good conversationalist. Without knowing what I was doing, I had surrendered control of the conversation, and I was better off for it. For the first time since I started dating, I was aware of how I felt with my date. I was noticing what kind of person he was instead of thinking of what I would say next. I was even making mental notes to myself like, “nice eyes” and “seems bright.”

Looking back, I realize that chattering constantly was my way of staying in control. I thought I could save myself from suffering the awkwardness of a long silence if I filled them all. Far from impressing my dates, I had been driving them off in droves. I told myself that these men couldn’t handle a strong, smart, opinionated woman. In reality, they probably didn’t enjoy the company of a woman who never stopped talking.

As it turns out, I dated that guy with the great sense of humor and the contact lenses more. Much later we talked about that first date he told me that he enjoyed himself because he could see I was having a good time. “You seemed happy,” he told me, “and I figured I was partly responsible for that.” When I was sitting there smiling at him without saying much, he thought to himself, She thinks I’m cool. Apparently, he didn’t mind my quietness at all. He knew I accepted him, and that meant more to him than if I had been the most impressive conversationalist who ever lived.