No Shit Dating and Relationship Advice (Part IV)

Photo by Jim Newberry

[This is going to be the final installment of this series.  It pretty much sums up my whole view of relationships, though the preceding installments are useful for more tactical approaches to dating and relationships.]

Be the person you want to attract and be in a relationship with

It’s never, ever, ever, ever about the other person.  Not even that one time.

This is the sad and good news.  Sad because accepting this holds us responsible for all of our failed relationships, courting nightmares and people we attract.  Good because nothing is wrong with the universe.  There is no shortage of good men or sane women.  Our childhoods did not irreparably damage us.  We are the problem and solution.  We hold the key to your pasts, presents and futures.

An easy way to demonstrate this is by looking at how we often seek qualities in a partner that we do not possess ourselves.  I know scores of fat, out-of-shape guys who deride women for not being pretty and thin enough.  I know scores of women who complain about men being irresolute and uncommitted yet engage in relationships with these same men, even though the women know they are not what they want; in other words, they are irresolute and uncommitted about what they want.

Focusing on other people’s faults always seems to make ours disappear.

If you want a fit partner, exercise.  If you want a more worldly partner, travel.  If you want a partner who listens, listen.  If want more mature partners, be mature.  If you want greater commitment, commit to what you want.

Perhaps you think you are the things you seek.  You think you are responsible, healthy, or whatever trait you’re looking for in a partner.  Yet you attract irresponsible, unhealthy, etc. partners—or none at all.  Instead of asking yourself if you might be the problem, conceding that you may have blind-spots about yourself, you blame the other party.  You sooner declare a global drought of suitable partners than look at what it is in you that continually attracts and creates what you seemingly don’t want.

I write “seemingly” because we always get what we want, even though it seems like we don’t.  The problem is what we want unconsciously trumps what we want consciously.  Our want to feel important, look good, be comfortable, be right, secure, not change, not be alone and so on, trumps and undermines our want to be happy, healthy, generous, etc.  Don’t believe me?  Look at your relationships and who you attract into your life.  They are the evidence that this is true.

Many of us will point to our families and friendships as evidence that we aren’t doing anything wrong.  Because they work so well, it shows that we know how to be in healthy relationships.  The only logical conclusion is that there is a good-man or sane-woman shortage.

Family, friends, co-workers and other non-romantic relationships show us who we are, but not in the way romantic ones do.  If relationships are like mirrors for who we are, then family, friends, etc. are like a mirror you pass in the hallway—useful for straightening up and checking yourself out.  Romantic relationships are like those cosmetic mirrors, where every pore and imperfection stands out.  Our romantic partners and prospects show us what we really think about ourselves, what we are really willing to accept out of our lives—not some intellectualized concept we talk about with friends.

This close-viewing is the promise romantic relationships hold.  It’s hard to find out so much about ourselves without this level of intimacy.  Living a life filled with only friends and family, it’s easier to stop short of full self-knowledge.  The level of closeness inherent in romantic relationships forces people to do one of three things:  confront themselves, impose an uneasy stalemate or abandon ship.  If you’re ready to take a deep look at yourself and really free yourself, few situations are more conducive to that than romantic relationships.

Also realize that just because our partners and prospects don’t match up with the misbegotten notions we have about ourselves, this inconsistency need not be a deal-breaker.  We need people to work our shit out with.  It’s preferable to do it with someone who’s more-or-less on the same page.  It’s delusional to think you’re going to find someone without problems.  The key is to find someone with complimentary problems and wants to work them out with you.  This is actually the best part of my present relationship:  we both have shit, but we use each other to work that shit out.

This is all a long-winded way of saying keep the attention on yourself.  Like everything, courtship, dating and relationships are inside jobs.  The perceiver and the perceived are the same thing.  You want to attract a great partner?  You want a great relationship?  Be a great person.

No Shit Dating and Relationship Advice (Part III)

Love makes you strong apparently.

[I’m still going and probably have a few more things to say.  I might just take out the “part” part.]

Focus on being happy and having a good time

Men and women act ridiculous when trying to attract a partner.  Men act serious and/or predatory.  Women act aloof and humorless.  If you want to attract someone and keep him or her attracted, stop fronting.  It’s unattractive.  Fun, happy people are attracted to fun, happy people.  Fronting, insecure people are attracted to fun, happy people too (but not vice versa).

Back in my single days, I was reasonably adept at meeting women.  My guy friends asked me how I did it and I said, “smile and give yourself reasons to smile all the time.”  It’s was a win-win.  I was happy, and I attracted people—men, women, happy and unhappy alike.  Humans want to be happy.  When someone seems to have that trait, we gravitate toward it.

There are some who are drawn toward darkness and sadness.  If that’s what these folks want their lives to look like, then they should move toward that moody dude or that sad-eyed girl.  Maybe their love will fix them.

The rest of us want to be happy.  And happy-loving people rarely see someone and think, “Man, who’s that anxious guy/girl over there?  I want to get to know him/her.”  Don’t be one of those anxious/fearful/angry/sad guys or girls.

Give yourself reasons to smile.  Hang out with fun friends.  Do things that interest you.  This principle holds true whether you’re single, dating or married.

If you really can’t create reasons to smile, you probably shouldn’t be concerned with dating and relationships.  Take yourself off the market until you address your needs.  Do yourself and the dating pool a favor.  Seriously.

Make your romantic intentions known

For men, this means taking risks.  The reason men don’t risk and let their romantic intentions be known is they fear being rejected.  They think that if they make their intentions known, it’ll scare women away before they know the great guys they are.  So these men act as though they are only interested in being friends, hoping the girls will come around.  These guys rarely get as far as friendship, having to content themselves with indifferent stares and fake phone numbers.  If they do make friendship inroads, it usually ends in bitterness because the woman shacked up with some guy who had the balls to be straight about how he feels.

Don’t be an asexual lump.  It’s better to go down swinging.  And relax, not every woman is going to think you’re hot.  You don’t find every woman hot, right?  Be bold.

It’s prudent to clarify what I mean by taking risks, letting your intentions be known and being bold.  It does not mean groping or harassing or any other form of forceful behavior.  It means clearly offering your intentions to the other party for consideration.  She can take or leave this offering—this part is out of the man’s control.

For women, this means taking risks too.  She has to be vulnerable enough to admit she is interested in a guy romantically.  Women do the “just friends” thing too, hanging on far too long with men they are attracted to in order to avoid what they probably already know:  that the attraction is not shared.  Most women know this from the get-go but are afraid of admitting it.  They’ll endure a purgatorial vagueness in the relationship rather than knowing one way or the other.

You might be thinking, “What if a woman is attracted to an asexual lump who doesn’t know how to make his intentions known?”  To which I answer, few woman are attracted to asexual lumps.

Men who have experience with women—men women are attracted to—tend to make their intentions clear from the outset, be they romantic or not.

Some men and women send mixed signals, making their intentions unclear.  If this is the case, at some point you will have to ask what their intentions are and deal with the consequences.  Whether the answer is that they are attracted, not or uncertain, you’ll have an answer (and yes, “uncertain” is an answer).  Better to know sooner than later.

I don’t have personal experience with how this plays out in gay relationships, though I imagine it’s much the same as straight ones.  Be clear about your intentions.  If they are not reciprocated, accept it or move on.

There is the chance that two people are just friends and romantic feeling develop over time.  This is ideal.  Romance combined with friendship endures.  Romance without friendship crashes.  Who I am speaking to are people who know how they feel but are afraid of expressing those feelings.

No Shit Dating and Relationship Advice (Part II)

Do you shack up with people or fantasies?

[This is part II of an unknown numbered series.  Part I is here.]

Don’t have sex until you know the person you are having sex with

Revolutionary right?  That you might actually want to know the person you are having sex with.  But I have lots of personal experience having sex on the first, second or, at latest, third date.  I know I’m far from alone.  It’s almost never ended well for me and I’m pretty sure you’re no different.

A friend of mine said, “There is no such thing as casual sex.”  When we have sex, our bodies tell us, “You are now in a relationship.”  Our hearts and minds, on the other hand, haven’t had time to discern their feelings on the matter.  Maybe we’ll like this person, but maybe not.  Who knows?  I’ve jumped this gun many times, finding myself in a relationship with someone I barely knew.  Rather than confess my error, I slog away at relationships with women I have nothing in common with aside from anatomical compatibility, sometimes for years.  This problem would have been avoided had I known the people I was having sex with.

See people for who they are

As Emerson said, “What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.”  Pay attention to people’s behavior, not to their words or who we want them to be.

We often can’t see people for who they are because of our ulterior motives.  Most of us think we are broken and believe we are unworthy of being loved.  When a datable girl or guy comes along, we create the fantasy “he/she is going to fix/complete me/make me lovable.”  With this fantastic pot at the end of the relationship rainbow, all of our observations are skewed.  We will believe words and look for actions that affirm the fantasy rather than observing actions that might directly contradict them.

In our fantasy land, our new partner—who might be someone we just met in a bar—can do no wrong.  We overlook her deeply bitten fingernails or his constant looking at other girls.  This is why online dating is problematic.  We literally don’t see anything.  All we have are words that people write about themselves; words that would be negated by 10 seconds of face-time.

These fantasies are often projected in a flash.  You see a guy with a tweed jacket and fantasize about reading books together in bed on Sunday mornings.  You see a girl with a backpack and imagine family expeditions to the Himalayas.  When we set up these kind of fantasies, it’s almost impossible for things to work out because no one ever lives up to our fantasies.

People are mixed bags.  We have healthy and not-so-healthy traits.  Ignoring either side shows us that we are disconnected from reality.  A good test of this is how often we use or think the words “always” or “never” in relationship to someone. “He is always so thoughtful.”  “She never considers my feelings.”  No one always or never does anything.

Healthy relationships and courtships are based on being with someone in reality, not in fantasy—loving and respecting the mixed bag that they are.  If you meet someone and they do something you don’t like, don’t expect that behavior to change.  Accept it or move on.

Don’t talk smack about your prospective partners

“There are no good men.”  “Women are crazy.”  “Gay men can’t commit.”  “Lesbian women are too dominant.”  When we say these things, it creates a lens through which we see the world.  Men cannot be good.  Women cannot be sane.  Gay men cannot be committed.  Lesbian women can’t be agreeable.  We think we have evidence, but the evidence is all collected looking through the lens.  Take off the lens.

The first step is stop saying these things.  It may take some work because we are often surrounded by people who agree with our contentions.  Many women surround themselves with other women who believe there are no good men.  Many men surround themselves with other men who believe women are crazy.  Maybe some time away from these people is in order.  Hang out with people who are in healthy relationships.  Barring that, don’t participate in the conversation.

No Shit Dating and Relationship Advice (Part I)

This could be you.

[This post got a bit long-winded, so I’m splitting it into 2, maybe 3 parts]

The issue of meeting a romantic partner has come up a lot in my life recently.  I talk to countless men who can’t meet good women or men, women who can’t meet good men or women.  Perhaps they are coming to me because I am (somewhat disbelievingly) in a healthy relationship with someone I am connected with emotionally and physically.  They want to know what we’re doing.

I’m no expert, but I know some basic things that do and do not work in relationships.  I was also single for a long time and had a certain facility meeting the opposite sex.  I figured I’d codify what I know.  These principles/guidelines are directed toward single people, but apply equally to people in relationships.

What do you want?

This is a huge issue for for both men and women.  We have no idea what we want.  Without that bearing, what happens is we meet someone and ask, “Does he/she like me?”  Or we settle for someone who likes us rather than going for what we want.

Rarely do we ask, “Is this what
I want?”

In these directionless relationships, a power balance inevitably arises.   As a friend said, “In every relationship there is a junkie and a pusher” (this friend was a relationship nightmare for the record).  The junkies wonder whether the pushers likes them and obsess about the pusher’s every action.  The pusher’s attention is their lifeblood; it’s where they derive their power.  The junkies diminish themselves, lie and generally piss away their lives in order to keep that power coming.

It’s hardly easier for the pusher, who most of us have been at some point.  The pusher’s narrative goes like this:  “I met/am dating/married to someone, but I’m not that into him/her.”  The pushers persist in these relationships, not because they like the other person, but because they derive power from the dependency—a power they likely lack in other domains of their lives.  But it’s a destructive power.  The junkie is in servitude.  The pusher is unfulfilled and neither party has what they want (unless you count not-being-alone as a desire).

A healthy dynamic is to treat meeting someone like making an important purchase.  For example, when we shop for a car, we get the best car based on our needs and budget.  We don’t purchase based on whether the car likes us.  Chances are most people will not be the item we want.  Find out what you want and don’t be afraid to shop around.

Don’t talk poorly about yourself

Don’t talk about your shitty job, fat ass or unfinished associates degree from DeVry.  It’s not funny.  It’s not disarming.  It’s not “real.”  It’s pathetic (I know because I’ve done it a million times).

Some self-effacing jokes are okay, but they have to be jokes, not veiled indictments against ourselves.  Be kind to yourself, or better yet don’t say anything about your character.  Let your behavior demonstrate who you are.

There is a caveat to this:  if you are looking for people who find comfort in mediocrity, by all means talk smack about yourself.

Don’t talk about your past

This is a tricky one because most of us are still embroiled in our pasts.  We have left wakes of physical and psychic damage from past relationships.  We haven’t cleaned things up.  We haven’t looked at our mommy/daddy issues.  If these things are the case, our pasts will inevitably come up in conversation.

Deal with your past.  Until you do, all your relationships will be condemned to a variation on a past-based theme. Continue reading “No Shit Dating and Relationship Advice (Part I)”

Tired is a Story, Stories are Tired

From ages 8 to 23, I was an insomniac.  I would lay in bed for countless hours wishing for sleep.  My body would be exhausted, my eyes heavy and burning, but my mind would be alert and racing.  I usually passed out around daybreak, only to wake a few hours later.

I tried to treat body and mind.  I drank chamomile tea. I took melatonin. I had a white-noise generator.  I went to a therapist.  I played games like “stop thinking for a minute.”  I created elaborate fantasy worlds with serial plot-lines to pass the hours in bed and still my anxiety.  When I was 16, I started smoking weed.  Later, Jim Beam became Mr. Sandman.

When I sobered up at 23, my biggest fear was not how I was going to have fun or what people would think of me.  I feared not sleeping.

Fortunately, that fear was unfounded.  By no longer annihilating myself and addressing my underlying emotional problems, I ended up with pretty normal sleeping patterns.  I fall asleep easily and stay that way the whole night through most nights.

While my difficulties with sleeping are gone, my story about sleeping continues to be an issue.  This became apparent to me the other night.

I was helping some friends out and what we were doing was running longer than I had anticipated.  It was about 10PM and I decided I wanted to go home.  The thought “I’m so tired” entered my mind.  I started to yawn repeatedly.  My eyes started to close and burn.

I told the people around me that I was tired as well.  I wanted everyone to comprehend my situation. Continue reading “Tired is a Story, Stories are Tired”

You Will Never Get a Break

In the summer of 1997 I rode my bicycle from Boulder, Colorado to Seattle, Washington to Portland, Maine.  It was an epic journey.  I hated almost every minute of it.

The problem was that I wanted to say I rode across the US more than I wanted to ride it.  This dubious motivation made me want the trip over before it began.  I wanted the medallion of cross-country tourer.  Most of the countless hours in the saddle were spent listening to the nagging mantra, “Am I there yet?”

The only times I enjoyed myself were during the hardest moments.  There were a few mountain passes in the Washington—Rainy, North Cascades and Sherman—where I scaled 20-plus mile passes in rain and 40-degree temperatures.  The conditions were so consuming that I couldn’t focus on the fact that the ride wasn’t over.  As cliche as it sounds, when I became absorbed by the journey, not the destination, I actually had a good time. Continue reading “You Will Never Get a Break”

On Talking Shit

Watch out for empty speech.

When I boozed a lot, I bought a micro-cassette recorder to keep track of all my ideas.  I was certain alcohol was the lubricant that unlocked my genius.  While drunk, I spoke poetry, I ejaculated ideas of earth-shattering import, I was an uncaged, intellectual giant.  And while I couldn’t stay drunk all the time (try as I did) I could record the profusion of profundity my debauches unleashed.

I would listen to the recordings the next day, eager to convert my ideas into gold.  What I invariably heard was horseshit, unless you consider protracted, vowel-heavy emanations the hallmark of genius.  “I aaaaaaaaaamm gooooooaannnn staaaaaaann, aaaaaahhh….”

Meaningless speech is by no means the sole domain of 2AM drunken ramblings:

  • “I’ll call you.”
  • “Maybe see you there tonight.”
  • “I’m going to cut out sugar this month.”
  • “For sure, let’s start a _____ group/business/team.”
  • “Blah, blah, fuckity, blah.”

We say things all the time that we either don’t think through, don’t mean or are irresolute about.  We make plans, conjure up big ideas and declare that we will make them happen—“for sure”—only to forget these things or “change our minds” when we see what it takes to carry them out.

Breaking our word is made easier by peers who let us off the hook because they don’t want to get called out on their broken word.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night,” we might say.

“Oh, that’s cool.  Don’t sweat it,” they say, knowing that their excusal is a coupon for their own future transgressions.

What happens over time is that every promise unkept, appointment missed, agreement broken and project abandoned creates a karmic residue.  It’s not only that others learn not to believe what we say.  We don’t believe what we say.  We don’t trust ourselves.  The connection between what we say and do is weakened.  Depending on how far we let it slide, our word can mean nothing, little or, as is the case for majority of people, it’s like a lottery that pays out every now and again.

This whole “be your word” thing is dicey in some circles.  Many think, “Don’t be such a hard-ass.  Take it easy.  They’re just words.”

I would love to take it easy.  I would love it if all the things I said but did not follow through with had no impact on me and didn’t diminish people’s estimation of me.  But my experience is unequivocal:  when I break my word it diminishes my power to make things happen.

If you’re finding it tough to keep you word, or you feel like you can’t get shit moving in your life, here are a few suggestions:

  1. Keep track of what you say. Whether it’s a planner, notebook or phone, have someplace where you keep track of what you say you’ll do (this includes old stuff).  Let your unkept words burn a hole in your head until you follow through with and complete them.
  2. Honor your word, even when you don’t keep it. There are times when you are compelled to break your word for whatever reason—sickness, injury, death, some unmissable opportunity arises.  If that’s the case, honor your word and do your best to clean it up.  If it’s a broken appointment, reschedule.  If it’s a project or goal you set out to do by a certain time, renegotiate the time.  This caveat can be abused.  We can become known as a cleanup crew for broken words.  Honoring your word in the face of a broken one is plan B.  It’s easier to stick with plan A wherever possible and keep your word.
  3. Shut up. Really, stop talking shit.  Stop saying things you don’t mean or have no intention of following through with.  It’s better to not make an appointment than make one and miss it.  I heard somewhere, “A good man does what he says.  A wise man doesn’t say much.”

High Times all the Times

Walter from Big Lebowski looks like a fatter version of Shorty.

Shorty was a 6’5”, buzz-cut, Wisconsin native, who always wore army fatigues and shooting glasses.  He lived in a ranch-style house across the street from the soon-to-be-defunct Stapleton Airport in Denver.  He chose this gang-infested, jet-fuel-smelling neighborhood because it was a discreet locale for his weed-growing operation.

Shorty had a massive hydroponic setup with 5 x 1K watt high-pressure-sodium lights in his flowering room and an even bigger vegging room with rows of florescent lights.  He had 3 x 5’ clone mothers.  Because of the massive amounts of juice the lights used, the rest of the house’s electricity expenditures were limited to a couple bare lightbulbs and a discman with portable speakers.  No fridge, no TV.  Shorty spent his days tending his crop, listening to Little Feet on the discman and pulling hits from his resin-caked bong.

I was one of 2 people who knew where he lived.  I made weekly pilgrimages to pick up his fresh and uncured buds.  While impressive to look at fresh pot, curing it, particularly when I was living with my folks, was not a simple task.  If there was not enough air, it will mold.  If there’s too much air, it would become dry, harsh and brittle.  It also smelled like a dead skunk.

As Shorty’s main distributer, I was one of Boulder’s most reliable sources of hydroponic weed, and though our relationship could be fraught, I felt quite blessed.

I wasn’t a kingpin.  I sold weed to feed my habit.  I needed the shit.  My pre-weed life had been spent as a nervous turd, my waking hours spend wondering what people thought of me—was I dressed okay, do people like me, will I be successful, was I cool enough, smart enough, etc.?  It’s not clear whether weed allowed me to let those things go or merely mute them.  Either way, from the ages of 16-20, years largely spent high, I was able to cope.  I was able to sleep.  I was able to relax.

Dealing pot taught me some things too.  I learned that the way to make sure things went smoothly was not to worry about them; it was to relax and lay low.  One time I got pulled over by the police on my way to Shorty’s.  I had $3K in small bills in the glove compartment where my registration was kept.  I was able to calmly move the money, give the cop my registration and get a speeding ticket rather than a felony drug charge.

Another time Shorty unloaded 4 trash bags of freshly cut weed on me.  I didn’t panic here either (much).  We just unloaded the bags from his pickup into my apartment as if it were the most natural thing.

I haven’t smoked weed in almost 12 years.  After a while, it started to amplify my insecurities rather than mute them.  Yet my years of weed-smoking taught me many things.  I learned that it’s possible to be relaxed in any situation.  I stayed cool through some tense moments with Shorty, who’s chill, iry-vibe was replaced by an angry, violent one after he got into drinking, strippers and collecting guns.  I stayed cool moving pounds of stinky weed throughout Boulder County.  I stayed cool at high school, which had previously been a den of anxiety.  I learned I could be relaxed anywhere.

I was thinking about this today because I have been consumed with future-related anxiety.  How will I make money?  Will I achieve the goals I set out for myself?  What does the future hold?  Will I ever pay that stupid health insurance bill?

Then I thought, “I did so many things that were real threats while high and didn’t worry.  Today, I deal with perceived threats and am filled with anxiety.  What gives?”

I have no desire to smoke weed, but I might ask myself how I might act high?  Would I really give a shit?  Would I really be so hot and bothered about growing up, being a responsible boyfriend, friend, citizen.  Un-fucking-likely.  This is not to promote apathy, which is often the flip-side of relaxation.  I still want to unlock my potential.  I still want to be the good guy.  I just have to realize that tension and anxiety are not the ways to get there.

Be Fearless Like Me!

Let's look at the eye of the f'ing tiger (or lion as the case might be) .

I marvel at my power.  I am an unstoppable force, crushing inner and outer obstacles with the aplomb of a samurai facing battle.  For me, fear is a foe met and conquered.  Behold some of the areas where I have mastered my fears:

Staying home alone. I do not hesitate when it comes to isolating in my apartment.  I will watch one Netflix movie after the next with unshakable placidity.  I don’t even fear watching movies I’ve seen many times before—I have seen both the Godfathers I and II at least 10 times each with the steadiest of nerves.  Nor do I fear consuming foodstuffs purchased at Trader Joe’s while watching these movies.  As unbelievable as it sounds, I can simultaneously eat tater-tots dipped in barbecue sauce while watching Lord of the Rings without a vestige of timidity.

Shutting down my emotions. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe, but I have no fear of withholding how I feel.  Whatever the situation may be, whether it’s expressing how I feel to my girlfriend, family, friends, acquaintances, strangers, I can shut down my emotions with lightening quickness.  My mastery is such that I can stuff my emotions down until I’m virtually incapacitated.  I can smother my needs, suppress how I honestly feel, even withhold my concern, with Herculean strength.

Not putting myself out for scrutiny. While many people have difficulty withholding their gifts and talents from the world, such is not my lot.  I have years of experience withholding who I am.  I have library’s worth of unread writing.  I have fearlessly dodged scrutiny and judgment innumerable times.  I know what you’re thinking:  “How do find the strength to withhold all that?  Where do you store all your undistributed gifts?”  Frankly, I don’t know sometimes.  Perhaps this fearlessness is just another one of the innate talents I keep to myself.

Surfing the web, emailing and text messaging.
This one might sound the most improbable, but it’s true.  I have nary a shred of fear wielding these electronic sabers.  I can surf the web for hours, check Facebook links, scour the news, refresh my email inbox, and rattle off pithy texts on my phone, all without churning my stomach with fear.  I suspect I could even approach a woman online if I didn’t have a girlfriend.  That’s how little fear these things cause me.

Not asking for help. I can go years without addressing a need, stewing in pain and toil, never succumbing to the urge to ask for help.  This is made more impressive when you consider that help is all around me much of the time.  I seem to have been born with an indomitable pride that precludes me surrendering to even the most dire needs.

Wasting my precious life. This feat is almost beyond belief.  I know this life is extremely fleeting.  I have had people close to me die or undergo serious health issues.  I know that this window I have here, with all physiological cylinders firing, is a very short.  And yet I appear to no little fear squandering the hours of my days, stewing in resentment, asking for shit I don’t need, looking for my ego to be stroked, not loving those around me, not helping those in need, not sharing my gifts or engaging my world.  My strength is beyond comprehension.

If you too want master your fears, I urge you to keep reading my blog.  It may not be an overnight matter, but with time, determination and assiduous devotion to my instructions, you too can live as fearlessly as I do.

Dames and Dumbfucks

Everything's cool man.

I shan’t mince words.  I’m a liar.  And exactly 2 years ago, my lies created a life where I felt like someone was pressing the butt of a broom handle into my chest all my waking hours.  I was in a relationship and living with a great girl.  She was cute, generous, worldly, punctual, committed.  But she was in a relationship with a liar (me) and we were fucked from the beginning.

The first lie was the most basic one:  I thought that she was, or someday would be, someone other than who she was.  I saw red-flags from our very first meeting.  I rationalized them away to perpetuate the idea of the relationship—something I wanted to believe in.  But rationalizations are not solid building materials for relationships.

The trouble, in short, was we had nothing in common.  Our politics, spiritual views, tastes, communication styles were often diametrically opposed.  I joked about these things at first, but as time elapsed and our incompatibility became more glaring, the humor evaporated.  These issues would come out in fights and feeble attempts at communicating, but I knew, underneath my ideas and rationalizations, the relationship was DOA.

One night in February 2009, we got into a fight.  It was the same fight.  She accused me of not wanting to spend time with her.  She was right.

I would typically cauterize the fight with lies that I wanted to believe were true, but knew were not.  This night, I couldn’t do it.  I knew this fight would go on as long as we were in a relationship.  I knew things would not get better.  I knew she was who she was and I was who I was and given that, we had to break up.

So I told the truth and was promptly asked to move out (it was her apartment so there was no question about who would leave).  She went for a walk and I stuffed as many of my things in a large duffle as I could.  It was a Tuesday night at midnight.  I was a bum, but one with a modicum of integrity. Continue reading “Dames and Dumbfucks”