Romance and the Single Woman

Sometimes I honestly believe that there are no good women left in the world. I know that this isn’t true, and this isn’t a boohoo, woe is me, I’ll never find a wife kind of post.  I’m completely aware that sometimes this feeling has everything to do with me. However, I spent tonight with a bunch of college students (the vast majority of them female) watching a bollywood romance movie (I think I’ve had nightmares about this scenario). The movie was… not great. The female lead was clearly narcissistic and quite possibly a sociopath.

This womn was obsessed with ‘adventure’, by which she meant the adrenaline rush she got from lying, cheating, stealing, and generally ruining other peoples lives. The story opens with her father forcing her to marry against her will. Her answer to this problem? Take advantage of a hard-working man whom her father had cheated by forcing him to kidnap her at gun point (even though she was actually the one holding the gun) and demand an outrageous ransom. She forces/convinces him to steal for her, help her con an innocent gas station attendant out of 10,000 rupies (I think its rupies at least), break into a strangers house and set it up as their home base, and by half-way through the movie this poor man is madly in love with her… this is clearly stockholm syndrome. So, as it turns out, this man’s father is the premier kidnapper in northern India and he has both of them kidnapped to bring his son home. His son, the hard-working man, originally left home because he wanted nothing to do with his father’s business of kidnapping people. He wanted to live an honest life, which this woman has now ruined. She, however, gets along great with his family (half cheats and half decent folks… maybe) and insinuates herself into the fold, even convincing his father to raise the ransom he is demanding for her to a point that will leave her own family impoverished. When her father finally does show up with his daughter (because, what do you know, he actually loves her… can’t figure out why), the kidnapper’s family wants her to stay. The kidnapper, however, leaves the choice up to his son. He, of course, tells her to go home with her father because he wants her to be safe and happy! Of course, this will never happen with a family of thieves and kidnappers, and so she leaves in a huff, deciding that she hates him. The movie does manage to salvage a half-way decent (though non-sensical) ending with the kidnapper’s family mending their ways and the hard-working man winning her back (though why I still can’t figure out). However, it’s a movie so, what do you really expect.

My biggest problem though was not with the movie, but with the women who were watching the movie. The women who found the woman’s clearly horrific actions to be cute, endearing, and romantic. The women who saw every reason for this poor young man to fall in love. The women who were furious with the hard-working man for acting in her best interest even though it hurt him (I believe I heard one woman shout ‘I’ll punch him!’). Honestly, the woman in this movie was the kind of woman that any sensible man should run from, far and fast. She was Emma from Madame Bovary or Scarlett from Gone with the Wind. She was a selfish, childish woman with no moral compass, and no care for others, who wanted a man who would simultaneously be her slave and a dangerous bad guy. In short, she was the farthest thing from romantic, and certainly not a woman that anyone should attempt to emulate.

So, this left me ultimately frustrated. A frustration which I now vent here. Tonight has not been good for my hopes of finding a quality woman somewhere out in the world. Still, as I said at the beginning, I do know a few women of high quality, so at least they do exist.

The Importance of Dreams

A couple of years ago I had a dream. Yes, I’m going to tell you about my dream, but first I’m going to tell you why that dream was important. Most of us don’t remember our dreams, some of us don’t remember that we did dream. I generally fall into the latter category. Most mornings I wake up assuming that I didn’t have any dreams the night before (even though I probably did), and even when I do wake up in the middle of a dream, within five minutes I can’t actually remember what the dream was about. However, the particular dream that I’m thinking of I can still remember specific details two years later. When I awoke from this dream, I was completely confident that it was important, and I knew what some of the aspects of the dream symbolized. It was the kind of dream that you pay attention to.

So, what was my dream? Well, to start off, it was extremely nerdy. In the dream I was a student at a school for wizards (not like Hogwarts, more like one of the Arcane Academies in Tethyr from the  Forgotten Realms D&D setting… except, you know… not evil…). Anyway, I was a student studying in this academy and I was doing well, but one day I decided to leave the school to explore the world. I wanted to see the town nearby, to visit the fighter’s guild, and to practice what I’d learned. So, I left the academy, which appeared as a huge tower sandwiched between a small lake and a swampy plain, and went to the town. I explored for a while, and then returned to the academy, but I couldn’t find it. The tower had disappeared and in it’s place was a small stone slab with writing on it that I couldn’t read. I was confused, hurt, and frustrated, and I did everything I could think of, but nothing made the tower reappear. Denied access to the place I was supposed to be, I returned to the town and joined the fighter’s guild for wont of a better option.

At this point the dream jumps forward an indeterminate amount of time. I knew that I’ve been in the fighters guild for sometime, but I wasn’t sure how long. I found myself in a party at the fighter’s guild, but I wasn’t particularly enjoying the party. I was bored, lonely, and I didn’t particularly want to talk to anyone, so I left the brightly lit guild building (I remember that it had large doors set in a massive wooden doorframe. The frame itself was wider than my hand. In the courtyard there was a fountain depicting some ancient hero of the guild, and on the fountain sat a beautiful woman. She was obviously a member of the guild, but I’d never met her before. I sat down and started a conversation with the woman, and though I’ve never been able to remember what we talked about, we fell in love. I told the woman about my time in the wizard school, and I wanted to show her the spot where it had disappeared. So, I took her by the hand and led her to the stone slab with the writing I couldn’t read, but she could read it (though I couldn’t understand what she said), and when she did the tower reappeared and we went in. I found myself back where I belonged with a beautiful woman whom I loved, and that’s where the dream ended.

When I first awoke from the dream I knew that the wizard’s school symbolized grad school. I believed at the time, and see no reason not to think, that the beautiful woman represented a romantic relationship, and I think that the fighter’s guild represents life in general. Honestly, I had almost forgotten about this dream (it has been a matter of years, not days), but I’ve recently started talking to a young woman on eHarmony who is not only awesome, but also related to one of the deans at a school that I would very much like to attend. Honestly, I don’t know if this is likely to go anywhere. It’s entirely possible that nothing will happen, but emailing with her brought this dream back to the forefront of my mind.

Fear of Girls

If you haven’t ever seen Fear of Girls you should look it up on youtube. All three videos are hilarious, and they get progressively less disturbing, which is definitely a good thing. That being said, I find myself in this place right now. Karategirl is back in the picture. If you don’t remember, about five or six months ago there was a woman who’d joined the karate school that I help teach at. She’s a lovely woman who I found myself attracted to right off the bat. I asked a friend at the school to introduce us, and asked her out, and she promptly turned me down. Admittedly, she turned me down because, in her own words she ‘wasn’t dating right now’, which I’ve been given no reason to doubt in the past five months. I’ve tried to get to know her, and generally failed. We’ve had a number of superficial discussions that ended very quickly. However, a few days ago I messaged her on facebook (there was a good reason… I’m not going to share it) and we had a very good conversation. I think this was mostly just because she was hurting at the time and wanted someone to talk to, but I honestly felt like it was the first conversation that I’d had with the actual Karategirl, instead of with the mask that she wears, and I rather liked what I saw.

So, I’m planning on asking her out again the next time I see her (probably sometime end of this week or next week). However, I’m a little bit terrified. Am I scared that she’ll turn me down again? Well, this is certainly a possibility. Honestly, I think it might be a probability. However, it’s not something I’m particularly scared of. I’ve been shot down plenty of times. It’s no fun, but it’s not really a big deal either. If she turns me down then I’ll wait a while, try to get to know her a little better, and then try again.

Honestly, what I’m really afraid of is that I’m making the same mistake again. I’m afraid that she won’t turn me down, that she’ll say yes, go out with me, really enjoy the way I treat her, but in a month or three decide that I’m a great guy, but not really what she’s looking for. It’s been about a year since Peaches (yes there’s a reason for the name… no, I never called her that… shutup) decided that I just wasn’t right for her. In her words I was ‘everything she was looking for’, but she was too scared to do anything about it. Admittedly, Peaches was not the right girl for me. Still, it’s been a pattern with me for a long time, and I’m scared that I’m just repeating that pattern. The thing is, I think that I’d be scared of repeating the pattern no matter who the woman was. Peaches was 19 and going through some serious emotional trauma. She wasn’t ready for a relationship, and probably didn’t need me pushing for one. If I’d been a better man I would have been her friend and dated someone else. Instead, I fell for her and waited for her to be ready, even though I said I wouldn’t. She never was.

Karategirl is not 19, and to my knowledge has not had any significant relationship traumas. She has some problems, yes (we all do), but they don’t seem to have anything to do with romance or dating. I also know that she’s been single and apparently healthy for at least five+ months, which is definitely a good thing (well… from my perspective at least). Nonetheless, I’m utterly and completely terrified. I’m terrified that I’m being an idiot. I’m terrified that I’m going to make the same mistakes over again no matter what I do. I’m scared that I’m going to get hurt again in the same way. I’m scare that I haven’t grown at all, haven’t changed at all… I guess I’m scared that the past year has been wasted, and that I’m about to prove that.

Ultimately, Karategirl is not Peaches. I am fully cognizant of that fact. However, I need to not be the same person that I was a year ago for anything to happen, and I think I’m afraid that’s the problem.

Honestly… I just hope that she winds up being the woman that will find a reason to be with me, instead of finding a reason to walk away.

Attraction

Sometimes I wonder if I’m too superficial. Yesterday I had a date with a wonderful woman. We talked for a good two and a half hours, we both seemed to thoroughly enjoy the conversation. She’s interesting, kind, and intelligent. She also seems to enjoy spending time with me. The problem? I’m not physically attracted to her at all. She’s a very pretty woman, but she’s just ‘not my type’ physically. So, no I’m sitting here wondering if I should perhaps try to pursue something with her and hope that somehow changes, even though I know that’s a bad idea and will probably end in pain.

I say that sometimes I wonder if I’m too superficial, but honestly, I don’t think I am. I don’t judge a person on their appearance, and I’m not just looking for physical attraction in a relationship. However, I am looking for physical attraction as a part of a relationship. So, I’m left with the feeling that my wondering if I’m too superficial is really just a tactic to delay an unpleasant conversation that I know I need to have. At the same time, it does bring up an honest question: are my standards of beauty too high?

Objectively, at a guess, I think that if an average woman were to rate my physical attractiveness on a scale from 1-10 I would probably be a 5 or 6. I might rate a 7 on a good day with the right woman, but probably not an ‘average woman’ (of course the use of the term ‘average woman’ here is probably ludicrous. I’m not sure that such a creature actually exists). However, I don’t think I’ve ever dated a woman that would be rated less than a 7, and I’ve dated a couple that were probably much higher. So, I have to wonder if my standard of beauty is even remotely realistic, and if it isn’t, I have to wonder how I might be able to change that, or if it’s even possible to change it.

However, this is something I know from experience: while physical attraction isn’t the most important aspect in a relationship, it is important, and dating someone you don’t particularly enjoy looking at is a bad idea. I’ve had a number of women do that to me, and it thoroughly sucks. Ultimately, I know that I don’t want to do it to someone else.

 

All the Little Things

So, I’ve been following the Mark Driscoll plagiarism controversy since it first came out, and if you haven’t heard about what’s going on, it’s well worth a good look. However, as I was reading up on this controversy, I came across several articles about Driscoll’s views on women, focusing specifically on his highly questionable teaching that Esther was, among other things, a selfish slut who seduced King Xerxes into making her the most powerful woman in Persia. This interpretation has a number of obvious flaws, probably the most egregious of which is the idea that Esther had the option to deny Xerxes anything. However, after reading some of Driscoll’s personal testimony about his own history with women (excerpts from his book Real Marriage), I can understand how his views were formed. Driscoll relates that every girl he dated cheated on him, including his wife (though he didn’t discover this until after they were married).

Right or wrong, the way we are treated forms our opinions of people. If you’ve only ever known blacks who were angry gang members, then chances are that you don’t much like black people. Similarly, if you’ve only ever know women who cheat, then chances are you assume that women cheat. We’re often told to avoid forming such prejudices. The problem is that avoiding such prejudices isn’t really possible. What is possible is handling such prejudices. See, if you’ve only ever known hypocritical, selfish Christians, then you’re going to see all Christians as hypocritical and selfish, and interpret their actions in this way. Recognizing this kind of basic assumption is difficult because the assumption itself is such a small thing, but its a small thing that fundamentally shapes the way you see the world. Changing this kind of fundamental assumption is incredibly difficult and often we need help to do so. I’m not convinced that we can actually change them without meeting positive examples of whatever group we are prejudiced against, and even then we must be open to allowing our minds and hearts to change.

So, why am I talking about this? Because sometimes I see women as nothing more than deceptive harpies who live to destroy good people. I know that this image isn’t true, and there are examples of women who are fundamentally not the above, which helps me in my struggle. However, I’ve also been influenced by a lot of women who were exactly that, add to this the fact that almost every woman I’ve dated has left me feeling lied to, betrayed, and broken and you begin to understand where this particular struggle comes from. While I have some experiences that tell me that women can be good, honest, beautiful people, I have a lot more experiences that tell me they are not.

Does this make me a misogynist? No, it doesn’t. It does mean that I sometimes struggle with misogyny though, and that I probably need more examples of good, caring women in my life to help me in that struggle. The problem is, I can seem to find any under 35…

That’s probably a post for another time.

Thanksgiving and Remembrances

Obviously, I haven’t posted in a while. Part of the reason is that I’ve been fairly busy lately. I spent most of the weekend and beginning of this week making sure that I had all of my papers graded before Wednesday so that I could spend Thanksgiving with my family. Part of the reason is that I did spend Thanksgiving with my family, which meant travel, get-togethers, food, etc. I also think that part of the reason, a subconscious part, is that 1) I’m still not entirely comfortable having followers on this blog and I want to get rid of all of you, and 2) the most significant thing I’ve had to say lately isn’t something that I’m actually comfortable saying yet. In fact, what I’m about to write I’ve told all of one person (my niece), and I had to force myself to tell her. It’s not that it’s a bad thing, in fact I think its a very, very good thing, but its something that is very personal, and very uncomfortable. I’m not used to it yet.

So, giving thanks. There are a lot of things to be thankful for, and something that we do at my church the Sunday before every thanksgiving is take a night to simply share things that we are thankful for. I couldn’t get up and share this, though I wanted to. There are many reasons to be thankful. Many things that should inspire gratitude in us. For one, I have a loving family that gets along well. I live in a safe town. I live in a safe part of time. I have good roommates. I like my apartment complex. I have a job that I thoroughly love. I have good friends who care about me. I have people who know they can depend on me. I have a plethora of amazing books to read. I have access to websites with even more amazing books to read. Let’s face it, even being poor in America isn’t all that bad unless you’re at the very bottom of the barrel. I could go on listing things about my church, the school I’m applying to, friend, hobbies, etc, but I think you get the point. I have a lot to be thankful for.

That being said, I haven’t always been a thankful person. Actually, for a long time I was an extremely ungrateful person. I always wanted more, no matter what. It didn’t matter what I did have. The only thing that mattered to me is what I didn’t have. (Don’t worry, I am actually getting to the point). I’ve mentioned several times that I used to be  (still am all to often) a right bastard. My lack of any form of gratitude was a part of that. There are still things that I’m working on. For instance, my last couple of birthdays have been difficult (hell, birthdays have always been difficult for me). The year before last my birthday was ignored entirely. This came on the tail end of a bad breakup in which the girl that I’d been ‘not-quite-dating’ dumped me and then jumped in bed with someone three days later. Admittedly, that was a low point, and I feel that I wasn’t entirely unjustified in being frustrated with my friends. My birthday this year wasn’t forgotten, a few friends even got together and threw me a party. Honestly, this should have been plenty to satisfy me, but the distinct lack of gifts stood out to me. I went out of my way to be profuse in speaking my gratitude, but I’m not convinced that it was entirely felt. A part of this is that gifts are my primary means of receiving love and affection. If you really want to make my day, send me an encouraging note or give me a little something with a lot of meaning.

I’m not saying that I need big gifts or expensive gifts. Honestly, how much it cost doesn’t matter to me at all. If you can get it for free, all the better. What does matter is the time, thought, and effort that you put into the gift. I have a few rules for gift-giving: 1) the gift should be meaningful to the giver, 2) the gift should be desirable to the recipient, 3) the gift should say something about the relationship between the two, 4) the gift shouldn’t be a necessity. So, the lack of gifts did actually mean something to me. However, I also think that lack of gratitude stayed with me for longer than it should have.

So, the point. One of the things that my church does on our night of gratitude is ask this question: What is one thing that you are thankful for now that you never thought you could be thankful for?

My answer to that question surprised me. I am thankful that God has kept me single for as long as he has. I’m not saying that I don’t still want to get married. I’m not saying that I’ve given up. I am saying this, and I’ve said this part of it several times. God has taught me more through loneliness and broken relationships than through any other single means. It is my utter, complete, and repeated failure with women that has taught be to love other people, and taught me about God’s love for me. This is probably the single most significant change in me over the course of my salvation, and I’ve been thankful for the changes themselves, but never for the process that led to them.

This is the thing that no one ever told me about gratitude. There are many, many levels of gratitude. It’s not simply about saying thank you, nor is it simply about being thankful for the things that you have or the things that you like. I need to be thankful for the things in my life that are good for me, even if I don’t really enjoy them.

Saying thank you and actually being thankful are two different things as well. I can say ‘thank you’ a hundred times and never mean it. However, saying thank you can (and some of the exercises on Happify.com have helped with this) actually help you to be thankful for things. Being thankful is more consistent than simply saying thank you. A simple ‘thank you’ can come out of nothing more complicated than politeness. However, being thankful comes from the heart. It reflects the core of one’s being, and it is one of the things that reflects godliness. We should rejoice and be thankful in general, but we should make special effort to rejoice and be thankful for those things that we are not at first eager to say thank you for.

So… I think at this point I’ve stopped making sense. So, I leave you with this: gratitude that is slow to appear, begruding, and quickly vanishes is less than real. It might be a good step, but it isn’t real. Gratitude that overflows from the heart, that is quick to the tongue, eager to be shared, and doesn’t disappear after being shared is the real thing. Strive for that.

Monkeys on the Brain

In college I had a roommate who was obsessed with monkeys. Specifically with the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz, but with monkeys in general. Largely because of this person the phrase ‘monkeys’ has become a cuss word for me that symbolizes everything bad in the world. Sometimes it refers to a specific problem, sometimes it refers to the generally cursed and depraved state of the world, sometimes it just refers to the fact that I get in my own way. Right now, I have a lot of monkeys. One of those monkeys is the fact that, over the past few weeks, I have found myself struggling with pornography to a steadily increasing degree. I have struggled almost daily, and generally fallen once or twice a week. It’s gotten to the point that a short-term goal for the coming week (Thursday-Thursday) is to avoid all forms of pornography. Once Thursday comes I’ll set a new goal. Assuming I succeed, it will hopefully be a longer goal (maybe two weeks). If I don’t succeed… well, try, try again, right?

Another monkey has been random bouts of hopelessness. Admittedly, I’m prone to periods of moderate depression. I don’t struggle with the ‘Life is worthless, I’m staying in bed’ extreme kind of depression, but there are times when I feel overcome by life in general. As I write this, and for most of the night honestly, I find myself completely sure that I will die alone. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t really believe this… mostly… most of the time. I generally believe that God does have a relationship in mind for me. I don’t know with whom, or when it will happen, but this is still my general assumption. Most of the time. Tonight, my general assumption is that no one will ever love or desire me, and thus that I will die old, alone, and probably miserable. I’m pretty much convinced of this really. I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?

Feelings are deceptive things. They don’t portray reality in any meaningful way, and often they portray the very opposite of reality. Right now I know that there are people who love me. Perhaps no women who have a romantic inclination towards me, or at least none that have let me see that inclination, but people who love me whole-heartedly nonetheless. However, I don’t feel loved. My feelings don’t particularly care whether I am loved. The thing is, and it took me a long time to learn this, I can’t rely on any other person to make me feel loved. Most of the time those people don’t have a clue how to in the first place, and even if they did know how, they won’t always be able to.

I do want to find a woman who will love me. A woman who will want to take care of me, who will desire me and desire to be taken care of by me. A woman who will want to make me feel loved. However, even if I do find such a woman, it would be a disservice of me to always rely on her to make me feel loved. That isn’t something that she will ever be capable of. If I put my feelings in her hands, she will fail. This doesn’t mean that I am unwilling to give her my heart or my trust. I’m simply saying that she will be human, and prone to all the failings that humans have. Her love, however it appears, will be imperfect.

Honestly, this is obvious, and we’ve all heard it a thousand times, but I need to rely on God in these struggles. Not on people.