In 2002, the Travis County mental health system provided a psychiatric resident as a therapist for me. She was a young, very attractive woman from the Indian subcontinent. The typical scenario I would have with such a therapist would involve me seeing them for a year, often less. These residents needed to build up their resume, so they would volunteer themselves as therapists for clients of the county mental health system such as myself.
One day I talked about how I had an interest in dating women. I was a dateless wonder, as usual, but my approach to how I wanted to go about all of the dating stuff was beginning to take shape. I told this therapist that I did not want a relationship at that particular time. She upbraided me. The gist of her argument would have had me vie for a relationship at all times, no matter what. I guess she asked me why I wasn't interested in a relationship, and I said something about how I didn't want to get dumped. She said, "I got dumped recently. It's not a big deal!" After our session, and in the years that followed, it became apparent that I knew what I was doing out on the dating scene a lot more than she did. All I said was that I wasn't ready for a relationship, and somehow that was taboo.
At that time, I was just beginning to put into words the reasons WHY I didn't want a relationship at that time. She was gone pretty soon after that, but if I had a chance to articulate my position, it would have gone like this. I want to compile a history with women where I don't get hurt. I want a variety of dating experiences with a variety of women, all in service of compiling a history with women where I don't get hurt.
This, of course was in response to so much of my history with women up to that point, where I repeatedly vied for a serious, committed relationship with many, many women, and I would up crashing and burning nearly every time. I won't get into how little I actually wound up getting involved with the object of my desire in so many of these situations, but that was a big part of the problem too.
Well, I have compiled a meaningful history with women since 2002 where, for the most part, I did not get hurt, by anyone's standards, probably, not just my own. I don't see therapists very much, because I lost confidence in them as a resource a long time ago. I use support groups almost exclusively these days.
Examples of compiling a history with women where I don't get hurt include, recently, that barista at that coffee shop I talked about in my last post, that former cashier I also mentioned in my last post as well, and Schmaylor Schmift. Yes, that's right, I include Schmaylor Schmift as well. All post-2002, not one of these experiences were experiences where I got hurt. Again, by anyone's standards, not just my own.
I can best contrast my mindset and approach to that song by Bette Midler, "The Rose." I have a Conway Twitty version in my library, so I know it well. "The Rose" goes on and on about how one needs to always risk it all in order to find love. That may be fine for some people, but I realized something interesting about that kind of thinking a long time ago. If one keeps throwing themselves body and soul into "getting" love, and in so doing gets hurt, bad, over and over and over again, what counts as courage after so many of those experiences, assuming one survives those experiences in anything resembling one piece? Does repeatedly engaging in the same behaviors that seemed to bring about those same bad outcomes still make one a courageous seeker of love, or just some kind of fool?
I think I've found out these past twenty-plus years, that having a more cautious, circumspect frame of mind counts as a more courageous way to go through life than just dong the some old thing over and over again, to a what end I don't even know.. When that former cashier appeared as a customer three months ago at my job, I challenged myself with the question, "What would happen if I just blow this person off?" And so I did. That road-less-traveled stuff is exactly the kind of thing I employ repeatedly these days, and I personally find the frame of mind that questions every assumption I once held a much more sustainable frame of mind than the heartache, to heartbreak, to madness road to personal ruin that songs like "The Rose" seem to advocate for.
One day I talked about how I had an interest in dating women. I was a dateless wonder, as usual, but my approach to how I wanted to go about all of the dating stuff was beginning to take shape. I told this therapist that I did not want a relationship at that particular time. She upbraided me. The gist of her argument would have had me vie for a relationship at all times, no matter what. I guess she asked me why I wasn't interested in a relationship, and I said something about how I didn't want to get dumped. She said, "I got dumped recently. It's not a big deal!" After our session, and in the years that followed, it became apparent that I knew what I was doing out on the dating scene a lot more than she did. All I said was that I wasn't ready for a relationship, and somehow that was taboo.
At that time, I was just beginning to put into words the reasons WHY I didn't want a relationship at that time. She was gone pretty soon after that, but if I had a chance to articulate my position, it would have gone like this. I want to compile a history with women where I don't get hurt. I want a variety of dating experiences with a variety of women, all in service of compiling a history with women where I don't get hurt.
This, of course was in response to so much of my history with women up to that point, where I repeatedly vied for a serious, committed relationship with many, many women, and I would up crashing and burning nearly every time. I won't get into how little I actually wound up getting involved with the object of my desire in so many of these situations, but that was a big part of the problem too.
Well, I have compiled a meaningful history with women since 2002 where, for the most part, I did not get hurt, by anyone's standards, probably, not just my own. I don't see therapists very much, because I lost confidence in them as a resource a long time ago. I use support groups almost exclusively these days.
Examples of compiling a history with women where I don't get hurt include, recently, that barista at that coffee shop I talked about in my last post, that former cashier I also mentioned in my last post as well, and Schmaylor Schmift. Yes, that's right, I include Schmaylor Schmift as well. All post-2002, not one of these experiences were experiences where I got hurt. Again, by anyone's standards, not just my own.
I can best contrast my mindset and approach to that song by Bette Midler, "The Rose." I have a Conway Twitty version in my library, so I know it well. "The Rose" goes on and on about how one needs to always risk it all in order to find love. That may be fine for some people, but I realized something interesting about that kind of thinking a long time ago. If one keeps throwing themselves body and soul into "getting" love, and in so doing gets hurt, bad, over and over and over again, what counts as courage after so many of those experiences, assuming one survives those experiences in anything resembling one piece? Does repeatedly engaging in the same behaviors that seemed to bring about those same bad outcomes still make one a courageous seeker of love, or just some kind of fool?
I think I've found out these past twenty-plus years, that having a more cautious, circumspect frame of mind counts as a more courageous way to go through life than just dong the some old thing over and over again, to a what end I don't even know.. When that former cashier appeared as a customer three months ago at my job, I challenged myself with the question, "What would happen if I just blow this person off?" And so I did. That road-less-traveled stuff is exactly the kind of thing I employ repeatedly these days, and I personally find the frame of mind that questions every assumption I once held a much more sustainable frame of mind than the heartache, to heartbreak, to madness road to personal ruin that songs like "The Rose" seem to advocate for.
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