You know how some espoused people, when asked, “How did you know he/she was the right one?” answer, “I just knew”?
What does that MEAN? What are they (you?) referring to? And should single people be holding for it - whatever it is?
Or is it just a completely bogus statement, fabricated to assuage the general relationship-befuddlement that seems to expand and swell the further we get from college?
I’m curious.
If I were a nun, I’d be so happy
And sad.
Hearken back to Monday’s post. What was meant to be a shoulder shrug, a lark, a lighthearted jab at my pal Andy, actually sparked quite the response. While I got a lot of “You go, girl!” comments from women, I have been much more impacted by what I have heard from the men – whether in comment, email, or response via their own blog post. And while there is no way that I will be able to say everything that there is to say today (yeah, or ever), here is what has been rattling around in my brain this week.
If there is anything that I want to be, it is humble – humble, and teachable. So THANK YOU to the brave dudes (especially Joey - the catalyst for many of these thoughts today) who had the guts – spine – balls – to challenge my thinking.
Which brings me to my first point: it was wrong of me to emasculate men – denying them of the very thing that makes them male (um… balls… sheesh, I can’t wait to see what keywords bring people to this post) – for not being able to communicate in the way that most women would like them to. I am not a man-hater – I LOVE men! – and in no way desire to make eunuchs out of a bunch of surely well-meaning guys. I’m sorry for sounding – snip, snip – harsh and judgmental.
Here’s the deal: in an ideal world, men would communicate clearly. In an ideal world, women would communicate clearly. In an ideal world, both sexes would have eyes to see and ears to hear the other person loud and clear.
That is obviously not the world that we live in – due to culture and socialization and upbringing and experiences. So things get a little bit muddy, a little bit complicated, and sometimes, a little bit… hostile. Men aren’t up front with their feelings. Women send mixed signals – a “come hither” straight into a stiff arm. One person doesn’t know who he is, the other doesn’t know what she wants – or vice versa. Television only adds to the confusion, portraying men as bumbling idiots, and women as capable-yet-snarky ice queens (think “Everybody Loves Raymond,” or “Home Improvement”).
Who are we? Who should we be? Men and women alike are confuzzled.
I so wish that was a real word.
When it comes to love, we’ve all been hurt. We’ve all been disappointed. We’ve all got skeletons in the closet, and wounds that haven’t quite healed. And for as much as we want them, it’s easy to make the opposite sex into the “enemy.” I have my own stories – things that have happened that have made me a bit gun-shy when it comes to putting myself out there – and when I think of these disgraces, even years later, I still want to bury my head in the sand.
I think it’s safe to say that on a very fundamental level, women want to feel “worth it” to a guy – worth the risk, worth whatever it takes. But hello – this is 2009. A man can’t exactly prove his devotion by riding into battle with her hanky in his pocket. So some of us feel like the least he could do is say, “Hey, you seem great. I’d love to take you out sometime?”
Then again, the feminist movement sort of threw a wrench in that plan. We women-folk sure asserted our independence, didn’t we? Dang it. We’ve stabbed ourselves in the back. But that’s another post entirely…
Bottom line: I am backing off from the stance I took on Monday, however playfully I meant it when I first wrote it. I don’t expect for a guy to take the reins, run the show, ask me out, sweep me off my feet, order me the lamb chop at some swanky restaurant while I sit mute and adoring. Can you imagine? Me? Being conquered? I do hope for a partnership, with honest and frank communication, equal parts respect and affection – and prior to a relationship, I think that means that both parties are going to need to communicate our interest in whatever way makes sense.
Sigh. This just zapped every ounce of brain power I possess.
We all just want to matter to someone.
I wish it was easy. And I hope that one day, it will be.
The way I see it,
1) If a guy is interested in me, he should have the guts – spine – balls – to do something about it.
2) If he is interested in me and does NOT have the guts – spine – balls – to do something about it, then he’s not really someone I want to be with anyway.
3) If he is not interested in me, he is not asking me out.
In any case, I leave it up to him. It’s as simple as that.
(Andy Merrick, you know I love you – you and your many, many words on the subject. Are you ever going to finish your series, slacker?)
All the single ladies
My pal Andy Merrick just posted the beginning of a 3-part series entitled “Why Guys Aren’t Asking You Out.” Andy is one of my favorite people to read, and this first installment had me laughing out loud. In fact, I was still in bed this morning, barely awake, reading until I giggled – at which point Julie yelled up the stairs (remember, I have no bedroom door), “Annie! Are you crying??”
Hey. A totally fair question.
I am excited to hear more of his thoughts in the coming days – and to read any comments you may have on the subject. Let Andy know what you think…
Lit at work
All of the lights in our gigantic, sprawling office space are operated by motion sensors – as long as there is movement in the room, the lights stay on. Because of this, when walking from room to room to set up for lunches or fetch cups of coffee for visitors, I feel as powerful as God: LET THERE BE LIGHT… and there was light.
However, this feature is significantly less cool when I have been sitting completely and utterly motionless at my desk for so long that the lobby lights just… go out. And then, even MORE significantly less cool when I, the Temptress, sitting in my T.J. Maxx version of “business professional” in the darkness of the silent room, frantically wave my arms above my head.
Let there be light, indeed.
And as a final FYI…
When I sneeze, the crystal vase on the desk rings. It is legit.
This is a risky topic. It makes me want to throw up just thinking of you all reading about this subject in association with my name – especially since now you can probably google “is Annie Parsons on eHarmony?” Nevertheless, I want to talk about internet dating.
Not necessarily FOR ME. Just IN GENERAL.
Thoughts? Comments? Good idea? Bad idea? Worthwhile? Desperate? Genius?
And JUST FOR THE RECORD, I am not thinking about signing up, so don’t go looking for my profile on Match.com – although, let’s be honest, I could probably throw together a riveting profile [*rolleyes*, for all of you literalists out there]. I’m just curious to know what you, my esteemed readers, think of the concept. I’m intrigued by your thoughts, in the same way I might be if I asked about, say, the best way to barbecue a pork chop. Not something I’m looking to do anytime in the foreseeable future, but who knows, WHAT ABOUT SOMEDAY?
So. Opinions?
By the way, I have it on good authority – mine – that I have some of the coolest, smartest, most date-worthy blog readers in the land, so just think: your thoughts and comments could help contribute to what might become the internet’s PREMIER source of wisdom about internet dating (i.e. the comment section of this blog entry). Together, we can change the world… wide web.
Lately, I have been made acutely aware of a certain discord in romantic relationships between people of my generation. Now, I am not currently dating anyone. However, these observations have come from my own experiences as well as those around me – I’m not pointing the finger at any one person, or any one gender, for that matter. I’m just going to share my thoughts, simple as they may be.
If you’re feeling particularly sensitive today, maybe you should take some deep breaths before reading this. Are you ready? Consider yourself warned.
I have noticed that most humans are looking for fulfillment. In my experience, women generally look for that fulfillment in the context of relationship, while men generally look for that fulfillment in the context of autonomy.
I said generally. Stop bristling.
So when men and women interact, and coexist, and begin to let their guard down with each other, generally a conflict rises out of the tension between what they are each looking toward for fulfillment: the woman tends to look to the man, while the man tends to look away. The woman asks, “Do you love me? Do you think I’m beautiful? Am I worth it to you?” And the man says, “I can’t be responsible for you. I’m not ready to commit. I need to be free.”
The man sees the woman as needy. The woman sees the man as an asshole.
I propose that we need to stop looking toward the wrong things for fulfillment in the context of romantic relationships. Women need to stop expecting the man to fulfill her. Men need to stop looking toward independence to fulfill him.
Again. GENERALLY.
Women, we need to stop asking the hubba-hubba man to dictate our worth. If the God of the universe created us, and knows us inside and out, and calls us worthy and beautiful and captivating, then honestly, what else do we need? A man is just a man. He’s never going to be enough to fulfill us – it’s unfair to expect that of him. And a man’s opinion of us – favorable or otherwise – happens to have absolutely no bearing on our worth. So maybe we should just start trusting that our worth is already determined, and nothing can ever change that. Let’s rest in the fact that we are LOVED, and move forward into our relationships with confidence. We’ve been watching too much of “The Notebook.”
And men, maybe it’s time that you stop looking toward experiences and autonomy and wild adventures to fulfill that hole inside. Being in a healthy relationship with a good woman will not be an emasculating thing – in fact, some of the most honorable men I know have told me that their marriages have been the biggest and best adventure that one could possibly embark on. That restless ache inside of you is not going to be fulfilled by freedom or the mountains or the ability to sow your oats or a lack of responsibility. That hole is only filled when we ask God, “Who do you say I am?” I have watched too many men turn their back on good, substantial women, for fear of being “tied down.”
What do I know? Am I hypocritical? I’m just a 25-year old single girl who, trust me, does NOT believe these things easily. I want a man to come and sweep me off my feet and tell me that I am beautiful and that he will never, ever leave me. I really want that – and I have asked for it and expected it. But as a result, I have been severely disappointed and deeply hurt by numerous guys. It has felt unfair. It has left me tempted to launch into bitter diatribes at weddings, and bridal showers, and every time I get another freaking Save-the-Date card in the mail. I am definitely a person in process.
But I invite you to be a person in process alongside me. Because the way that it’s going isn’t working.
I wear a red coat. I wear red shoes. I carry a big red leather bag. I sport red lips, and sometimes, red fingernails. I’m Annie Parsons; it’s just what I do.
Admittedly, I’m a bit behind the times. But I have finally taken the time to read the #1 New York Times Best-Seller He’s Just Not That Into You. And yes, I have some thoughts to share.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the book, I can only assume that you are happily wedded, or you don’t pay attention to pop culture. Either way, good for you! As for the rest of us, “He’s just not that into you” has become an annoying catch phrase, and in some extreme cases, a mantra.
Basically, ladies, the book says this: not all guys are going to fall in love with you. And that’s okay.
I repeat: that’s okay.
I, for one, tend to wish that every guy in the world thought that I was the best thing since steak, and consequentially composed sonnets in my honor, and called me every day just to tell me how great I am, and rubbed my shoulders without having to be asked. I wish that every man thought of me as his ideal woman, and bought me extravagant gifts to prove his devotion. I dream of the day when I am revered above video games (and I am beginning to think, “Dream on”). I sincerely want to believe that I am attractive enough to allure any man on the face of the earth into thinking that I am worth whatever it takes.
But that’s just not the way that this world spins. Sometimes, he’s just not going to be that into me. And that’s okay. It’s actually quite liberating to realize, “I shouldn’t have to do or be anything in order to convince a guy to fall in love with me.” I deserve someone who truly wants me, and simply for being me.
Yeah, girl power!
I’ve talked to several guys about this book, and they immediately bristle, somehow thinking that this is a male-bashing book. But guys! This book actually works in your favor! Just think: if all girls stopped wasting their time with the losers, desperately trying to make them realize how great they are, then they’re freed up to hook up. With YOU – a great guy who is ready to really love, and treat her the way that she should be treated. See?
And so, I am through trying to manipulate situations into my favor. I am finished trying to make myself into someone that I am not. I’m done searching.
I will not settle for a man who doesn’t think I’m fantastic.
I will not settle for a man who keeps me waiting by the phone.
I will not settle for a man who isn’t sure that he wants to date me.
I will not settle for a man who is not clearly kind, and mature, and loving.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask. And if it is, then you know what? I’d rather be happy and single than with the wrong person.
In the meantime, I’m just going to busy myself being the best Annie that I can be, so I will hopefully be worthy of a great guy when he presents himself.
This concludes the after-school-special of a blog.
Dear Men of Seattle,
I have spent 7 years in our fair city, and I am the first to admit that throughout this time, I have had high hopes that one of you might wind up being “The One.” When I am honest with myself, what I really, ultimately dream of in life is to marry a good man and have a family and LOVE. I have “dated” a few of you, and “spent time” with many, always with an observant eye. I hoped that a couple of you might take; however, over time, every last one of you has, for one reason or another, been ripped away like a giant cosmic Band-Aid.
It’s okay. I have learned valuable lessons from you. For example:
* A man who makes good guacamole is hard to find.
* The speed limit on Lake Union is 7 knots. And the boat police are vigilant.
* The most unromantic birthday gift in the universe is an iron and a tube of wood glue.
* Whiskey can lead to regrettable text messages.
* Nachos and beer can be just as good as lobster and wine, depending on the company.
* Following a first kiss, the suitable response is never, “Well, I can check that off my to-do list.”
* After a Seahawks loss, the minimum recovery time is 36 hours.
* Insecurity results in crazy, inexcusable behavior (this one is directed solely at myself).
* It is possible to be truly, genuinely excited for a newly affianced ex-boyfriend.
* The unexpected resurfacing of a hometown boy can do a heart much good.
* Dramamine: better safe than sorry.
* Ex-boyfriends always get new girlfriends.
* Sometimes, a kiss is the best option. And sometimes… it’s not.
* Sometimes, honesty is the best policy. And sometimes… it isn’t.
* Sometimes, I can be friends with an ex. And sometimes… I can’t.
* I am not always right.
* But I usually am.
And most importantly, I have learned:
* I am capable of great big love.
I’ll admit it: I am a romantic. And even though I have not found the right one yet, I am hopeful you are out there somewhere. But for now, as of Monday, I am leaving this city that I have come to call “home” in order to do something else for awhile.
Perhaps we will meet in Seattle again. Until then, all the best to you. Thanks for the good times and for the bad, for I am grateful for anything that helps my spirit grow.
Peace out,
Annie
