I was in the car with my roommate the other day and we were talking about what guys normally talk about - booze, video games, and broads. I was telling him about how I met this very cute French girl through a yoga class and how I had just asked her out, to which he replied, "damn son, you just go for it don't you?" I guess I do. Later on in the conversation, we were recounting our sexless college years and why we did not (or could not) live the hedonistic college lifestyle of our peers. He spent too much time in his dorm room playing online role playing games, while my explanation was, "I just had no game back then."
His response surprised me and was a little off putting. He told me, "Dude, you still don't have game. You just don't give a fuck anymore."
Self-improvement has always been a big deal to me. I was born with a great many talents and abilities, chief among them is my intelligence as well as my natural ability to make friends and connect with people. I was not, however, born with any sort of innate ability with women. Much of this blog has been recounting my adventures in dating as a single guy, and a lot of it has to do with "success stories." Like any other guy, I get rejected far more than I get accepted - it's the nature of the game. I also, in my life, started from a point of deep insecurity when it came to women. It wasn't like starting from zero - for me, it was like starting from negative 100 when it came to my ability to relate romantically with the opposite sex. I have done just about every "wrong" thing in the book when it comes to women - obsessed about girls who I didn't even talk to, tried to "friend" my way into relationships, took rejections as an indictment not just on my abilities, but my character.
I've done a lot of work since I was in my teens, not just with regards to my love life, but with regards to my life in general. There was no epiphany moment - just a series of small improvements that led to a life of greater satisfaction and self-esteem. But when my roommate told me he didn't think I had "game" I took it a little more personally than I thought. One of the more abiding fears I have is that I am still the same awkward gangly teenager that I was before and that I haven't moved forward at all. The thought that I was still as "bad" at "the game" as I was in my teens got at a core insecurity of mine.
But then I began to reconsider. What, exactly, is "game?" I found this question surprisingly difficult to answer.
In my roommate's conception of "game," it's a man's ability, using some combination of his innate characteristics and some verbal jousting, to get a woman become sexually interested in him at a higher rate than the average guy. Indeed, there is an entire pick-up industry dedicated to teaching men lines and routines aimed to do exactly this.
And, my roommate is right - I do suck at this stuff. I'm really bad at verbal jousting and "adversarial" flirtation. I'm awful at being coy. Maybe it's because I'm a really bad liar, but it doesn't really come naturally to me. I'm terrible at saying something while implying something else. I'm just no good at that wink and a smile stuff, and trust me, I've tried it. The results have been awful.
But on the other hand, if we judge our "game" based on our results, then the story shifts. If you want a guy who'll charm the socks off the hottest girl in the room, I might not be that guy. But I am perfectly comfortable approaching a good looking woman and asking her for her number if I find her interesting. I'm also, on the whole, happy with the kinds of women I've attracted in my life. At the end of the day, isn't this the only thing that matters?
I love sports analogies. I don't think that any professional basketball player will tell you that they emulate their "game" to mirror that of Michael Jordan. They instead tailor their game to their strengths, through a lot of trial and error and practice. Steve Kerr, the Chicago Bulls' deadly outside shooter from their championship years, couldn't play like MJ; in fact, he would likely fail and fail hard if he tried. Instead he perfected his 3 point shot and became a key piece on a championship team.
Continuing at that analogy, I have long given up any notion of becoming a certain kind of "player archetype". I can't do the bad boy thing - after all, I'm a nerd, and, at my core, I'm a genuinely nice guy (which must be distinguished from the "Nice Guy" archetype that assumes being nice is enough to get into a woman's pants). I'm also, for better or worse, emotionally attuned. Trying to be someone I'm not only further disassociates me from who I am.
But getting out into the world and facing rejection also helped me realize that there were certain things I was good at. Verbal jousting wasn't my thing, but, given my level of emotional awareness, I could reach deeper and get to know her on a more intimate level in a shorter time period than most people I know. What also felt more natural to me was my ability to express desire without regret, which, after much rejection and a lot of time spent getting bruised in the dating game, has come to be something I do more naturally now.
Connection and desire - those are the two things I'm good at, and those are the two things that I rely on as my bread and butter with all the women I'm interested in. Does it work with all the women I am interested in? Absolutely not. And maybe I don't have "game." But I do okay for myself, and that's what matters.
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
The Tale of Two Dates
It's been a while since I posted this blog, but here I am, up with an all too frequent bout of insomnia, so now's a good a time as any to update peoples on my comings and goings, especially in regards to my love life. I'd like to say that I was out having out tons of romantic adventures during my 3 month hiatus, but I've just been absurdly busy with that other priority we call a "career". I know, boring, right? Other than a couple pretty lousy dates that I didn't feel the need to post about, it's been all quiet on that front, at least until recently.
I've actually been seeing two prospects right now, one I'll call the Reporter because, you guessed it, she's a reporter, and the other I'll call the Kenya girl because, well, she's currently off in Kenya until March. Ick. There are also a few other prospects on the radar, but they are only theoretical at this point and if they materialize into anything I'll post about them, but until then they exist ethereally in my mind.
I think that the three things that make up a romantic partnership are attraction, chemistry, and compatibility. These three things are often confounded with one another, but they are actually pretty distinct, in my opinion. Attraction is how physically attracted you feel about someone. Another way of putting it is, how fast does this person make your head turn? Compatibility is the least sexy but probably most important aspect of a relationship - it's the shared interests, values, and life goals that become the glue that hold a romantic partnership together. Chemistry is the most "black box" variable in this entire equation - it's the combination of sometimes tangible and often intangible qualities of someone's personal style that inspire feeling and emotion within us. Obviously these things are all correlated - you're more likely to feel physically attracted to someone with who you feel intense chemistry with, and sometimes vice versa. But it's important not to confound the three concepts. They are distinct.
Ideally, a relationship will feature all three, but sometimes entire relationships and marriages are based of two or just one of these ingredients. An arranged marriage may feature only attraction and compatibility but no chemistry. A companionate marriage may feature only compatibility. A friends with benefits relationship may be based off of just sex and a brief window of compatible wants. A one night stand could be just about attraction and nothing more. If you've ever met someone who married someone else who was far less attractive than them, this is a great example of chemistry and compatibility with less attraction.
In the past few months, I've experienced at least two combinations of these variables - chemistry and compatibility minus attraction, attraction and compatibility minus chemistry. If I look back far enough in my life, I also experienced a third combo long ago - chemistry and attraction minus compatibility, but that's a story for another blog post.
So, the first story is the story of the archeologist - chemistry and compatibility without attraction. She was one of the first girls I went out with when I got back from Thailand, and, yes, I met her through the internet. She messaged me and seemed interesting enough paper as well as attractive enough by her pictures so I figured, what the heck, it's just a date right? When we got together, I was stuck instantly by how well we got along - the chemistry between us was great, and we shared a lot of values and the same sense of humor.
But, there was a catch. While her pictures made it seem like I could be attracted to her, in person she was just... borderline at best. But the chemistry was so strong that I felt compelled to keep seeing her for at least a little, just to see whether the other two variables outweighed the first one. On our second date, we made out a bunch and the clothes came off, but it ended there because I really couldn't get around the fact that I just didn't like seeing her naked. Call me shallow if you will, but that was the rub unfortunately. She was deeply upset when I had to end it with her because, by her admission, we had just great chemistry, and she was right. But, to thine own self be true, as they say.
The second story is the story of the surgeon. I met her through mutual friends - she was pretty, kind, smart, successful, and nerdy. In other words, exactly the kind of girl I, theoretically want. And, she liked me, my most important requirement.
However, after a few weeks of dating, it was abundantly clear that "something" was missing, that something was chemistry. Put simply, I didn't feel it. The attraction was there, and the compatibility was there, but the chemistry wasn't and the more I went out with her, the more I sort of felt as though it wasn't going to work. When I kissed her, I felt as though I was doing it because I felt I should, and I simply didn't feel that spark.
So, a couple tales of "close but no cigar" in the fall. I'm still happy to have had these experiences, an am holding out for the girl who can hit all three cylinders... which brings me to the Kenya girl. But, maybe next time.
I've actually been seeing two prospects right now, one I'll call the Reporter because, you guessed it, she's a reporter, and the other I'll call the Kenya girl because, well, she's currently off in Kenya until March. Ick. There are also a few other prospects on the radar, but they are only theoretical at this point and if they materialize into anything I'll post about them, but until then they exist ethereally in my mind.
I think that the three things that make up a romantic partnership are attraction, chemistry, and compatibility. These three things are often confounded with one another, but they are actually pretty distinct, in my opinion. Attraction is how physically attracted you feel about someone. Another way of putting it is, how fast does this person make your head turn? Compatibility is the least sexy but probably most important aspect of a relationship - it's the shared interests, values, and life goals that become the glue that hold a romantic partnership together. Chemistry is the most "black box" variable in this entire equation - it's the combination of sometimes tangible and often intangible qualities of someone's personal style that inspire feeling and emotion within us. Obviously these things are all correlated - you're more likely to feel physically attracted to someone with who you feel intense chemistry with, and sometimes vice versa. But it's important not to confound the three concepts. They are distinct.
Ideally, a relationship will feature all three, but sometimes entire relationships and marriages are based of two or just one of these ingredients. An arranged marriage may feature only attraction and compatibility but no chemistry. A companionate marriage may feature only compatibility. A friends with benefits relationship may be based off of just sex and a brief window of compatible wants. A one night stand could be just about attraction and nothing more. If you've ever met someone who married someone else who was far less attractive than them, this is a great example of chemistry and compatibility with less attraction.
In the past few months, I've experienced at least two combinations of these variables - chemistry and compatibility minus attraction, attraction and compatibility minus chemistry. If I look back far enough in my life, I also experienced a third combo long ago - chemistry and attraction minus compatibility, but that's a story for another blog post.
So, the first story is the story of the archeologist - chemistry and compatibility without attraction. She was one of the first girls I went out with when I got back from Thailand, and, yes, I met her through the internet. She messaged me and seemed interesting enough paper as well as attractive enough by her pictures so I figured, what the heck, it's just a date right? When we got together, I was stuck instantly by how well we got along - the chemistry between us was great, and we shared a lot of values and the same sense of humor.
But, there was a catch. While her pictures made it seem like I could be attracted to her, in person she was just... borderline at best. But the chemistry was so strong that I felt compelled to keep seeing her for at least a little, just to see whether the other two variables outweighed the first one. On our second date, we made out a bunch and the clothes came off, but it ended there because I really couldn't get around the fact that I just didn't like seeing her naked. Call me shallow if you will, but that was the rub unfortunately. She was deeply upset when I had to end it with her because, by her admission, we had just great chemistry, and she was right. But, to thine own self be true, as they say.
The second story is the story of the surgeon. I met her through mutual friends - she was pretty, kind, smart, successful, and nerdy. In other words, exactly the kind of girl I, theoretically want. And, she liked me, my most important requirement.
However, after a few weeks of dating, it was abundantly clear that "something" was missing, that something was chemistry. Put simply, I didn't feel it. The attraction was there, and the compatibility was there, but the chemistry wasn't and the more I went out with her, the more I sort of felt as though it wasn't going to work. When I kissed her, I felt as though I was doing it because I felt I should, and I simply didn't feel that spark.
So, a couple tales of "close but no cigar" in the fall. I'm still happy to have had these experiences, an am holding out for the girl who can hit all three cylinders... which brings me to the Kenya girl. But, maybe next time.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Love is not a commodity, but a gift
I like to say that I'm only have three really notable skills. I was either born with these skills or developed them over time, I really couldn't tell you either way. The first is the ability to effortlessly use words to form concise and artful sentences. The second is the ability to establish intimate and long lasting friendships. The third is the ability to make passionate love. Ok, I'm only half joking about that last one: you'll have to confirm with my ex-girlfriends about that.
As I wind down my trip to Asia, I was ruminating recently about how many new friends I made here, how many old connections that were reinvigorated, and how many people I will miss when I leave. This is something I've always been exceptionally good at: making friends, no matter where I go, and no matter with who, regardless of age, circumstance, or creed. Give me a beer, two chairs, and a smile and I'll make a connection under most circumstances.
My trip ends in a week and most of my days are filled up with dinners I need to have, drinks I need to do, and we're not even covering time I'm spending with my two-week Thai girlfriend (more on that later). I always joked that if I was as good with my romantic pursuits as I was with my fraternal ones, I could give up my day job and become a gigolo.
But then I wondered, is the process by which we make friends all that different from the process by which we pursue lovers? While obviously they are not one and the same, aren't we just talking about establishing an emotional and social connection with someone? I like to say that I don't make good sentences; rather, good sentences come to me. I also never try to make friends, I just put myself out there and things tend to take care of themselves.
But when it comes to dating and romantic pursuits, I always considered this a deeply daunting task. Going on dates, hitting on girls, going out on more dates, online dating, and onward and so forth. Just thinking about it exhausted me, and I often joked that I could see the appeal of becoming a monk. When Hannah and I broke up, one of my first reactions was, "Dear God, I need to get out there again. I just don't know whether I have the wherewithal for getting back into the 'game' again."
As I thought more deeply about why I considered finding and making a romantic connection to be such a daunting task, I realized that it was due to a fundamental way I viewed the world of love. That is that I viewed love as a commodity. Not only a commodity, but a scarce one at that. Love was something to be sought, and when "found", to be treasured. If I think deeply, this might have to do with growing up in a family that saw the marriage between my mother and father slowly break down and dissolve over time. The love they had for one another petered out and at the end, all that was left was sadness and recrimination. Whether consciously or sub-consciously, I vowed to make all my relationships from then on "perfect."
Because of this, I put up requirements for all my potential lovers: they had to have these things in common with me, be of a certain type, be nerdy, be smart, be sweet. But I think, most importantly, I put pressure on myself to "get it right". Each interaction was a high stakes game of poker. I either folded right away when I felt the hand I was dealt wasn't a winner, or I went all in and put my heart on the line.
When it comes to making friendships, though, I don't see things that way at all. If I like you, I will tell you and I will want to get to know you. I was at a train station off in the provinces of Thailand last week and I helped as translator for a man from New Zealand. Afterwards I offered him my email address and told me to get in touch if he was ever in Bangkok and I'd buy him a drink. He never did, but I didn't care: I was offering because I genuinely wanted to get to know him better. I thought about this, and that's when I realized...
My friendship is a gift, and it's a gift I give freely and often. I give it freely because I have so much of it. I have an infinite supply of my ability and want to be your friend. Why can't my love be the same thing? If it's a gift that you have an infinite supply of, then you can't ever be mad if your gift is turned down. If you give it freely, honestly, and genuinely, without a need for anything in return, then you can never be disappointed.
Dating and the pursuit of love can be seen like a game, but what I didn't realize before is that the stack that I hold behind my hand is as large as I want it to be. People cordon themselves off because they think the love they have to give is finite. It isn't. My love is as big as I want it to be. Anybody can be offered it, it's just up to me to package it and start giving it away.
And this leads me to my next two stories: the story of the one night romance in Singapore and the only pick-up line you'll ever need, and the story of my two-week Thai girlfriend. Stay tuned, dear readers, there is certainly more to come!
As I wind down my trip to Asia, I was ruminating recently about how many new friends I made here, how many old connections that were reinvigorated, and how many people I will miss when I leave. This is something I've always been exceptionally good at: making friends, no matter where I go, and no matter with who, regardless of age, circumstance, or creed. Give me a beer, two chairs, and a smile and I'll make a connection under most circumstances.
My trip ends in a week and most of my days are filled up with dinners I need to have, drinks I need to do, and we're not even covering time I'm spending with my two-week Thai girlfriend (more on that later). I always joked that if I was as good with my romantic pursuits as I was with my fraternal ones, I could give up my day job and become a gigolo.
But then I wondered, is the process by which we make friends all that different from the process by which we pursue lovers? While obviously they are not one and the same, aren't we just talking about establishing an emotional and social connection with someone? I like to say that I don't make good sentences; rather, good sentences come to me. I also never try to make friends, I just put myself out there and things tend to take care of themselves.
But when it comes to dating and romantic pursuits, I always considered this a deeply daunting task. Going on dates, hitting on girls, going out on more dates, online dating, and onward and so forth. Just thinking about it exhausted me, and I often joked that I could see the appeal of becoming a monk. When Hannah and I broke up, one of my first reactions was, "Dear God, I need to get out there again. I just don't know whether I have the wherewithal for getting back into the 'game' again."
As I thought more deeply about why I considered finding and making a romantic connection to be such a daunting task, I realized that it was due to a fundamental way I viewed the world of love. That is that I viewed love as a commodity. Not only a commodity, but a scarce one at that. Love was something to be sought, and when "found", to be treasured. If I think deeply, this might have to do with growing up in a family that saw the marriage between my mother and father slowly break down and dissolve over time. The love they had for one another petered out and at the end, all that was left was sadness and recrimination. Whether consciously or sub-consciously, I vowed to make all my relationships from then on "perfect."
Because of this, I put up requirements for all my potential lovers: they had to have these things in common with me, be of a certain type, be nerdy, be smart, be sweet. But I think, most importantly, I put pressure on myself to "get it right". Each interaction was a high stakes game of poker. I either folded right away when I felt the hand I was dealt wasn't a winner, or I went all in and put my heart on the line.
When it comes to making friendships, though, I don't see things that way at all. If I like you, I will tell you and I will want to get to know you. I was at a train station off in the provinces of Thailand last week and I helped as translator for a man from New Zealand. Afterwards I offered him my email address and told me to get in touch if he was ever in Bangkok and I'd buy him a drink. He never did, but I didn't care: I was offering because I genuinely wanted to get to know him better. I thought about this, and that's when I realized...
My friendship is a gift, and it's a gift I give freely and often. I give it freely because I have so much of it. I have an infinite supply of my ability and want to be your friend. Why can't my love be the same thing? If it's a gift that you have an infinite supply of, then you can't ever be mad if your gift is turned down. If you give it freely, honestly, and genuinely, without a need for anything in return, then you can never be disappointed.
Dating and the pursuit of love can be seen like a game, but what I didn't realize before is that the stack that I hold behind my hand is as large as I want it to be. People cordon themselves off because they think the love they have to give is finite. It isn't. My love is as big as I want it to be. Anybody can be offered it, it's just up to me to package it and start giving it away.
And this leads me to my next two stories: the story of the one night romance in Singapore and the only pick-up line you'll ever need, and the story of my two-week Thai girlfriend. Stay tuned, dear readers, there is certainly more to come!
Monday, August 13, 2012
There's nothing wrong with "boring".
A friend of mine just got dumped by his girlfriend, so there seems to be something in the water. We both started dating our respective ex's at around the same time, so we sort of bonded on our mutual pursuit of our respective relationships. He, like me, is a quintessential nice guy (not the feminist Nice Guy, which is the subject of another post) who taught himself to be more assertive with women, but also was willing to open himself up and be emotionally vulnerable in the hopes of building something more.
So his heart got smashed, right around the same time mine did. Our bi-weekly dating debriefing sessions turned from navigating the waters of a new relationship to navigating the rapid waters of heartbreak. My ex dumped me as an attempt to distance herself emotionally and physically from me. His ex dumped him, apparently, because the relationship "bored" her. I asked him about what led to the break-up. He told me that while he was gone on a trip home, she told him that she didn't feel like she "missed" him. While I was more accepting of getting dumped, he fought for her and asked her for an explanation and tried to get her to reconsider. When pressed, she came up with a number of platitudes: "It's not you, it's me." "I'm just not ready to settle down, I guess." "I don't know what's wrong, you're great." At the end of the day, she just wasn't feeling "it". But what is "it" exactly?
Sometimes navigating the post-breakup waters is like investigating a crime scene. You look for clues as to what happened and why, and while you often can't resurrect the relationship, you can clue yourself into the possible pathological proclivities of you and your partner.
I asked my friend what her former relationships looked like. He told me that before she met him, she would often date guys who didn't treat her that well and would eventually dump her early on in the relationship - around the 5 or so month mark. I venture a guess (though obviously I'm just guessing) that these relationships were probably fraught with guessing and second guessing: the relationship dance where one party yearns for a deeper intimacy while the other party pulls away, and the cycle repeats.
A real tragedy about these kinds of relationships is that this emotional roller coaster is often mistaken for "chemistry" or "love" or "excitement" and people equate dysfunction with love. You get addicted to the emotional highs of it, but are absolutely demolished by the emotional lows. And, even worse, this kind of thing can persist for years because, as one of my favorite blogs says, "insecure people lack an understanding of what distinguishes good and bad relationships, and they don't actually realize there is anything wrong with their or their partners' behaviors."
What does a "healthy" relationship look like, really? According to Levine and Heller, authors of the fabulous book "Attached", pretty damn boring. What is it like dating a "secure" person? "For starters, they don't engage in the 'relationship dance' that therapists often refer to - whereby one partner gets closer while the other steps back in order to maintain a certain distance in the relationship at all times. Instead there's a feeling of growing closeness and intimacy. Second, they are able to sensitively and empathically - and most important, coherently - discuss emotions with you. Last, the secure party engulfs his or her partner in an emotionally protective shield that makes facing the outside world an easier task."
I was having dinner with a colleague of mine and her husband and we talked about our relationships, their current one and my former one. And, yes, life in a secure relationship is pretty boring. We're there for each other. We do things together. There are no roller coaster highs and lows. No epic fights. Yeah, there is conflict, but when conflict arises, we reach a mutual resolution that brings us closer together.
I don't know my friend's ex and why she broke up with him. But I do know that she said when they first started dating that he was everything she thought she wanted in a man: there for her, emotionally and physically. Kind, put-together, generous, and giving. And maybe she wasn't ready for that and needs to go through a few more trials and tribulations to realize that there's nothing wrong with just being boringly happy. You can't live your life on the edge of your seat forever, and the potential of a low-drama relationship offers us so much more in the long run. Coming to realize this is a big part of maturing and being able to enter a relationship that makes us truly happy.
So his heart got smashed, right around the same time mine did. Our bi-weekly dating debriefing sessions turned from navigating the waters of a new relationship to navigating the rapid waters of heartbreak. My ex dumped me as an attempt to distance herself emotionally and physically from me. His ex dumped him, apparently, because the relationship "bored" her. I asked him about what led to the break-up. He told me that while he was gone on a trip home, she told him that she didn't feel like she "missed" him. While I was more accepting of getting dumped, he fought for her and asked her for an explanation and tried to get her to reconsider. When pressed, she came up with a number of platitudes: "It's not you, it's me." "I'm just not ready to settle down, I guess." "I don't know what's wrong, you're great." At the end of the day, she just wasn't feeling "it". But what is "it" exactly?
Sometimes navigating the post-breakup waters is like investigating a crime scene. You look for clues as to what happened and why, and while you often can't resurrect the relationship, you can clue yourself into the possible pathological proclivities of you and your partner.
I asked my friend what her former relationships looked like. He told me that before she met him, she would often date guys who didn't treat her that well and would eventually dump her early on in the relationship - around the 5 or so month mark. I venture a guess (though obviously I'm just guessing) that these relationships were probably fraught with guessing and second guessing: the relationship dance where one party yearns for a deeper intimacy while the other party pulls away, and the cycle repeats.
A real tragedy about these kinds of relationships is that this emotional roller coaster is often mistaken for "chemistry" or "love" or "excitement" and people equate dysfunction with love. You get addicted to the emotional highs of it, but are absolutely demolished by the emotional lows. And, even worse, this kind of thing can persist for years because, as one of my favorite blogs says, "insecure people lack an understanding of what distinguishes good and bad relationships, and they don't actually realize there is anything wrong with their or their partners' behaviors."
What does a "healthy" relationship look like, really? According to Levine and Heller, authors of the fabulous book "Attached", pretty damn boring. What is it like dating a "secure" person? "For starters, they don't engage in the 'relationship dance' that therapists often refer to - whereby one partner gets closer while the other steps back in order to maintain a certain distance in the relationship at all times. Instead there's a feeling of growing closeness and intimacy. Second, they are able to sensitively and empathically - and most important, coherently - discuss emotions with you. Last, the secure party engulfs his or her partner in an emotionally protective shield that makes facing the outside world an easier task."
I was having dinner with a colleague of mine and her husband and we talked about our relationships, their current one and my former one. And, yes, life in a secure relationship is pretty boring. We're there for each other. We do things together. There are no roller coaster highs and lows. No epic fights. Yeah, there is conflict, but when conflict arises, we reach a mutual resolution that brings us closer together.
I don't know my friend's ex and why she broke up with him. But I do know that she said when they first started dating that he was everything she thought she wanted in a man: there for her, emotionally and physically. Kind, put-together, generous, and giving. And maybe she wasn't ready for that and needs to go through a few more trials and tribulations to realize that there's nothing wrong with just being boringly happy. You can't live your life on the edge of your seat forever, and the potential of a low-drama relationship offers us so much more in the long run. Coming to realize this is a big part of maturing and being able to enter a relationship that makes us truly happy.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
HBO's "Girls" and Our Dating Expectations
I just finished watching HBO's "Girls" on HBOGo. It's a funny little show, nothing spectacular, or even original really. It's essentially an indie version of Sex and the City with younger, poorer girls and without the expensive shoes. The girls in both shows are generally well meaning but emotionally stunted. Sex and the City concluded with all the main characters completing their meandering journey to love, despite their endearing personal quirks. No real substantial character growth happened - even if the main characters ended up with the love of their lives, it was more a story of the triumph of the serendipity of love rather than a story of personal improvement. Whether "Girls" suffers the same fate remains to be seen.
One disconcerting thing about "Girls" though, and a lot of media geared towards women, is a sort of dichotomous and, frankly, stereotypical view of men. Guys in "Girls" are either stereotypically emotionally distant jerks or wimpy non-aggressive nice guys. There's very little gray area. Now I understand that sitcoms and other shows use stereotypical tropes for comedic effect, and "Girls" would hardly be a first. But I also think that it's lazy and potentially destructive, because it feeds into a stereotype about the world that many believe is true.
That's correct: I've mentioned this somewhat minor criticism of the show to some of my female friends, and I've been alarmed to the extent to which many of them think that this is true; that the world really is divided into either wimpy nice guys or emotionally distant assholes. The entire world, no gray area. How many billion men on the planet? Two categories. When I challenge them on this, most often by asking them where I, personally, stand, I've been told either one of two things. The nice ones will either say "well you're the rare exception." The meaner ones (and really, calling her a "friend" is admittedly a stretch) tells me outright that I fall into the category of "wimpy nice guy".
Sure, I'm nice. I also believe in being there for my partner. And maybe I'm a little anxious too. But I also will ask you out on a date when I think you're cute. I'll will push you up against the wall and make out with you if passion takes me. I would hardly say that's "wimpy". I say this not to be defensive, as I'm sure I've gone out with many women who found me "too nice" or "too wimpy". But, that's fine. I am who I am, and the point is, when we look deeper, people all of a sudden become harder to categorize.
One thing about being a researcher and a social scientist you learn is that the "truth" or the "true nature" of the world rarely ever conforms to an absolutist black and white version of events. Why things happen and why we observe certain events in the world can be approximated, but often, even when things are statically significant, they can only explain a fraction of the variance. If that's all statistical mumbo-jumbo to you, suffice to say that even when we're certain a particular variable has an influence on an outcome, it never, ever explains the whole story.
That being said, a trend that I see a lot is that we adopt a certain, and very binary world view: that men are either "wimps" or "assholes, or that women are either "crazy" or "boring," and lo and behold, the world we choose to live in conforms to our expectations. There's an idea in dating that often we attract what we expect, principally because in dating it takes two to tango. A guy who thinks all women are bitches and behaves as such will not attract a woman who is genuine and caring. Why? Because any genuine and caring woman would invariably be turned off by dating a guy with messed up misogynistic believes. The sorting process will play out. Invariably, the only woman willing to date someone with those beliefs is someone who holds those beliefs herself, even if subconsciously.
The flip side are women who believe that men play games and therefore play games themselves. Maybe they wait to call, maybe they play hard to get. The deeply ironic thing is that, by doing this, they're actually filtering out men who don't play games and who aren't emotionally distant. In that way, we get what we expect.
Think of, then, the expectation that men are either wimpy nice guys or emotionally distant assholes. If that's the case, then you either have to choose between a wimpy nice guy, or an emotionally distant asshole, and the women who believe this usually choose the latter (because they "aren't attracted to" wimps). But by dividing the world is such a black and white dichotomous way, they're missing out on all the good in the gray. It is not surprising to me that my friends who do have this dichotomous view of the world end up in relationships that are marred by the "relationship dance" where one partner chases emotional validation and the other shuts them out. The real sad thing is, it doesn't need to be this way. People mistake this dance as chemistry or love, but it's actually just acute emotional dysfunction.
You can meet someone who is confident, but emotionally intelligent and giving. It isn't a rarity, we are out there. You just have to look within yourself, ask yourself whether you're willing to write that guy off as either "too good to be true" or "too boring", or whether you're willing to give him a chance.
One disconcerting thing about "Girls" though, and a lot of media geared towards women, is a sort of dichotomous and, frankly, stereotypical view of men. Guys in "Girls" are either stereotypically emotionally distant jerks or wimpy non-aggressive nice guys. There's very little gray area. Now I understand that sitcoms and other shows use stereotypical tropes for comedic effect, and "Girls" would hardly be a first. But I also think that it's lazy and potentially destructive, because it feeds into a stereotype about the world that many believe is true.
That's correct: I've mentioned this somewhat minor criticism of the show to some of my female friends, and I've been alarmed to the extent to which many of them think that this is true; that the world really is divided into either wimpy nice guys or emotionally distant assholes. The entire world, no gray area. How many billion men on the planet? Two categories. When I challenge them on this, most often by asking them where I, personally, stand, I've been told either one of two things. The nice ones will either say "well you're the rare exception." The meaner ones (and really, calling her a "friend" is admittedly a stretch) tells me outright that I fall into the category of "wimpy nice guy".
Sure, I'm nice. I also believe in being there for my partner. And maybe I'm a little anxious too. But I also will ask you out on a date when I think you're cute. I'll will push you up against the wall and make out with you if passion takes me. I would hardly say that's "wimpy". I say this not to be defensive, as I'm sure I've gone out with many women who found me "too nice" or "too wimpy". But, that's fine. I am who I am, and the point is, when we look deeper, people all of a sudden become harder to categorize.
One thing about being a researcher and a social scientist you learn is that the "truth" or the "true nature" of the world rarely ever conforms to an absolutist black and white version of events. Why things happen and why we observe certain events in the world can be approximated, but often, even when things are statically significant, they can only explain a fraction of the variance. If that's all statistical mumbo-jumbo to you, suffice to say that even when we're certain a particular variable has an influence on an outcome, it never, ever explains the whole story.
That being said, a trend that I see a lot is that we adopt a certain, and very binary world view: that men are either "wimps" or "assholes, or that women are either "crazy" or "boring," and lo and behold, the world we choose to live in conforms to our expectations. There's an idea in dating that often we attract what we expect, principally because in dating it takes two to tango. A guy who thinks all women are bitches and behaves as such will not attract a woman who is genuine and caring. Why? Because any genuine and caring woman would invariably be turned off by dating a guy with messed up misogynistic believes. The sorting process will play out. Invariably, the only woman willing to date someone with those beliefs is someone who holds those beliefs herself, even if subconsciously.
The flip side are women who believe that men play games and therefore play games themselves. Maybe they wait to call, maybe they play hard to get. The deeply ironic thing is that, by doing this, they're actually filtering out men who don't play games and who aren't emotionally distant. In that way, we get what we expect.
Think of, then, the expectation that men are either wimpy nice guys or emotionally distant assholes. If that's the case, then you either have to choose between a wimpy nice guy, or an emotionally distant asshole, and the women who believe this usually choose the latter (because they "aren't attracted to" wimps). But by dividing the world is such a black and white dichotomous way, they're missing out on all the good in the gray. It is not surprising to me that my friends who do have this dichotomous view of the world end up in relationships that are marred by the "relationship dance" where one partner chases emotional validation and the other shuts them out. The real sad thing is, it doesn't need to be this way. People mistake this dance as chemistry or love, but it's actually just acute emotional dysfunction.
You can meet someone who is confident, but emotionally intelligent and giving. It isn't a rarity, we are out there. You just have to look within yourself, ask yourself whether you're willing to write that guy off as either "too good to be true" or "too boring", or whether you're willing to give him a chance.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Dating as a End in and of Itself
I've always said that the real tragedy about breakups is not the relationship ending, but rather failing to learn any lessons from it ending. In a way, despite the pain and anguish, a breakup offers us an opportunity to learn about ourselves and grow as human beings, after the dust of heartbreak settles.
In the weeks subsequent to my being dumped, I kept entertaining a recurring fantasy: that Hannah would come back, and that she would confess to me in tears that dumping me was the worst decision she'd ever made. That she was wrong to give up a good guy like me so easily, and that she would regret that decision. At the end of the conversation, I would turn her down, saying that I had moved on but that I wished her the best.
I told my therapist (who've I've been seeing sporadically for the last couple years) about this fantasy and we probed a bit deeper. He said that this kind of fantasy is actually a soft revenge fantasy, sourced in vindictiveness and anger. And that anger that we feel as spurned lovers is a mask for a deeper emotion: disappointment.
But where did this disappointment and anger come from? While it is, of course, always a sad thing when a relationship end, why do some people handle it so much differently than others? Why are some people bitter and vindictive, while others wistful, but appreciative?
This is where the concept of doing things as a means to an end as opposed to dating as an end in and of itself comes in. This applies not just to dating, but how we handle all the things we do in life. And this slight difference in view point makes all the world of difference in how we perceive things, especially when things go awry.
Seeing what we do as a means to an end means that we view our actions with an outcome in mind. We go to school to get a degree. We get the degree so we can get a job. We work at our job so we can get money. We use our money to buy stuff.
On the other hand, seeing things as an end in and of itself means that we do things for the value we get out of doing them, independent of outcome. We go to school because we love learning. We work at our job because we enjoy what we do and it gives us great personal satisfaction.
Apply this concept to dating. If we were dating as a means to an end, what would that mean? Well, think about our goals. Assuming that most men want sex, then dating would be a means of getting laid (of course, this is not always the case, but often the case). And assuming that most women want commitment/marriage, then dating would be a means to achieving that. And when a relationship ends without either sex or marriage, what do we hear from the spurned? Anger. Vindictiveness. A sense of betrayal. "What a waste of time that relationship was." "I wasted X years/months of my life for what? For nothing!"
Now look at it from the other perspective: dating as an end of itself. Given this outlook, why do we date the people we date? Because we are attracted to them, enjoy their company, and enjoy the shared intimacy and emotional connection with that person. Does this mean we're not sad when relationships end? Absolutely not. A romantic partnership ending, like I said, is always a sad and disappointing affair. But that added layer of anger, bitterness, and betrayal doesn't need to be there.
When I look back at my long term relationship, I have nothing but fond memories of my time with her. When I entered that relationship, we were two teenagers in college and we didn't know what we were signing up for and what was going to happen. A long lasting and loving relationship blossomed without the weight of undue expectation. And it was a very sad thing when it ended, but both of us can look back on our relationship like the end of a good novel: satisfied that we read it, but with twinge of sadness and regret that a great story is over.
With me an Hannah on the other hand, I realize now that I was dating her with an end in mind. I had been single for so long, and had been so long without the intimacy and security of a relationship, that I built an expectation within myself that she would become my girlfriend. When she did, I was very happy, but when our brief relationship ended, I felt betrayed, disappointed, and angry. The contract that I had written within myself was that if I could be kind enough to her, if I could be good enough in bed, if I could be a good enough boyfriend, then she would be my girlfriend.
When she decided to spontaneously exit our relationship, I felt as though my internal contract had been violated. So instead of just dealing with the feelings of disappointment, sadness, and yearning that are natural with the heart-break process, I added an extra layer of betrayal, anger, and vindictiveness on top of it. I felt as though I did my part: I was a good boyfriend, a great lover, and emotionally available. I felt as though she didn't uphold her end of the bargain: to be my girlfriend and accept me as I was.
What I realize now is that not only did she not see our relationship the same way, but that she really did not owe me anything. In her final emails to me, she told me how great of a time she had in our brief time together, and wished me luck. I'm sure she'll remember me as the right man at the wrong time. And now it's up to me to take that contract and rip it up. Time to appreciate what I had, realize that we as human beings in relationships don't owe each other anything but ourselves in the moment, and recognize the moments I shared with Hannah that were beautiful, if brief.
In dating, it behooves us to apply this concept of doing things as an end itself. Why should we approach that girl? Not because we want to get laid, but because we are attracted to her and want to know more about her. Why should we go out with someone? Because we want to get to know them better and spend time together. Why should someone become our significant other? Not for marriage, but for partnership.
So, with that contract dissolved, I can look back and appreciate my relationship with Hannah, even if it was cut so tragically short. If I'm sad it's because I miss being with a sexy, smart, kind, and fun girl. If I'm disappointed, it's because we were going to have a great time together. But, at the end, my brief relationship with her was good for my soul. I know it, and am thankful for it.
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