NEAL
We met nearly two years ago, at a party. I was freshly single and very confused. He was patient. We met for drinks a few times, and took a group to dinner once including his kids. We had some great chats and plenty in common with plenty of differences to. We were headed into some very different territory from one another, so we drifted apart. I certainly didn’t view him as boyfriend material, but he kept tabs on me from time to time. And would always praise and compliment me heavily, but sincerely. Whenever I was at a loose end he would express that he wished he didn’t already have a date or other plans. “don’t break a date for me” I would laugh.
As I flung myself fully into the dating world, I decided to experience lots of first dates. “Dating sucks, so obviously I need to get better at it.” Was my train of thought. I lined up four dates in a single week and thought I would give Neal a chance too. It was just dinner, and we were already sort of friends. We had a great time, communicated well, and felt very naturally, comfortable together, just like all the other times. I still didn’t think of him as a “date”, until he went to kiss me goodbye. Then something happened. Something changed. There was a spark of electricity that sort of wrapped around us both, and we seemed stuck together. It took me completely by surprise.
Now I see him completely differently. He is adorable, and rather handsome, and most importantly he smells good to me, when I can get him to abandon the aftershave. I am in awe. It seems that I have a sweet, hunky, intelligent, loving boyfriend that totally adores me just as I am in all my freaky glory, if I want one. So, Is that what I really want? Is it?
Thursday, April 7, 2011
First Dates
ITALY
This super mc-hottie was once my student. He used to hang around after the night class to chat and try to get me to go out with him. He helped me put oil in my car, and showed me what he was doing with the car he was restoring. He was trouble. I was extremely attracted to him. I would work hard to remain professionally distant, and had to tell him more than once that I could not go out with him since I was faculty and he was a student. He really got under my skin and would flirt with me every week relentlessly. By the fourth week of class I was so aware of him and his advances, and so completely bowled over that I had to skip a night of work and call in a sub. The following quarter I had to turn the class over to someone else, even though it was my favorite segment to teach, because I did not know how to face five more weeks of exposure to him and his incredible magnetism. That was a double edged sword.
Eventually the Italian hottie graduated and looked me up on face book, and asked me out. I had to go, for a mixture of reasons. Would he still excite me? Why did he want to see ME? And he was a former student, a door of support I try to leave open for all of my former prodigys. My mentors changed my life and being there for people I have influenced is very important to me. It turned out to be one of my best dates. He made my mind go blank, my pulse race, and blood tingle in my veins. I knew I would merely be a conquest to him, so I resisted his charm, but it was extremely difficult. I still think he is the most beautiful, hunky, handsome man I have ever seen, and he smells amazing. I mooned over him and the raw, animalistic attraction for weeks with breathless imaginings and wistful “if onlys”.
I wanted him in ways I am only beginning to wake up to, and didn’t hesitate to let him know after the ways he came onto me, eventually I landed him for another night, but he seemed timid and insecure, which I really didn’t expect . When I interact with him, I feel like the mouse in the game of cat and mouse, and everyone knows I much prefer to be the cat. Besides the whole Mrs. Robinson thing just made me feel old and pathetic, instead of beautiful and sexy. Who needs that? I prefer a man that chases me.
RALPH
We were starting to have a good little back and forth , so we traded number thinking texting would be more convenient. But I didn’t expect the diatribe of his life story, or his close calls with rehab. He seemed a bit better looking than the majority of men my age, which has been daunting because evidently I have been aging very well. But his story was sort of the flip side of mine. While I have been divorced twice, his life seemed filled with drama and alcoholism. His e- girlfriend contacted him while we were texting and wanted to get back together. I have to commend him for letting me know, but it seemed highly inappropriate to send me a copy of their communications. We’ve never even met and I was a bit alarmed by his lack of tact! Both in sending me the transmissions, and his tirade to her about her substance abuse. Ralph was cute, available and not too far away, but my own life has plenty of drama, and this sort of thing did more to discourage me, than to inspire confidence in online dating.
BRUCE
He seemed like a dedicated family man, which to my mind seems more interesting to date. More stable emotionally, more dedication than your average playboy in a midlife crises. Although many men I have spoken to have mentioned that being a father was a turn off for many of the women they have dated. I guess the women became competitive with the kids. A sad thing indeed. As a mom I get the importance of kids, and the idea that we only get one chance to make it good for them. When we switched to texting, he seemed less interesting than his profile had suggested, and his deep involvement in a cultural world I had intentionally left behind and walked away from made actual dating seem pretty unlikely. It only took a few texts to determine that we had nothing in common after all, and just talking was becoming a bit of a stretch. I will have to let him down gently.
PALU
Here is a guy that intrigues me. He is well spoken, but laid back. He has a variety of interests and values that are obvious in the way he talks and spends his time. I was most interested by the versatility of his photos. A bit a of a nerdy geek, a bit of a jock, a bit of a food snob, and open to all sorts of activities. Dancing, movies, staying in. I had lunch with him and it was easy to talk to each other. We had a lot in common. To much so. He would make a great friend, or really like my roommate I think. I was genuinely pleased to meet him though.
This super mc-hottie was once my student. He used to hang around after the night class to chat and try to get me to go out with him. He helped me put oil in my car, and showed me what he was doing with the car he was restoring. He was trouble. I was extremely attracted to him. I would work hard to remain professionally distant, and had to tell him more than once that I could not go out with him since I was faculty and he was a student. He really got under my skin and would flirt with me every week relentlessly. By the fourth week of class I was so aware of him and his advances, and so completely bowled over that I had to skip a night of work and call in a sub. The following quarter I had to turn the class over to someone else, even though it was my favorite segment to teach, because I did not know how to face five more weeks of exposure to him and his incredible magnetism. That was a double edged sword.
Eventually the Italian hottie graduated and looked me up on face book, and asked me out. I had to go, for a mixture of reasons. Would he still excite me? Why did he want to see ME? And he was a former student, a door of support I try to leave open for all of my former prodigys. My mentors changed my life and being there for people I have influenced is very important to me. It turned out to be one of my best dates. He made my mind go blank, my pulse race, and blood tingle in my veins. I knew I would merely be a conquest to him, so I resisted his charm, but it was extremely difficult. I still think he is the most beautiful, hunky, handsome man I have ever seen, and he smells amazing. I mooned over him and the raw, animalistic attraction for weeks with breathless imaginings and wistful “if onlys”.
I wanted him in ways I am only beginning to wake up to, and didn’t hesitate to let him know after the ways he came onto me, eventually I landed him for another night, but he seemed timid and insecure, which I really didn’t expect . When I interact with him, I feel like the mouse in the game of cat and mouse, and everyone knows I much prefer to be the cat. Besides the whole Mrs. Robinson thing just made me feel old and pathetic, instead of beautiful and sexy. Who needs that? I prefer a man that chases me.
RALPH
We were starting to have a good little back and forth , so we traded number thinking texting would be more convenient. But I didn’t expect the diatribe of his life story, or his close calls with rehab. He seemed a bit better looking than the majority of men my age, which has been daunting because evidently I have been aging very well. But his story was sort of the flip side of mine. While I have been divorced twice, his life seemed filled with drama and alcoholism. His e- girlfriend contacted him while we were texting and wanted to get back together. I have to commend him for letting me know, but it seemed highly inappropriate to send me a copy of their communications. We’ve never even met and I was a bit alarmed by his lack of tact! Both in sending me the transmissions, and his tirade to her about her substance abuse. Ralph was cute, available and not too far away, but my own life has plenty of drama, and this sort of thing did more to discourage me, than to inspire confidence in online dating.
BRUCE
He seemed like a dedicated family man, which to my mind seems more interesting to date. More stable emotionally, more dedication than your average playboy in a midlife crises. Although many men I have spoken to have mentioned that being a father was a turn off for many of the women they have dated. I guess the women became competitive with the kids. A sad thing indeed. As a mom I get the importance of kids, and the idea that we only get one chance to make it good for them. When we switched to texting, he seemed less interesting than his profile had suggested, and his deep involvement in a cultural world I had intentionally left behind and walked away from made actual dating seem pretty unlikely. It only took a few texts to determine that we had nothing in common after all, and just talking was becoming a bit of a stretch. I will have to let him down gently.
PALU
Here is a guy that intrigues me. He is well spoken, but laid back. He has a variety of interests and values that are obvious in the way he talks and spends his time. I was most interested by the versatility of his photos. A bit a of a nerdy geek, a bit of a jock, a bit of a food snob, and open to all sorts of activities. Dancing, movies, staying in. I had lunch with him and it was easy to talk to each other. We had a lot in common. To much so. He would make a great friend, or really like my roommate I think. I was genuinely pleased to meet him though.
Recent dates
BEN
We met on the internet. His pictures were sporadic and most seemed quite dated and antiquated, but he had a sweetness and originality that was hard to ignore. As a date, he invited me to fly a kite with him. We decided to exchange numbers and converse in text for mutual convenience. We found we had a lot to say to one another. Through circumstance and inconvenience, one thing and then another our first date was delayed by nearly ten days. During that time we texted a lot, and got to know each other fairly well, we exchanged over 1500 texts. We even had a disagreement where we didn’t speak for 36 hours and I erased his number to keep from harassing him. During this long virtual affair and courtship, I explained the science of smell and pheromones to him repeatedly. “It’s all about smell” I would tell him.
“Not your after shave, or deodorant or any of that, but your natural smell.” When he insisted he smelled good, I would have to patiently explain that it wasn’t about good or bad , but about a man smelling RIGHT to a particular woman. He seemed to understand, and when we connected really well we would take turns expressing the sentiment that we both hoped he would smell right to me. By the time we met in person, we had both become fond of our daily chats and contact. We argued and still enjoyed each other’s perspective and take on the world. We were close.
Our date was to take a walk down town, to look at a few fountains, the water front, we snuggled together to stare at the stars, in the Japanese garden at night; and finally busted into a church yard and play like kids on the swings. I had a great time with Ben, and we had walked and talked all over town, but he did not smell right. He lent me a movie and got his roommate to drive us each home. I am fond of him and continue to text him. I value his friendship.
ANDY
Andy was a pen pal for a while. And really makes me laugh. He takes me in hand with a bit of humor and a bit of a lecture. He chides and kids and makes blunt statements. We have not met and are both to busy to do so, but we flirt and chat, and discuss life in both absurd and serious ways. I am fond of him. We live several hours apart and our lifestyles make meeting unlikely, so we exchanged interesting letters several times a week. Andy has promised to help me write a better profile to keep the creeps at bay, while helping me draw in the men I might find more worth my time. Its true I’ve had some real sleazy creeps come on to me, and had actually cancelled my account because of it. But I missed the way I could say totally abstract and absurd things to someone that just seemed to GET it, so I had to create a new account and go back looking for him. I even stated in my profile to “contact me if” and posted his user name. Then I made reference to a particular nonsensical joke we had made up together. It was Andy’s turn to laugh, evidently this was hilarious to him, and we picked up right where we had left off.
FRIRISH
This was my first online dating contact. He was handsome, hard to get, and really adorable sounding. We flirted a bit and I got him to text me. It was clear that he was only interested in casual sex, since he asked to meet me several times, then made references to throwing pennies at my window. When I made references to meeting by daylight and the importance of smell in female attraction, he didn’t seem to know how to respond. He claimed to be sick to get me to come care for him, and I refused. When I suggested he find a way to talk to me about something besides sex, he ceased contact with me. Even with several pictures that I was assured by him and others were very hot, I didn’t hear from him again. Sad. I was taken by the idea of a French Irish man, and scoring myself a very cute and somewhat exotic boyfriend.
We met on the internet. His pictures were sporadic and most seemed quite dated and antiquated, but he had a sweetness and originality that was hard to ignore. As a date, he invited me to fly a kite with him. We decided to exchange numbers and converse in text for mutual convenience. We found we had a lot to say to one another. Through circumstance and inconvenience, one thing and then another our first date was delayed by nearly ten days. During that time we texted a lot, and got to know each other fairly well, we exchanged over 1500 texts. We even had a disagreement where we didn’t speak for 36 hours and I erased his number to keep from harassing him. During this long virtual affair and courtship, I explained the science of smell and pheromones to him repeatedly. “It’s all about smell” I would tell him.
“Not your after shave, or deodorant or any of that, but your natural smell.” When he insisted he smelled good, I would have to patiently explain that it wasn’t about good or bad , but about a man smelling RIGHT to a particular woman. He seemed to understand, and when we connected really well we would take turns expressing the sentiment that we both hoped he would smell right to me. By the time we met in person, we had both become fond of our daily chats and contact. We argued and still enjoyed each other’s perspective and take on the world. We were close.
Our date was to take a walk down town, to look at a few fountains, the water front, we snuggled together to stare at the stars, in the Japanese garden at night; and finally busted into a church yard and play like kids on the swings. I had a great time with Ben, and we had walked and talked all over town, but he did not smell right. He lent me a movie and got his roommate to drive us each home. I am fond of him and continue to text him. I value his friendship.
ANDY
Andy was a pen pal for a while. And really makes me laugh. He takes me in hand with a bit of humor and a bit of a lecture. He chides and kids and makes blunt statements. We have not met and are both to busy to do so, but we flirt and chat, and discuss life in both absurd and serious ways. I am fond of him. We live several hours apart and our lifestyles make meeting unlikely, so we exchanged interesting letters several times a week. Andy has promised to help me write a better profile to keep the creeps at bay, while helping me draw in the men I might find more worth my time. Its true I’ve had some real sleazy creeps come on to me, and had actually cancelled my account because of it. But I missed the way I could say totally abstract and absurd things to someone that just seemed to GET it, so I had to create a new account and go back looking for him. I even stated in my profile to “contact me if” and posted his user name. Then I made reference to a particular nonsensical joke we had made up together. It was Andy’s turn to laugh, evidently this was hilarious to him, and we picked up right where we had left off.
FRIRISH
This was my first online dating contact. He was handsome, hard to get, and really adorable sounding. We flirted a bit and I got him to text me. It was clear that he was only interested in casual sex, since he asked to meet me several times, then made references to throwing pennies at my window. When I made references to meeting by daylight and the importance of smell in female attraction, he didn’t seem to know how to respond. He claimed to be sick to get me to come care for him, and I refused. When I suggested he find a way to talk to me about something besides sex, he ceased contact with me. Even with several pictures that I was assured by him and others were very hot, I didn’t hear from him again. Sad. I was taken by the idea of a French Irish man, and scoring myself a very cute and somewhat exotic boyfriend.
Why dating sucks
WHY DATING SUCKS
It awfully nice to feel the adrenaline and rush of attraction when meeting someone we find very attractive. And If they are attracted too, well that is hard to resist. We all want to feel valued, desired and seen by someone we find hard to ignore. And so we date. A huge mistake but one we make again and again. We want to believe in the antiquated notion of romance and true love. But we are wrong.
We suffer through the awkward silences, the judgment’s and assumptions. The fear of rejection or of being shot down. We are embarrassed at how we seem to trip over our words when we feel a rush of heat. But I ask you is it worth it? Some people seem really good at dating, or surviving a date, almost as if they helped write the invisible book of rules. Rules some of us may never have quite understood.
But what is the point? Most would undoubtedly argue that the point of dating is to find someone interested in the same kind of relationship we ourselves desire with another. That is a pretty tall order. Some people want mere sexual gratification and validation. Some want a live in lover with whom they do absolutely everything 24/7. Most want something on the very vast, and wide spectrum in between. But add to this, that we also want someone with the same values, interests and basic belief system as ourselves and we’ve narrowed the field considerably.
With our collective sense of a “made to order society” we have stopped accepting ourselves and one another for the human family we are. We seem to expect some sort of perfect mate or partner on demand, like cable tv. As if this were reasonable or even realistic. Meanwhile we ourselves righteously expect with the indignation of a consumer that it is the other that must fit to our standards and requirements, while we are ever more unwilling to bend our inclusiveness or tolerance to accept or even endure human fallibility and foibles. Do we want an equal partner or do we want a servant or android that will be exactly as we choose in every way. We are trying to play god with each other instead of working on ourselves. Is it any wonder we are vastly and repeatedly disappointed?
We hurdle the landmines of communication, articulation and interests. We try hard not to, but still manage to drag at least some baggage forward from the past like tiny bombs with hidden triggers. No matter how much work we’ve done on ourselves, we all have scars, but with a lot of dedication, discipline and responsibility we can at least learn not to blame our current partners for the wounds of the past, and keep it to our therapists office instead. Not that most people bother with that, but it’s very helpful. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get back to the date.
On the date, the two persons whom we will refer to as male and female strictly for the sake of differentiating the characters, not inferring any particular set of gender roles, values or projections onto what any well educated person knows is a much more complex subject and circumstance.
Let us say the man may feel the date isn’t going particularly well, but senses he may be able to get some physical pleasure if he stays with it. After all, he has already invested his time, and money and interest this far, and the mutual physical attraction is obvious. He may feel that being invested thus far, he might as well see if he can get anything out of it, so he does not disclose his true feelings as they arise.
To him this may seem fair, logical and justified, whereas the woman might consider this selfish, and arrogant lack of disclosure to be predatory and opportunistic. Especially if she keeps setting boundaries to let him know she is looking for something more and he does not back down and end the date or specifically address her concerns. Worse, he may acknowledge her concerns without stating his thoughts, true feelings or stance up front. This might leave her feeling confused and uncertain of how things stand the next day or after the date ends. She expects a call or another date to develop a deeper level of trust and intimacy, and he doesn’t want to “waste” his time on her again.
It is a familiar scenario to many, and one that could have been entirely avoided if the communication, expectations and intentions had been made half as clear as the desire and attraction was. This does not seem likely while these two parties view the subject from such different self-serving positions. But what choice have they? Now let’s change the circumstances a bit. Suppose she thinks the date is awful and is searching to find a way to end it, while he is fascinated , intrigued and visualizing a family with her, completely missing her polite cues that it really isn’t working out well, and she is trying to wrap it up. He drones on and on about his earwig collection failing to notice she is not really playing the role he has assigned her.
In both cases, at the risk of sounding sexist, I blame the man in this scenario. In both cases this character is self-absorbed and ignoring the feeling, and cues given by the female character. In both cases, it is up to her to guess what is happening, and to be self-sufficient, self-resilient, and very self-protective, demanding direct answers or actions, and taking control of herself and the larger situation. In both cases neither person ends up getting what they want. But it isn’t always like this. Sometimes there is clear communication, and clear expectations and a second , third, and fourth date ensues. Certainly for that to happen, both parties either have to understand all the rules and nuances of the game, or communicate a level of blunt honesty that surpasses these fairly typical scenarios.
It awfully nice to feel the adrenaline and rush of attraction when meeting someone we find very attractive. And If they are attracted too, well that is hard to resist. We all want to feel valued, desired and seen by someone we find hard to ignore. And so we date. A huge mistake but one we make again and again. We want to believe in the antiquated notion of romance and true love. But we are wrong.
We suffer through the awkward silences, the judgment’s and assumptions. The fear of rejection or of being shot down. We are embarrassed at how we seem to trip over our words when we feel a rush of heat. But I ask you is it worth it? Some people seem really good at dating, or surviving a date, almost as if they helped write the invisible book of rules. Rules some of us may never have quite understood.
But what is the point? Most would undoubtedly argue that the point of dating is to find someone interested in the same kind of relationship we ourselves desire with another. That is a pretty tall order. Some people want mere sexual gratification and validation. Some want a live in lover with whom they do absolutely everything 24/7. Most want something on the very vast, and wide spectrum in between. But add to this, that we also want someone with the same values, interests and basic belief system as ourselves and we’ve narrowed the field considerably.
With our collective sense of a “made to order society” we have stopped accepting ourselves and one another for the human family we are. We seem to expect some sort of perfect mate or partner on demand, like cable tv. As if this were reasonable or even realistic. Meanwhile we ourselves righteously expect with the indignation of a consumer that it is the other that must fit to our standards and requirements, while we are ever more unwilling to bend our inclusiveness or tolerance to accept or even endure human fallibility and foibles. Do we want an equal partner or do we want a servant or android that will be exactly as we choose in every way. We are trying to play god with each other instead of working on ourselves. Is it any wonder we are vastly and repeatedly disappointed?
We hurdle the landmines of communication, articulation and interests. We try hard not to, but still manage to drag at least some baggage forward from the past like tiny bombs with hidden triggers. No matter how much work we’ve done on ourselves, we all have scars, but with a lot of dedication, discipline and responsibility we can at least learn not to blame our current partners for the wounds of the past, and keep it to our therapists office instead. Not that most people bother with that, but it’s very helpful. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get back to the date.
On the date, the two persons whom we will refer to as male and female strictly for the sake of differentiating the characters, not inferring any particular set of gender roles, values or projections onto what any well educated person knows is a much more complex subject and circumstance.
Let us say the man may feel the date isn’t going particularly well, but senses he may be able to get some physical pleasure if he stays with it. After all, he has already invested his time, and money and interest this far, and the mutual physical attraction is obvious. He may feel that being invested thus far, he might as well see if he can get anything out of it, so he does not disclose his true feelings as they arise.
To him this may seem fair, logical and justified, whereas the woman might consider this selfish, and arrogant lack of disclosure to be predatory and opportunistic. Especially if she keeps setting boundaries to let him know she is looking for something more and he does not back down and end the date or specifically address her concerns. Worse, he may acknowledge her concerns without stating his thoughts, true feelings or stance up front. This might leave her feeling confused and uncertain of how things stand the next day or after the date ends. She expects a call or another date to develop a deeper level of trust and intimacy, and he doesn’t want to “waste” his time on her again.
It is a familiar scenario to many, and one that could have been entirely avoided if the communication, expectations and intentions had been made half as clear as the desire and attraction was. This does not seem likely while these two parties view the subject from such different self-serving positions. But what choice have they? Now let’s change the circumstances a bit. Suppose she thinks the date is awful and is searching to find a way to end it, while he is fascinated , intrigued and visualizing a family with her, completely missing her polite cues that it really isn’t working out well, and she is trying to wrap it up. He drones on and on about his earwig collection failing to notice she is not really playing the role he has assigned her.
In both cases, at the risk of sounding sexist, I blame the man in this scenario. In both cases this character is self-absorbed and ignoring the feeling, and cues given by the female character. In both cases, it is up to her to guess what is happening, and to be self-sufficient, self-resilient, and very self-protective, demanding direct answers or actions, and taking control of herself and the larger situation. In both cases neither person ends up getting what they want. But it isn’t always like this. Sometimes there is clear communication, and clear expectations and a second , third, and fourth date ensues. Certainly for that to happen, both parties either have to understand all the rules and nuances of the game, or communicate a level of blunt honesty that surpasses these fairly typical scenarios.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Burning Bridges & Consolation Prizes
Jan. 21, 2011
I should have seen it coming. I did see it coming. It was a great big, “turn back” sign, a huge warning to “Beware”. But like the fool and his folly I skipped happily onward, lured by the promise of the magical red shoes, the hope for something I’ve never seen on earth and keep dreaming of. At my age I should know better. When a man says all the right things and pushes your resistance, its only continued resistance he ever really wants, not surrender. When he changes his tune and starts doing things “for” you, instead of WITH you, it’s the beginning of the end. Silly me, I thought it was just a different love language. I’ve been sheltered. But I should have known. I have seen it plenty of times. So instead of quality time, we get excuses and projects and errands, and gifts of service instead of what we are really hungry for: A hand to hold, a heart to hear, a laugh to share and eyes to look back at us.
Relationships are difficult under the best of circumstances, but for some of us they seem impossible. I am to forgiving. To quick to give the other person the benefit of the doubt, and to try to trust that they still care while they are busy back peddling. I am to kind, to concerned and too iconic. I don’t mean to sound vain, or self important, but it’s true. I am very pretty to look at, and men fantasize about who I am and what I am like, but its flat, and two dimensional, and prevents them from ever seeing ME at all.
They scrutinize and pursue me. I try to warn them that I am high maintenance; a Real, flesh and blood woman full of intense emotion and passion, and loneliness and my own life and goals and dreams, but they stare at my lips, or breasts or thighs and don’t really listen to my words. All they see is the one side, and it fuels their desire. I am creative, spontaneous, independent, beautiful, affectionate caring and compassionate. They work and work to convince me of their sincerity, until at last I let go and surrender, and try to get to know them, and let them see me in return. And then the fantasy is dissolved.
All of a sudden it is all too obvious that I am like almost any other woman, with the full range of moods and needs including the negative ones: moody, clingy, sarcastic, insecure, unreasonable, and jealous, with PMS and a bit more baggage then most. Baggage is a byproduct of being too pretty, too young in a soulless society of superficial values, and youth worshiping pedophiles. Most overtly pretty women have this problem, ignored and mistrusted by men and women alike we float on the edge of uncertainty, longing for deeper connection and being increasingly unable to trust ourselves and those who attempt to reach out to us. Sooner or later we are abandoned and deserted most of the times we try for it. It only adds to the negative baggage we carry. How do we change it except to settle for less then we deserve or give up on romance altogether? Even then there is no guarantee. I am twice divorced with very little dating experience, and none of it positive. So I am lonely, and unwilling to date again.
A roommate once asked me why all the really gorgeous women he dated always seemed to be so messed up. This is why. We either become cynical, un-trusting bitches, or we try to keep trusting and believing in people and get screwed over again and again, until we are nothing but a huge, hopeless, helpless bundle of defense mechanisms. It’s YOUR fault. Which do you prefer? The bitch or the waif? The baggage or the ice queen? Chances are you’re going to get a combination of both. I dare you to rise to it, to fight your own dragons and not hide your head in the sand when you meet ours. To be patient and constant and sincere all the way to the bone. The reward will more then be worth the gamble, but you have to mean it, all the way, no turning back, not just WANT to mean it, then flip channels.
I have a lot of consolation prizes, from my relationship disasters. You know, when they were doing things FOR me, and avoiding being present WITH me. Like pretty clothes and new shoes, like rebuilt computers, an education and a new career or two. There were a few material things that have come and gone. But the price I paid in trust, faith, and self esteem isn’t really worth it. I have lost some of my best and most valued friendships, and the ability to trust even those closest to me. I feel isolated and trapped in a superficial level of relating that seems without end or purpose. Life as a dried up, bitter old cynic seems rather pointless.
I am blessed to have made unexpected friends with Ex’s and their new lovers, But I am more cynical then ever and feel that IF this is the type of relationships I am doomed to have, why not make the best of it? Why not enjoy it knowing what it is from the very start? Why not seek out sugar-daddies who can give me material comforts for longer lasting consolation prizes? Maybe diamonds are a girls best friend. A trust fund is nothing to sneeze at, and having an attentive companion while touring the world is not a bad way to see it, even if they never see the real me. Maybe lots of lovers are the very spice of life. Sure to some it may sound kind of slutty, but honestly, I challenge you to walk five years in my shoes. At least with an arrangement like that, things would be very clear cut, and well defined from the beginning, and less hard feelings when all is said and done. So long, Next!
I should have seen it coming. I did see it coming. It was a great big, “turn back” sign, a huge warning to “Beware”. But like the fool and his folly I skipped happily onward, lured by the promise of the magical red shoes, the hope for something I’ve never seen on earth and keep dreaming of. At my age I should know better. When a man says all the right things and pushes your resistance, its only continued resistance he ever really wants, not surrender. When he changes his tune and starts doing things “for” you, instead of WITH you, it’s the beginning of the end. Silly me, I thought it was just a different love language. I’ve been sheltered. But I should have known. I have seen it plenty of times. So instead of quality time, we get excuses and projects and errands, and gifts of service instead of what we are really hungry for: A hand to hold, a heart to hear, a laugh to share and eyes to look back at us.
Relationships are difficult under the best of circumstances, but for some of us they seem impossible. I am to forgiving. To quick to give the other person the benefit of the doubt, and to try to trust that they still care while they are busy back peddling. I am to kind, to concerned and too iconic. I don’t mean to sound vain, or self important, but it’s true. I am very pretty to look at, and men fantasize about who I am and what I am like, but its flat, and two dimensional, and prevents them from ever seeing ME at all.
They scrutinize and pursue me. I try to warn them that I am high maintenance; a Real, flesh and blood woman full of intense emotion and passion, and loneliness and my own life and goals and dreams, but they stare at my lips, or breasts or thighs and don’t really listen to my words. All they see is the one side, and it fuels their desire. I am creative, spontaneous, independent, beautiful, affectionate caring and compassionate. They work and work to convince me of their sincerity, until at last I let go and surrender, and try to get to know them, and let them see me in return. And then the fantasy is dissolved.
All of a sudden it is all too obvious that I am like almost any other woman, with the full range of moods and needs including the negative ones: moody, clingy, sarcastic, insecure, unreasonable, and jealous, with PMS and a bit more baggage then most. Baggage is a byproduct of being too pretty, too young in a soulless society of superficial values, and youth worshiping pedophiles. Most overtly pretty women have this problem, ignored and mistrusted by men and women alike we float on the edge of uncertainty, longing for deeper connection and being increasingly unable to trust ourselves and those who attempt to reach out to us. Sooner or later we are abandoned and deserted most of the times we try for it. It only adds to the negative baggage we carry. How do we change it except to settle for less then we deserve or give up on romance altogether? Even then there is no guarantee. I am twice divorced with very little dating experience, and none of it positive. So I am lonely, and unwilling to date again.
A roommate once asked me why all the really gorgeous women he dated always seemed to be so messed up. This is why. We either become cynical, un-trusting bitches, or we try to keep trusting and believing in people and get screwed over again and again, until we are nothing but a huge, hopeless, helpless bundle of defense mechanisms. It’s YOUR fault. Which do you prefer? The bitch or the waif? The baggage or the ice queen? Chances are you’re going to get a combination of both. I dare you to rise to it, to fight your own dragons and not hide your head in the sand when you meet ours. To be patient and constant and sincere all the way to the bone. The reward will more then be worth the gamble, but you have to mean it, all the way, no turning back, not just WANT to mean it, then flip channels.
I have a lot of consolation prizes, from my relationship disasters. You know, when they were doing things FOR me, and avoiding being present WITH me. Like pretty clothes and new shoes, like rebuilt computers, an education and a new career or two. There were a few material things that have come and gone. But the price I paid in trust, faith, and self esteem isn’t really worth it. I have lost some of my best and most valued friendships, and the ability to trust even those closest to me. I feel isolated and trapped in a superficial level of relating that seems without end or purpose. Life as a dried up, bitter old cynic seems rather pointless.
I am blessed to have made unexpected friends with Ex’s and their new lovers, But I am more cynical then ever and feel that IF this is the type of relationships I am doomed to have, why not make the best of it? Why not enjoy it knowing what it is from the very start? Why not seek out sugar-daddies who can give me material comforts for longer lasting consolation prizes? Maybe diamonds are a girls best friend. A trust fund is nothing to sneeze at, and having an attentive companion while touring the world is not a bad way to see it, even if they never see the real me. Maybe lots of lovers are the very spice of life. Sure to some it may sound kind of slutty, but honestly, I challenge you to walk five years in my shoes. At least with an arrangement like that, things would be very clear cut, and well defined from the beginning, and less hard feelings when all is said and done. So long, Next!
Losing at Love
I don’t know what it is. Maybe I am a doormat. I am certainly pretty, strong, generous, kind, capable, a great cook, sassy, passionate, funny, smart, loving, kind, and tolerant of all kinds of people very different than myself. Sure, I am also, fickle, pissy, picky, cynical, sometimes bitter, whiny and too willing to trust people at their word. I give my heart away at the drop a hat (not my body, but certainly my heart). I am compassionate, and I secretly love people with strong personalities right or wrong. They’re like brightly lit archetypes. And I am a moth.
I have been trying to figure out what that is about, always losing at love. There is one man who rocks my socks and my world so totally, so completely, that I am a shapeless ball of uninteresting wax whenever I am near him. Neither one of my husband’s ever did this, although one came pretty close. I have loved and adored this particular man my entire adult life. I reconnected with him this past year and he made overtures of love at me that sent me reeling through time and space, and molecules. Since we are both grown-ups now, and have known each other forever, I chose to really believe him. Not just because the butterflies in my stomach and the rose garden told me too. Big mistake. Sort of…
I’ve spent two decades avoiding contact with him, and loving a memory because he is a confirmed bachelor. -Even before his own bad marriage. It’s crazy. I am crazy. I lose my balance so easily when he puts his hand in the small of my back, breathes on my neck, or even just smiles with his eyes and says something as simple as “hello”. If he makes contact with my skin I turn to liquid mercury, and melt into the carpet fibers to get lost amongst the pet dander. It can take me days to clear my head. What a boring conversationalist. I am no challenge at all. No wonder he loses interest. I probably would too.
I don’t NEED him. In fact a relationship with him would likely be the first ADULT one I’ve ever had. Believe me I have tried to resist his charm, and gorgeous smile. His playful banter while he spent 6 weeks trying to convince me how very compatible we are and right for each other. The light in his eyes and the way he reached for me when I talked about the space time continuum. I did resist. Really. I even tried to argue but didn’t have anything solid to stand on to prove my point. I could play hard to get, but I detest games, and I’ve wanted him a long, long time. Seeing him show some interest drove that home hard. Life is messy. This whole thing is so very bittersweet.
I have married men as different from this one as I could find, that still attracted me, and it’s made a huge mess of my life. Yes, I got a beautiful and amazing daughter, the first time I ran from his rejection. Yes, I learned body art and got to explore some fringe communities even more intriguing and extreme, the next time, when he moved back, and I avoided him. But I’ve never felt so totally adored, and seen, and valued as the four months my dream lover called, and wrote and pursued me, while allowing me to be the silly, clutzy, clingy, waif I sometimes am, welcoming me into his home, his arms, his time.
There is no need to give him a name. If I haven’t completely bored everyone to tears, and lost all my readers, then everyone who knows me already knows of whom I speak. Including this glorious creature himself. So go ahead, roll your eyes and shake your head and put it down to another rant of the ever dramatic Tamia. But find the strength to bear with me while I figure this out. This is lifting the veil of my psyche and the mask I usually wear. Jeepers! We human beings really are just a bundle of reactions and defense mechanisms sometimes. Even when we think we’re all enlightened and spiritual and educated.
All the self examination has made me realize how much the heartache of never fully capturing this man’s attention and affections has shaped the rest of my life, and relationships, and influenced my choices. When he actually exited my life I turned the empty longing I felt towards the next nearest friend with a flair for style. I admit it, I went a little redneck, but who wants a cheap duplicate of some original you can’t have? The constant reminder would be torture to a passion filled creature such as me. I convinced myself that this other person was the one that broke my heart, and instead tried to duplicate him in my later relationships. I am not that crazy or obsessed! I didn’t KNOW I was doing all this!
What is this crazy, crazy defense mechanism? Why are so many people jealous of me when I can’t seem to get what I really want? I only ever wanted to have a deep intimacy where my lover truly is my very best friend, and someone it is SAFE to trust completely; to explore the depths of trust and intimacy and realism in romance. But it seems that while they are still writing songs of love, they are not for me… So, I will settle for great looks, fame and fortune, and have a life that some will envy. But I love home! I love a home filled with the ones I love, and trust and can really be myself with. I love cooking tasty meals for them. I love all the mushy, soft, warm, romantic, snuggling that ensues with a lover you trust completely.
And the intimacy of folding the laundry while stirring the soup and stealing kisses. Sunday comics cozy in bed, with coffee cups and wet towels abandoned on the floor. Happy, lazy pets, ignoring the phone… If steamy sex gets added to THIS mix it’s just icing. I can’t even imagine the bliss. I have never seen it. What would this feel like? I would never get anything done. But who cares? Life in the arms of heaven needs no qualifiers.
I’ve made some really stupid choices, not fully knowing what I was doing in my youth. I guess we all have. Now, cleaning up the debris from days gone by, I feel like I have feet of clay, and a heart of stone. I want to be loved like that, who doesn’t? – Clearly some people don’t want to put into it what they want out of it. We’re all here for different reasons, and relationships are often difficult at best. Certainly they are not really for everyone. I am ready to have a grown up relationship or none at all. But I do not even know how to begin, and it certainly takes two on the same page.
So I have all my love to give and share and grow, and my lifelong crush still won’t have me and distance makes it forever unlikely, and honestly, no one else will do. I know that now. What’s left of my trust is little more than skin deep anyhow, and that doesn’t grow back so easily. So I am done seeking substitutes; two marriages gone badly showed me what a mistake that was. So I will sit this one out. Welcome to the bench. Damn. Now I feel like Jane Austin. How wall flowery is that?
I have been trying to figure out what that is about, always losing at love. There is one man who rocks my socks and my world so totally, so completely, that I am a shapeless ball of uninteresting wax whenever I am near him. Neither one of my husband’s ever did this, although one came pretty close. I have loved and adored this particular man my entire adult life. I reconnected with him this past year and he made overtures of love at me that sent me reeling through time and space, and molecules. Since we are both grown-ups now, and have known each other forever, I chose to really believe him. Not just because the butterflies in my stomach and the rose garden told me too. Big mistake. Sort of…
I’ve spent two decades avoiding contact with him, and loving a memory because he is a confirmed bachelor. -Even before his own bad marriage. It’s crazy. I am crazy. I lose my balance so easily when he puts his hand in the small of my back, breathes on my neck, or even just smiles with his eyes and says something as simple as “hello”. If he makes contact with my skin I turn to liquid mercury, and melt into the carpet fibers to get lost amongst the pet dander. It can take me days to clear my head. What a boring conversationalist. I am no challenge at all. No wonder he loses interest. I probably would too.
I don’t NEED him. In fact a relationship with him would likely be the first ADULT one I’ve ever had. Believe me I have tried to resist his charm, and gorgeous smile. His playful banter while he spent 6 weeks trying to convince me how very compatible we are and right for each other. The light in his eyes and the way he reached for me when I talked about the space time continuum. I did resist. Really. I even tried to argue but didn’t have anything solid to stand on to prove my point. I could play hard to get, but I detest games, and I’ve wanted him a long, long time. Seeing him show some interest drove that home hard. Life is messy. This whole thing is so very bittersweet.
I have married men as different from this one as I could find, that still attracted me, and it’s made a huge mess of my life. Yes, I got a beautiful and amazing daughter, the first time I ran from his rejection. Yes, I learned body art and got to explore some fringe communities even more intriguing and extreme, the next time, when he moved back, and I avoided him. But I’ve never felt so totally adored, and seen, and valued as the four months my dream lover called, and wrote and pursued me, while allowing me to be the silly, clutzy, clingy, waif I sometimes am, welcoming me into his home, his arms, his time.
There is no need to give him a name. If I haven’t completely bored everyone to tears, and lost all my readers, then everyone who knows me already knows of whom I speak. Including this glorious creature himself. So go ahead, roll your eyes and shake your head and put it down to another rant of the ever dramatic Tamia. But find the strength to bear with me while I figure this out. This is lifting the veil of my psyche and the mask I usually wear. Jeepers! We human beings really are just a bundle of reactions and defense mechanisms sometimes. Even when we think we’re all enlightened and spiritual and educated.
All the self examination has made me realize how much the heartache of never fully capturing this man’s attention and affections has shaped the rest of my life, and relationships, and influenced my choices. When he actually exited my life I turned the empty longing I felt towards the next nearest friend with a flair for style. I admit it, I went a little redneck, but who wants a cheap duplicate of some original you can’t have? The constant reminder would be torture to a passion filled creature such as me. I convinced myself that this other person was the one that broke my heart, and instead tried to duplicate him in my later relationships. I am not that crazy or obsessed! I didn’t KNOW I was doing all this!
What is this crazy, crazy defense mechanism? Why are so many people jealous of me when I can’t seem to get what I really want? I only ever wanted to have a deep intimacy where my lover truly is my very best friend, and someone it is SAFE to trust completely; to explore the depths of trust and intimacy and realism in romance. But it seems that while they are still writing songs of love, they are not for me… So, I will settle for great looks, fame and fortune, and have a life that some will envy. But I love home! I love a home filled with the ones I love, and trust and can really be myself with. I love cooking tasty meals for them. I love all the mushy, soft, warm, romantic, snuggling that ensues with a lover you trust completely.
And the intimacy of folding the laundry while stirring the soup and stealing kisses. Sunday comics cozy in bed, with coffee cups and wet towels abandoned on the floor. Happy, lazy pets, ignoring the phone… If steamy sex gets added to THIS mix it’s just icing. I can’t even imagine the bliss. I have never seen it. What would this feel like? I would never get anything done. But who cares? Life in the arms of heaven needs no qualifiers.
I’ve made some really stupid choices, not fully knowing what I was doing in my youth. I guess we all have. Now, cleaning up the debris from days gone by, I feel like I have feet of clay, and a heart of stone. I want to be loved like that, who doesn’t? – Clearly some people don’t want to put into it what they want out of it. We’re all here for different reasons, and relationships are often difficult at best. Certainly they are not really for everyone. I am ready to have a grown up relationship or none at all. But I do not even know how to begin, and it certainly takes two on the same page.
So I have all my love to give and share and grow, and my lifelong crush still won’t have me and distance makes it forever unlikely, and honestly, no one else will do. I know that now. What’s left of my trust is little more than skin deep anyhow, and that doesn’t grow back so easily. So I am done seeking substitutes; two marriages gone badly showed me what a mistake that was. So I will sit this one out. Welcome to the bench. Damn. Now I feel like Jane Austin. How wall flowery is that?
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