My flatmate asked me out. I rejected him and he moved on, so why do I feel so annoyed?

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Dear Hera,

I live in a large, social flat which I absolutely love. Recently one of my flatmates, Alister, asked me out, and I had to politely say no. Both flattering and awkward – good thing we’re all mature adults and can gracefully move on, pretending it never happened, right? That’s what he seems to be doing, but unfortunately, I’m still struggling with it.

Rationally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong or creepy about having feelings for someone else. Isn’t it beautiful to be human and messy and feel big feelings? Take a chance for love? It takes courage to ask someone out, and as a bit of a wimp, I respect it. But emotionally, I am quite uncomfortable with the situation. I feel really awkward, and I resent that he put me in this position. I want my home to be a space where I can relax and have fun with friends without worrying about unwanted attention. I actually specifically go out of my way to casually drop in group conversations that I don’t date within our house. I’ve done this with Alister there, so I don’t know why he asked me out anyway. Maybe he was zoned out during that chat, or forgot? I think it’s a bit rude to ask out a flatmate and put them in an uncomfortable position in their own home – unless you’re Very Sure they’re into it. Is that an overly conservative belief of mine?

I’m feeling sensitive about it because I have been asked out by a flatmate before, Lucas. Lucas seemed to handle the rejection well at first, but over time became more and more aggressive and disrespectful towards me. I didn’t tell any of my flatmates about it for months, to respect his privacy and own social connections in the house. When I finally told someone, we were both shocked – Lucas had done the same thing to her. Our house had to have a big discussion about it, we learned we were actually the second and third flatmates he did it to, and we ended up asking him to move out. It was all very dramatic and left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Alister wasn’t living with us at the time, so presumably isn’t aware of this background.

It’s been about two weeks, and while in the moment I told Alister I wanted to still be able to hang out as friends, I’m catching myself avoiding him. His feelings were hurt recently by not being part of a group activity – we didn’t specifically exclude him, but I noticed he wasn’t involved and didn’t rope him in myself, either. What is the social etiquette here? I’m not a great actor, so it’s tough for me to pretend things are normal. Do I just need to get over myself? How do I get past the awkwardness and move on? Or is some awkwardness and avoidance justified, all part of the risk Alister knew he was taking when he asked me out?

Sincerely,

Rejecting & dejected (she/her)

Dear R & D,

This is one of those instances where I feel I’m answering the wrong letter. In a perfect world I would be responding to Alister, asking whether it was fine to ask his new flatmate on a date, to which I would have replied, “Absolutely not, are you crazy???” 

I have a lot of sympathy for young people trying to find love. Before Tinder, if you wanted to get laid you had to be brave enough to volunteer yourself for a face-to-face rejection. But dating apps have obliterated the old way of life. A combination of environmental degradation and scarcity of resources means the wolves are now circling the town belt and haunting the municipal skips.

I don’t mean that men are wolves and women are garbage. Just that the dating situation has evolved, and people are doing their best to adapt. In general I don’t think hard and fast rules about dating etiquette are useful. While I agree it’s usually a terrible idea to ask a coworker on a date, it’s coming from a place of rank hypocrisy, because I’ve dated coworkers and it turned out fine. Any rule can be broken, if the mutual vibes are powerful enough. 

If asking out a coworker is like crossing an antique rope bridge over a thousand-foot chasm, asking out a flatmate is like crossing an antique rope bridge over a thousand-foot chasm in a burning petrol tanker with no brakes. I’m 100% with you on this one. Unless you’re really, really, really, really sure that your flatmate strongly reciprocates your feelings, you should move out before shooting your shot, otherwise you can hardly blame anyone when the rope bridge catches on fire, plunging you into the abyss. 

Even if you are sure the other person reciprocates your feelings, I would still suggest moving out, if only because most people don’t want to start a romantic relationship with cohabitation. You should be worrying about what to wear on a date, not whose turn it is to exterminate the ants in the panty. It puts a lot of pressure on a young couple, and only the pros (lesbians) are equipped to handle it. But just because it’s a bad idea, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. People hook up with their flatmates all the time, and presumably, learn their lesson the hard way. 

But there’s no point telling Alistair it’s not a good idea to swallow a fistful of batteries. The batteries have been swallowed. He asked you out, and now you have to live with the consequences. So what can you do? 

As far as I can see, you have three options. You can ask Alister to move out. You can move out. Or you can hope the situation improves with time. 

I don’t think there is any right course of action here. I think you’ve got to do what makes the most emotional sense to you. If you have a close relationship with your other flatmates and have dealt with a similar situation before, you could see if they’re amenable to asking him to leave. In my experience, people will be reluctant to do this, because people hate stirring up trouble in a big social flat, unless a situation is directly inconveniencing them. But then again, because you’ve already dealt with this exact issue, they might be more sympathetic. Kicking someone out of a shared flat, especially if you’re all friends, can be extremely fraught, and there’s always the chance he’ll refuse to leave, in which case your living situation could become exponentially more awkward. But it might be the best way forward, if you truly can’t stomach seeing him on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. 

Alternatively, you could move out. But I hate this option, because it only punishes you for his lack of critical-thinking skills, and that’s not fair. Not worth considering, unless it’s your last resort. 

The last option is the most practical. You could give the situation a little more space, and hope it becomes less awkward with time. You might find that the situation improves once the dust has settled. 

But I don’t really think you’re asking what to do here. You’re asking whether your feelings of anger are justified. 

Here’s what I think. Your reaction to this situation is about more than this one situation. The fact this has happened to you twice now means this is becoming an unpleasant pattern. I think that your rage and stress is coming from the growing realisation that being a young woman in the world comes with a lot of  shitty baggage. Obviously if you’ve grown up as a woman this isn’t breaking news. But I think the situation is making you so upset because it’s not only hitting you on an interpersonal level and making your day-to-day existence more tedious, but is illustrating a bigger pattern which you are unwillingly beholden to. It’s exhausting and depressing to be constantly subject to unwanted male attention, especially in your own home, when you just want to brush your teeth in peace. 

This is a hard thing to explain to men, who often have the opposite problem. Yes, it can be flattering to be asked out, but if you’re constantly fielding off unwanted advances, it can also be dehumanising. It’s hard to convey how lonely it feels to be viewed as a natural resource instead of a person. Complaining about it only makes you seem like a spoiled braggart. To make matters worse, women are also expected to take on the emotional clean-up. Not only do you have to reject someone, you’re expected to reject them politely, and then smooth things over, be the bigger person, forgive and forget. 

I’m not saying men have it easy. Young men have their own unique and equally hard-to-articulate problems. But your problem isn’t about how men feel. Your problem is how to navigate the awkward situation you find yourself in. 

It sounds to me like you don’t really want to kick this guy out. You’re just not sure what to do with all your anger. I’m not suggesting you should take it out on Alistair, who made a dumb mistake and is probably completely oblivious to the awkward position he put you in (even though his obliviousness is precisely the problem.)

My advice is to throw noble ideas about “privacy” to the wind, and have a good rant to your friends and the other girls in your house. This rage isn’t something you can solve on an interpersonal level. Even if Alistair moves out and moves on, you haven’t fixed the wider problem, which is how to be a young woman in the world without completely losing your shit. My best advice would be not to suffer the indignity alone, and find some catharsis in having a raging socio-political gossip session. 

In terms of your living situation, give yourself a few weeks before making any big decisions. If he truly respects your answer and never mentions it again, it might be possible to move past it, although if he makes another fuss about being left out, you’re well within your rights to tell him you feel extremely awkward about the situation and need a little breathing space. If he can’t respect that, evict his ass! 

I have to admit, there’s not a lot of good actionable advice in this letter. The situation is too nuanced for me to feel confident suggesting any decisive course of action. But I wanted to reply and say that whatever you decide, you’re not wrong to feel annoyed. It is annoying, and it is unfair. I think allowing yourself the freedom to be pissed off is probably going to make you feel better than trying valiantly to be charitable and high-minded, while the situation is still fresh. Let yourself be a little mad. Don’t suffer in silence – tell your flatmates what’s going on so they can support you if the situation devolves. And next time you take on a new flatmate, lay down the ground rules and make them sign a romantic liability waiver.