It's been a while since I posted an update. That's mainly because I was too busy running around with Snuggly Bear. Sadly, I'm no longer running around with Snuggly Bear. This is mainly because I broke up with Snuggly Bear last Saturday. I am once again single.
In many ways, I'm okay with the break-up. In many ways, I'm proud of the break-up. Truth be told, the relationship wasn't going well, and it was becoming obvious that things in the relationship weren't going to improve, at least not unless I was willing to keep pushing, making threats, and otherwise make things progress through sheer force of will...and manipulation/coercion.
I just didn't need that, nor did I want it. For starters, it would've required me to put way too much into the relationship than I really should have to. Plus, you know, I don't want to go back to being maniipulative or coercive. It'd be the Karpellian Drama Triangle all over again. If I have to go back to that to keep a relationship going, then it's not a relationship worth trying to save.
In many ways, I'm proud of myself for acknowledging that truth and acting on it. Even a year ago, I would have tried just about anything to keep things going, to try and make things work out. I was that desperate. So I'm patting myself on the back for saying, "No way, Jose" and moving on.
Granted, I'm also hurt. I'm hurt that it came to that. I'm hurt that Snuggly Bear seemed willing to keep the relationship going the way it was, even though I felt it was obvious that the relationship was going the way it was at my expense. I'm a little hurt -- and sad for him -- that he seems willing to walk away from the relationship -- something he once claimed was the best thing that ever happened to him -- just so he can bury his head in the sand and avoid facing up to the hard work of making the changes that would have been necessary to make things healthy between us.
But as a good friend once told me, people don't change until the pain of remaining the same becomes too great to bear. And it seems that Snuggly Bear can still withstand -- or avoid -- the pain remaining the same is causing him. Unfortunately for him, I'm no longer to bear the pain it's causing me.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think Snuggly Bear is a bad person. But one things that my time in therapy taught me is that sometimes, it really should be about me. I'm declaring this one of those times.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Learning to talk about myself
This post is inspired in part by this ongoing conversation about The Friend Zone. Read the linked blog entry if you don't know what The Friend Zone is. Read the linked blog entry if you do know what The Friend Zone is. It's well worth reading, as are the comments.
I especially want to draw attention to the following statement by the commenter emilyperson:
This is something I've struggled with in the past. Historically, I don't talk about myself much. It's not that I don't think I have anything going on in my life. It's not that I don't have opinions or interests. I just historically haven't felt like the average person really would be interested in what I have to say or my life.
The reason for that is complex (though can basically be boiled down to "low self-esteem and codependency") and complicated. Part of it has to do with the fact that I grew up in an environment that taught[1] me that I was supposed to show more interest in others than myself, that talking about myself (at all) was "bragging" and "being an insufferable egomaniac."
So as I developed friendships and relationships, my general attitude has been, "If the other person really wants to know about me and my interests, zie will ask." It seems perfectly logical, really. I spend time asking zir about zir life and interests and zie will do the same.
The problem is, that doesn't always work out in practice. I think part of that stems from the fact that a lot of people in my life simply aren't as curious as I am, nor have they developed the skill[2] or patience I have for drawing people out of their shells and sharing things about themselves. In some ways, it's frustrating, as I feel people should want to get to know me better and put in a little extra effort to find out more about me.[3]
But in fairness to others, I've realized I don't exactly make it easy for others, either. I don't volunteer a lot of information about others. I tend to answer what questions people ask me with as short of answers as possible. The result is that for someone to get to know me, zie practically has to put me through an interrogation process, winning any knowledge of me one tiny fragment of a time.
That's not "a little extra effort." That's a monumental task. If offered to Sisyphus was offered this as his new punishment in Tartarus, I suspect he might choose to stick with pushing his rock.
So I'm trying something different.[4] I'm trying to be better about volunteering information. I'm trying to answer questions in ways that volunteer more information than the basic answer to the question. I'm trying to remember that if I mention someone in my life and I happen to have a picture of them in my phone or on Facebook, I should whip out my phone and show the picture. And if there's a story behind the picture, I try to tell the story.
I'm not doing a perfect job yet, but hopefully it's doing more to show that I'm a real live person.
---
[1]I don't think that anyone meant to teach me these ideas. If I spoke to my parents, teachers, or religious leaders that influenced me growing up about this, they'd probably be mortified that this is the message I perceived from them.
But that's the thing about childhood youth. The lessons those in charge intended to teach and the message perceived by the young don't always look the same.
[2] Granted, I'm not sure if it's skill so much as cosmic rays or some other strange phenomenon. I've had far too many people tell me deeply personal things without five minutes of meeting me for the first time to say it's something I'm doing, at least not on a conscious level.
[3] To some people's credit, they've done exactly that. Sweet Waiter asked me a number of questions while we stood outside of Home Bar and chatted.
[4] And as I have a new boyfriend, he gets to be one of my primary helps in this.
I especially want to draw attention to the following statement by the commenter emilyperson:
Oh, and that you can't expect your object of affection to be interesting enough for both of you, so you should probably start contributing something to the conversation besides endless compliments.
This is something I've struggled with in the past. Historically, I don't talk about myself much. It's not that I don't think I have anything going on in my life. It's not that I don't have opinions or interests. I just historically haven't felt like the average person really would be interested in what I have to say or my life.
The reason for that is complex (though can basically be boiled down to "low self-esteem and codependency") and complicated. Part of it has to do with the fact that I grew up in an environment that taught[1] me that I was supposed to show more interest in others than myself, that talking about myself (at all) was "bragging" and "being an insufferable egomaniac."
So as I developed friendships and relationships, my general attitude has been, "If the other person really wants to know about me and my interests, zie will ask." It seems perfectly logical, really. I spend time asking zir about zir life and interests and zie will do the same.
The problem is, that doesn't always work out in practice. I think part of that stems from the fact that a lot of people in my life simply aren't as curious as I am, nor have they developed the skill[2] or patience I have for drawing people out of their shells and sharing things about themselves. In some ways, it's frustrating, as I feel people should want to get to know me better and put in a little extra effort to find out more about me.[3]
But in fairness to others, I've realized I don't exactly make it easy for others, either. I don't volunteer a lot of information about others. I tend to answer what questions people ask me with as short of answers as possible. The result is that for someone to get to know me, zie practically has to put me through an interrogation process, winning any knowledge of me one tiny fragment of a time.
That's not "a little extra effort." That's a monumental task. If offered to Sisyphus was offered this as his new punishment in Tartarus, I suspect he might choose to stick with pushing his rock.
So I'm trying something different.[4] I'm trying to be better about volunteering information. I'm trying to answer questions in ways that volunteer more information than the basic answer to the question. I'm trying to remember that if I mention someone in my life and I happen to have a picture of them in my phone or on Facebook, I should whip out my phone and show the picture. And if there's a story behind the picture, I try to tell the story.
I'm not doing a perfect job yet, but hopefully it's doing more to show that I'm a real live person.
---
[1]I don't think that anyone meant to teach me these ideas. If I spoke to my parents, teachers, or religious leaders that influenced me growing up about this, they'd probably be mortified that this is the message I perceived from them.
But that's the thing about childhood youth. The lessons those in charge intended to teach and the message perceived by the young don't always look the same.
[2] Granted, I'm not sure if it's skill so much as cosmic rays or some other strange phenomenon. I've had far too many people tell me deeply personal things without five minutes of meeting me for the first time to say it's something I'm doing, at least not on a conscious level.
[3] To some people's credit, they've done exactly that. Sweet Waiter asked me a number of questions while we stood outside of Home Bar and chatted.
[4] And as I have a new boyfriend, he gets to be one of my primary helps in this.
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