Dilemma: A good boyfriend who hates traffic and dislikes too many people in a concentrated area. ie Is destined to part and stay in South Carolina. A non-categorizable woman, transplanted to Los Angeles where the dating life takes her for a spin. One that leaves her dry, empty, bored and questioning her sexuality. No. Not whether she's a lesbian. More like whether she's even visible as a woman. At first it was easy. Quick. He showed up in less than 2 months of her moving to Venice, CA. A commercial editor, young and charming. Flirty and shortly claiming he's falling in love. That lasted 8 months. The dry spell began.
To fill the dusty landscape with mirages of water was a mirage in the form of a man. He was tall, tattooed along sexy forearms, smart and oozing vibes of "take me into that forbidden room" and let's DO THINGS. Never happened. Married. Oh. Lessoned learned. Nothing did happen. Relief. Sort of.
Too many delayed nights leaving work, turned to transfixing Whole Foods into a bar of wishful thinking and dreams of connecting to someone as sophisticated mixed with easy wear as the engaged couples wandering the store purchasing their wine and prosciutto wrapped dates. Spending too much for food, gluten free pizza, sure. The lonely walk from the light to the darkened interior of my car knowing that "just me" is heading back to my single space apartment in "the big city." I guess learning to knit while listening to mediation music is not sad when you're in your Jesus Year, never married?
Meeting LA Boyfriend, Number 2, a year and a half after LA boyfriend Number 1, triggers underlying wonderings of worth, attractiveness, and straight out, "Is there something wrong with me?" However, much is quickly forgotten when a young, freshly 28 years old, 6 foot 3 dark haired, sweet lipped man is fascinated by your Southern twang and curvy hips. Chemistry propels one out of dark internal ponderings of self-worth. Not much lasting value, however.
Two months of no communicating is adequate time-off from needing to share every blip of thought passing in a day with LA Boyfriend Number 2. Then with a secure sense of independence and out of love, looking for someone Marriage Marriage material I was sure that I did not want to "try again." Low and behold, following a profound spiritual experience with an Indian guru known as The Hugging Saint, all I wanted to do was rush over to LA Boyfriend Number 2's apartment, throw my arms around him and kiss him as if he had changed and done all the work on himself he'd been promising the last few months of being "friends."
I was assured through a dear friend, that after my spiritual experience I was just in love with everyone and to not act on it with Ex. I was able to maintain that for limited time only. Back to LA Boyfriend Number2 I went. Following our last night together where we lay awkwardly exposed in the realization that nothing had changed and distance was the closest thing between us, I wrote a poem called, Perineal Flowers, blooming every Spring and dying every Autumn.
Major surgery followed that break-up, in the literal sense, and the dryest of the dry spells began. Online dating was suggested by loved ones, including a Mother who recently remarried from an online match testifying to the success of such endeavors. In a previous spell, I'd tried it. First, Match.com followed by Plenty of Fish and Chemistry.com.
Initially, it's exciting. Before long it's terrifyingly tedious, like applying for a job. Is LOVE or relationship supposed to be so inauthentically synthetically generated? It's like the genetically modified version of dating. Yuck. Give me the home-grown on the vine tomato LOVE, please.
I'm trying to recount if I've even been asked out on a date in the last year? I'm going to say the answer is No. That's the back-story. The answer is No. If I've ever questioned my sanity before, well, girlfriend, I'm questioning it now.
Here's what I've tried: Online dating, holding eye contact and smiling, not being the first to say hello (though terrible at this one), standing tall, wearing heels, buying and wearing skirts/dresses, asking the man "What do you think?" while I say what I "feel" via the Pat Allen method of "Getting to I Do." I've read her book. I've turned my attention to activities I enjoy such as running, spending time with friends, writing my novel, attending Artist Way workshops, going to the beach with friends, hanging with guy friends and getting out more. I've had crushes on unemotionally available men. I've tried flirting with people at work. I've tried flirting. Period. I've tried giving up. I've tried daydreaming. I've written lists as to the Ideal Partner. I've cried. I've sobbed. I've been in despair. I've felt unwanted in the deepest, loneliest way. I've been jealous and ashamed. I've considered turning my life over to God and living in a convent or some kind of holy compound.
And fight as I might to rid myself of this plague of my longing, I have a dedicated hope for someone attractive and roundedly available to reflect back to me one thing: Interest. In leu of all this, how does one proceed?
Suggestion:
"Want a suggestion?" asks my spiritual mentor. "Okay," I say sighing thinking that nothing else is possible to help me in this area of my life, yet, I'm giving up to the point that I'll listen. "Start taking yourself out on a date once a week," he says. I suck in air, muted by the idea of putting this suggestion in motion so much that he asks where I went. My mind starts trying to figure out the WHEN and the WHAT of such an idea.
He outlines a program of action for me:
1. Plan the date and time in advance
2. Stick to it, as if it was a real date and I had committed to another person
3. Plan to get dressed for my date, including something that looks good. Put on make up, fix my hair, etc.
4. Do this once a week
Inside I'm moaning, "Ugh..." He asks me if I think I can do it. I tell him I'll try, but I'm doubting it. For weeks, I can't do it. The reason for my hesitation? Resistance.
Resistance:
Interestingly, resistance is strongly present. It was present before I started going on Self dates. It is present after I went on a few successful Self dates. What is this resistance? In another conversation with my mentor, after I've brought up the romance problem in my life, the one area of my life that seems to be empty/blank/void, he suggested that I try going on Self dates again. Once a week.
I had given Self dating a try at the end of July and early August. I had success. Then I stopped. I met the love of my life, a married man where nothing happened or was anywhere near inappropriate, but meeting him shifted that need in me. He made me feel that somebody would show up and that there wasn't anything I needed to "do" any longer. I just needed to "be me" and enjoy being me as much as I could.
I was enjoying being me as much as I could, and still am, except for the occasional moments like when I'm leaving yoga class and feel amazing and open and know that I won't be sharing my openness with anyone. Or there's the moment when it's just before Christmas and I receive cards from friends with pictures of their husbands and themselves with big smiles on their faces and loving children in their arms. There's also the moment, when I'm at work and there's a sexy guy whom I'd like to get to know, he seems funny and charmed by me but nothing happens. He makes no indication that he'd like to see me outside of the brief passing in the halls. Those are the moments when I realize I'm missing something I want. I'm missing the companionship, the sharing of Self, the human touch that is so integral to health and a sense of well-being. There are so many moments, actually, where it's apparent to me that a partner would be wonderful and that I miss having one.
So, when I mention my longing to my spiritual mentor, and he suggests I start by taking myself on dates once a week, and I don't jump at the idea, he wonders out loud what my resistance is. I do, too. "What are you willing to do to get a boyfriend?" is one of his direct questions. My immediate reaction is, "Not much," quite honestly. I realize that I find it inconvenient to make an effort to meet someone. Then he asks me, "How important is this for you?" I start to think about it and realize, too, that I'm not sure it is that important to me.
The resistance about going on Self Dates isn't because I don't want to spend time by myself or that I'm afraid to sit in a movie theater or restaurant by myself. I'm not. Yes, I spend enough time by myself that I'd prefer to be with friends but that isn't it. It comes down to the fact that my life is full of people and activities I enjoy. I enjoy the friends, men and women, in my life to such an extent I feel filled by the laughter and support we share. I enjoy the activities I'm committed to, such as my spiritual development, yoga for exercise and the writing of my novel. I love the time I have to go where I want when I want. I rarely have to consider another person for any decision I make concerning my home and my time. I don't have to do the dishes until I want. I don't have to remember to flush the toilet, if I don't. I don't have to ask someone what they'd like to do for dinner or what show they'd like to watch on TV. I share myself with people when it's convenient for me and never when it's not.
Participants:
Date One:
Date Two:
Copyright by Rachel Drews, 2011. All rights reserved. Any excerpts reproduced from this article should include links to the original.
No comments:
Post a Comment