False intimacy is when a guy pays me a lot of attention just based on my online profile with two pictures and an Instagram feed. False intimacy is when a guy claims to like me yet all he does is talk about himself. False intimacy is when a guy wants to see me again yet doesn’t know the most basic things about me.

False intimacy is when I go after someone for reasons that have nothing to do with them as a person. False intimacy is when I tell someone I like them but really I just feel extremely shit about myself. False intimacy is when I can’t let go of someone merely because of my low self-esteem and past hung-ups. False intimacy is when I try to meet up with someone but can’t list one genuine reason that isn’t ego-driven.

False intimacy is when I act on my sexual desires too quickly, when my interest in someone increases subconsciously because of the fancy restaurant, the delicious meal, the spacious apartment, the branded clothes, the big job title, yet I might not even enjoy having a simple coffee with them.

I’m tired of this fakery routine of modern dating. I’m tired of my own conditioned superficiality, of the social dance pre-first date, of being objectified, not necessarily sexually, but also as a prize to the male ego only because I have boobs and a vagina.

I’m tired of the pressure of being a mental challenge, that as a woman I ought to be pursued, of following an unwritten script of how a date should go, of how a girl should act, and hating myself for failing it now and then. I’m tired of fake men, men who pull moves on me, men who can’t be honest, men who make me think “Why men love bitches” is such an eye-opening book.

I’m tired of mind games — Oh, I understand them. The only problem is that they work on the wrong men and they sustain the wrong situations. At least not the type of men I would respect and adore anyway. Not the type of relationships that I would want to be in.

To be fair, it’s probably largely down to my choices from the get-go — I can’t just blame the world. My negative experience is nothing but a true reflection of my own emotional unavailability and unbalanced inner state. I chose men who had little in common with me, whom I subconsciously objectified and didn’t necessarily vibe with on fundamental levels.

I chose to hold onto the souls that were equally lost and closed off, the hearts that were equally clogged, the minds that weren’t curious enough to see through my facades and call me out on my incredibly complex bullshit that I was scared shitless to face. I chose to be in situations that didn’t require me to be real and vulnerable, to open up, to be seen for who I really am.

And that’s how I cheated myself out of real connections and relationships, how I escaped myself, how I used false intimacy to bury my own past hurt, how I subjected myself repeatedly to the familiar series of shitty feelings and dynamics deep-rooted from childhood. I was full of fear — Sometimes I didn’t even know fear of what, and why.

But I’m not that girl I used to be anymore. I’m not faking it anymore. I want to be real and I want something real on my level. I want to treat myself well and do myself good. I don’t just want a functional relationship. I want a strong connection that’s based on authenticity, vulnerability, and genuineness. I want to like a man for who he really is.

I want my liking to have weight because it’s based on real value. I want to be able to take pleasure from just having a coffee with someone — no dinner, no drinks, no credit card needed. I want to be fully me — free and crazy and wild and daring. I miss that girl dearly, the girl who doesn’t care about making the right moves, who is visibly sincere, who doesn’t have to guard herself up all the time, who doesn’t project so much bullshit on others, who doesn’t buy that same bullshit from others and especially herself.

I want something that lasts. I want long conversations and feeling close and being soulfully naked. I want to be patient enough to slowly unwrap the layers around another heart. I want someone who wants me the same way, deeply. I want someone who cares about these words, who’s naturally enticed by this content. And if I get hurt, I want to be hurt for real.

So today I say goodbye to false intimacy. No more pretending to be someone I’m not and don’t even like anymore, acting in a way that I think someone would fancy but is not authentically me. No more forcing relationships to meet preset expectations out of anxiety.

No more being conditioned into wanting something I don’t actually care that much about, seeking external validations on the self whose every fiber is already fully valid. Today I say hello to being comfortable in my own skin, to valuing my own opinions, to trusting my judgment, to being firm on my own feet, to being large and taking up space, to affirming my own value, to showing up, to being seen and seeing others.

And with that, I’m done with living in fantasies and illusions, having my self-esteem tied to millions of things outside of my control, participating in the modern dating culture that has little room for authentic expressions. I’m daring to be me. I’m ready for real intimacy. Come at me, life.