The idea that men see "loves to travel" on dating websites and makes unpleasant assumptions about the girl who does has popped up in an earlier combox. So let's continue the discussion here. Respectfully, keeping in mind that men are Readers now.
Personally, I love to travel to other cities. (This usually means Toronto, Rome or Krakow.) Generally our travel money comes out of my earnings. Basically, that's where my writing money goes: Polish class and travel. Sometimes I travel with my husband. Sometimes I travel on my own. I am much better at travelling on my own because there is no-one for me to snarl at. I'm not a fantastic travel companion; nobody should ever have to fly with me. I'm okay in trains, though. Cars, ditto. There's just something about airplanes. Oh, and on holiday snoring turns me into a homicidal maniac.
I have never had a holiday romance in my--- I never had a holiday romance that did not result in me marrying the guy. Occasionally I have been hit on by locals, or by recent immigrants, while on holiday, and I have just ignored them, mostly. I did get a terrible reputation on my Contiki tour by chatting with a couple of cops from Napoli one evening. My Italian was very good then. Sigh. I do recall saying "Non piace alla mamma" (My mum wouldn't like it) a few times. ("Then don't tell her." "I tell my mother EVERYTHING!" When under pressure in Italy, invoke your mother a lot.)
Anyway, I have googled about looking for unpleasant associations with "loves to travel" and found this. Man, I wish men weren't so obsessed with money. Too many seem to have this idea that women are out for all the money we can get. But like the manicurist who had already paid $9000 towards her wedding to the guy who gave her that $50,000 engagement ring, most of us are employed and have our OWN money.
Update: This is rather amusing. Okay, apparently I don't love to travel. I travel three or four times a year, unless you count going south of Prestonpans to fall into rivers on hikes.
Update 2: Jeepers. Another guy who worries "loves to travel" = "I want a guy with money."
Update Three: The BBC suggests that "I love to travel" is a cliché, and you should leave it out of dating profiles.
Showing posts with label Dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dating. Show all posts
Tuesday, 15 April 2014
Thursday, 20 February 2014
Virgin-Shaming
A Single reader with a boyfriend sent me this link, thinking it explained her office dynamic. Further questioning revealed that the most recent conversation about her chaste relationship with her boyfriend was mostly just her colleague putting her foot in it, e.g. "So are you and your boyfriend going away for the weekend? Why not? Doesn't he stay over? He doesn't? Why not?"
I don't work in an office, and thank heavens, for offices feature bored female administrative assistants who long to win the lottery and get the heck out. The gossip and tittle-tattle and attempts to divert oneself with the personal lives or emotional reactions of others are just soul-killing. It's one reason why I worked so hard to get into a PhD program; one slip in my grades, I felt, and I'd be back in the file room. (I should state, however, that I have warm memories of the women in the file room of the ODSP, who taught me a lot about humility and getting along with others.)
Young people often lack the calm confidence of the middle-aged, taking refuge in frightened anger or in-your-face bravado when someone treads on your toes. But in the West all kinds of laws have been passed to prevent harassment of women in the workplace, and these apply not only to men but to other women. It is not okay for people at work to give you a hard time about your sexual choices or to pry into your personal life. However, you are still the one primarily responsible for protecting your private life. You can't just call up HR the minute someone says, "So are you and your honey going away for the weekend?"
The way to take such a question, which 90% of the time is just as friendly attempt at passing some time, is lightly and in the spirit it is meant. "Nah, we'll kick back here, maybe see a movie" is an excellent response, and may lead the conversation right to the safe territory of movies.
Of course, 10% of the time, the question will be part of an office lady plot to find out your business, possibly because you have said something imprudent that put you on the "This girl is different" radar. Unless you are self-employed like Saint Paul, making tents beside the stall of your neighbour the spice peddler, mentioning topics like chastity at work is a bad idea. Just mentioning that you have a boyfriend is a bad idea, unless directly asked. But remember that at all times you are allowed to subtly change the subject. Throw your questioner a tidbit: "Yeah. Rob's really into film." If Rob's into film, you can change the subject to film EVERY time anyone asks anything personal. "What are you and Rob doin' tonight?" "Ah, probably watching a film." Make old Rob sound cozy and predictable, and everyone will assume you're "just normal," whatever "just normal" means to them.
Of course, if there is a real problem, with jerks making fun of you and your sexual choice not to have sex, then it may very well be time to go to your manager or Human Resources. Say you don't push your religion on anyone, and you are sick of people pushing their sexual beliefs on you and humiliating you for your choices. Nobody should be sexually harassed at work. Ever. By anyone.
Update: Thanks to the reader who linked to this in the combox. It's pretty good. In fact, when I think about the girls who gave B.A. a hard time for, well, being B.A., not their idea of who B.A. SHOULD be, I also conclude that they were idiots. However, I'm grateful that they WERE idiots, because that meant they left B.A. for me. Yay, them!
I don't work in an office, and thank heavens, for offices feature bored female administrative assistants who long to win the lottery and get the heck out. The gossip and tittle-tattle and attempts to divert oneself with the personal lives or emotional reactions of others are just soul-killing. It's one reason why I worked so hard to get into a PhD program; one slip in my grades, I felt, and I'd be back in the file room. (I should state, however, that I have warm memories of the women in the file room of the ODSP, who taught me a lot about humility and getting along with others.)
Young people often lack the calm confidence of the middle-aged, taking refuge in frightened anger or in-your-face bravado when someone treads on your toes. But in the West all kinds of laws have been passed to prevent harassment of women in the workplace, and these apply not only to men but to other women. It is not okay for people at work to give you a hard time about your sexual choices or to pry into your personal life. However, you are still the one primarily responsible for protecting your private life. You can't just call up HR the minute someone says, "So are you and your honey going away for the weekend?"
The way to take such a question, which 90% of the time is just as friendly attempt at passing some time, is lightly and in the spirit it is meant. "Nah, we'll kick back here, maybe see a movie" is an excellent response, and may lead the conversation right to the safe territory of movies.
Of course, 10% of the time, the question will be part of an office lady plot to find out your business, possibly because you have said something imprudent that put you on the "This girl is different" radar. Unless you are self-employed like Saint Paul, making tents beside the stall of your neighbour the spice peddler, mentioning topics like chastity at work is a bad idea. Just mentioning that you have a boyfriend is a bad idea, unless directly asked. But remember that at all times you are allowed to subtly change the subject. Throw your questioner a tidbit: "Yeah. Rob's really into film." If Rob's into film, you can change the subject to film EVERY time anyone asks anything personal. "What are you and Rob doin' tonight?" "Ah, probably watching a film." Make old Rob sound cozy and predictable, and everyone will assume you're "just normal," whatever "just normal" means to them.
Of course, if there is a real problem, with jerks making fun of you and your sexual choice not to have sex, then it may very well be time to go to your manager or Human Resources. Say you don't push your religion on anyone, and you are sick of people pushing their sexual beliefs on you and humiliating you for your choices. Nobody should be sexually harassed at work. Ever. By anyone.
Update: Thanks to the reader who linked to this in the combox. It's pretty good. In fact, when I think about the girls who gave B.A. a hard time for, well, being B.A., not their idea of who B.A. SHOULD be, I also conclude that they were idiots. However, I'm grateful that they WERE idiots, because that meant they left B.A. for me. Yay, them!
Thursday, 5 December 2013
Friends with Men
Yesterday saw some comments and one email about the challenge of being friends with men. This is an area rife with problems because commonly held social expectations have fallen down and the similarities between men and women are stressed to the expense of the differences.
Also the culture of divorce and the elevation of motherhood high, high above fatherhood has left many men spooked about losing their hearts, youth, children and, as some of them never cease to remind us, wallets to women. Meanwhile, the internet has the potential to wipe out any sense of mystery around sexual relations and therefore half the allure of women. I imagine some men may decide that they are better off completely dividing sex from marriage, and just have a lot of female buddies, one or two of whom serve as "friends with benefits."
Naturally I implore you never to become a "friend with benefits." If anecdote is to be believed, it is not that unusual for girls, particularly in very poor, western, male-dominated communities, to trot around to indulge the sexual whims of male friends they admire. I hope the anecdote is not true; it seems to be a theme of contemporary rap music, however. I suppose the girls (if they really exist) are telling themselves they are having fun.
Dear me, what a way to begin a post about friendships with men. Sorry about that.
Well, to tell you the truth, I did not have any real male buddies until I was 18. Although I socialized with boys, I could not say that any (except my one-year-younger brother) was a friend. And not all the men I socialized with, in the highly-charged environment of the teenage wing of the pro-life movement, were my friends--at least, not good friends. One of the boys was a genial bully. Another boy fought with me pretty constantly about feminism. Of them all, I socialize with only two today although I exchange friendly greetings, when I see them, with the boys who are now priests. And I pray for the two who have died.
Being a Catholic teenage girl around Catholic teenage men taught me one important life lesson: Catholic conservative men are afraid of feminists, feminism, Catholic feminism, Catholic feminists and anything that reminds them of such people and things. You can be as pro-life as Mother Teresa, and as politically active as Dorothy Day, and as philosophically brilliant as Elizabeth Anscombe, but if you say "I'm a feminist", you might as well shave your head and stick a nose-ring through your septum.
Of course, a lot of Catholic conservative men, like a lot of non-Catholic or liberal men, are jerks who feel personally insulted when they discover that some women, particularly women their own age, are smarter than them. Oh, the horror. But there we get into the whole subject of male competition. Men compete with men, and when called upon to do so, compete with women, and get annoyed when women change the rules or, in fact, win. Life must have been so much easier for men when they did not have to compete with women at all.
I'm trying to see it from their point of view. I hope they try to see it from ours.
Anyway, men don't hold much mystery for men, and from what I see, their friendships tend to consist in getting together at least once every three months to do something or drink beer and insult each other. (Married men friends bring their wives to dinner parties, and hopefully their wives get along, despite completely divergent politics or whatever, and have a high tolerance for the men's in-jokes, college memories and anecdotes about people the wives have never met.) When I was in the pro-life movement, there as certainly a lot of doing something and of the boys insulting each other and of various boys insulting me because for a whole year I was apparently next door to being a guy. I was apparently "not really a girl girl", an insult that has haunted me for over 20 years.
Oh, oh. In my mind's ear I hear my mother. She is saying, "Why have you allowed that foolish young man to blight your life?"
Me: It not a question of "allowed." He just did.
Aged P: It's been twenty years. Get over it.
Me: Do you think it's because I insisted that a woman could be Catholic and a feminist?
Aged P: I think he was angry because he saw himself as an intellectual but it was all for show, and your arguments threatened his view of himself. Men are hothouse plants. The slightest cold breeze and pffffffft.
Me: What if I had kept my mouth shut, and just written everything I thought in secret, and deliberately looked and acted like what the boys obviously though a Nice Catholic Girl should look like?
Aged P: Seraphic, you have a wonderful life with a husband who loves you for you. Don't look back. Lot's wife looked back, and now she's a Middle Eastern salt-lick.
Me: But I'm trying to advise my readers here. They want to have male friends, but on the other hand, they want to encourage eligible men to consider them more than friends.
Aged P: What about maidenly distance? Don't you usually harp on maidenly distance?
Me: Oh, yes. Thanks.
If you want to men to think of you as a woman, and not just one of the guys, I highly recommend wearing visual cues and establishing some clear boundaries. If you must wear jeans, wear fashionable ladies' jeans with fashionably girly tops. Wear women's clothes, not unisex clothes. If you must cut your hair, make sure it's not a man's haircut. Carry a handbag or bling your knapsack in a way a guy just wouldn't. (You can be sporty and do this too. I have a Hibernians Football Club t-shirt--studded with rhinestones.) Make some parts of your life, like your bedroom, completely off-limits to your male friends. This is not a chastity thing here; it is a mystery thing.
Meanwhile, if a guy asks you out on something that sounds like a date, but you are not sure if it is a date, I know no reason why you could not ask, "Is this a date or a friend thing?" In fact, I don't know why you could not ask "Is this a date or a friend thing?" at every invitation, so as to jog the male mind to remember that you are, in fact, a girl. Indeed, if he asks, however jocularly, "Does it matter?", you could say "Of course it matters! I'm a girl! I need to know!" Confidence and good cheer, that's the ticket.
Anyway, I hope this is helpful. As for men telling you long sagas about the girls they are in love with, don't pretend that they are girls and give them advice or make girl-soothing noises, unless you are old enough to be their mother. Suggest they talk to someone old enough to be their mother. Suggest they talk to your mother. Suggest they write to me.
Don't be a man-your-age's mother. If you feel like being flirtatious with the poor schnook, say "But Scooter! How can you possibly think about other girls when you're here with ME?" Whatever you do, don't sit there being nice. Men occasionally tell me some surprisingly frank things about what they think of women who catch their attention, but "She's so nice" has not been one of them.
Since I think it is important, I will reveal that B.A. fell in love with me when I was sitting in a very handsome drawing-room wearing a deep blue, knee-length shift dress and pearls listening to an elderly man tell salty anecdotes about a famous Oxford don. I had a terrible cold, but I sat up straight and my company manners were perfect or, at least, correct for an Edinburgh drawing-room. I was sooo lady-like, I am sure I did my mother proud.
Always bring a nice dress to Europe, even if you're backpacking, in case there is a party.
Also the culture of divorce and the elevation of motherhood high, high above fatherhood has left many men spooked about losing their hearts, youth, children and, as some of them never cease to remind us, wallets to women. Meanwhile, the internet has the potential to wipe out any sense of mystery around sexual relations and therefore half the allure of women. I imagine some men may decide that they are better off completely dividing sex from marriage, and just have a lot of female buddies, one or two of whom serve as "friends with benefits."
Naturally I implore you never to become a "friend with benefits." If anecdote is to be believed, it is not that unusual for girls, particularly in very poor, western, male-dominated communities, to trot around to indulge the sexual whims of male friends they admire. I hope the anecdote is not true; it seems to be a theme of contemporary rap music, however. I suppose the girls (if they really exist) are telling themselves they are having fun.
Dear me, what a way to begin a post about friendships with men. Sorry about that.
Well, to tell you the truth, I did not have any real male buddies until I was 18. Although I socialized with boys, I could not say that any (except my one-year-younger brother) was a friend. And not all the men I socialized with, in the highly-charged environment of the teenage wing of the pro-life movement, were my friends--at least, not good friends. One of the boys was a genial bully. Another boy fought with me pretty constantly about feminism. Of them all, I socialize with only two today although I exchange friendly greetings, when I see them, with the boys who are now priests. And I pray for the two who have died.
Being a Catholic teenage girl around Catholic teenage men taught me one important life lesson: Catholic conservative men are afraid of feminists, feminism, Catholic feminism, Catholic feminists and anything that reminds them of such people and things. You can be as pro-life as Mother Teresa, and as politically active as Dorothy Day, and as philosophically brilliant as Elizabeth Anscombe, but if you say "I'm a feminist", you might as well shave your head and stick a nose-ring through your septum.
Of course, a lot of Catholic conservative men, like a lot of non-Catholic or liberal men, are jerks who feel personally insulted when they discover that some women, particularly women their own age, are smarter than them. Oh, the horror. But there we get into the whole subject of male competition. Men compete with men, and when called upon to do so, compete with women, and get annoyed when women change the rules or, in fact, win. Life must have been so much easier for men when they did not have to compete with women at all.
I'm trying to see it from their point of view. I hope they try to see it from ours.
Anyway, men don't hold much mystery for men, and from what I see, their friendships tend to consist in getting together at least once every three months to do something or drink beer and insult each other. (Married men friends bring their wives to dinner parties, and hopefully their wives get along, despite completely divergent politics or whatever, and have a high tolerance for the men's in-jokes, college memories and anecdotes about people the wives have never met.) When I was in the pro-life movement, there as certainly a lot of doing something and of the boys insulting each other and of various boys insulting me because for a whole year I was apparently next door to being a guy. I was apparently "not really a girl girl", an insult that has haunted me for over 20 years.
Oh, oh. In my mind's ear I hear my mother. She is saying, "Why have you allowed that foolish young man to blight your life?"
Me: It not a question of "allowed." He just did.
Aged P: It's been twenty years. Get over it.
Me: Do you think it's because I insisted that a woman could be Catholic and a feminist?
Aged P: I think he was angry because he saw himself as an intellectual but it was all for show, and your arguments threatened his view of himself. Men are hothouse plants. The slightest cold breeze and pffffffft.
Me: What if I had kept my mouth shut, and just written everything I thought in secret, and deliberately looked and acted like what the boys obviously though a Nice Catholic Girl should look like?
Aged P: Seraphic, you have a wonderful life with a husband who loves you for you. Don't look back. Lot's wife looked back, and now she's a Middle Eastern salt-lick.
Me: But I'm trying to advise my readers here. They want to have male friends, but on the other hand, they want to encourage eligible men to consider them more than friends.
Aged P: What about maidenly distance? Don't you usually harp on maidenly distance?
Me: Oh, yes. Thanks.
If you want to men to think of you as a woman, and not just one of the guys, I highly recommend wearing visual cues and establishing some clear boundaries. If you must wear jeans, wear fashionable ladies' jeans with fashionably girly tops. Wear women's clothes, not unisex clothes. If you must cut your hair, make sure it's not a man's haircut. Carry a handbag or bling your knapsack in a way a guy just wouldn't. (You can be sporty and do this too. I have a Hibernians Football Club t-shirt--studded with rhinestones.) Make some parts of your life, like your bedroom, completely off-limits to your male friends. This is not a chastity thing here; it is a mystery thing.
Meanwhile, if a guy asks you out on something that sounds like a date, but you are not sure if it is a date, I know no reason why you could not ask, "Is this a date or a friend thing?" In fact, I don't know why you could not ask "Is this a date or a friend thing?" at every invitation, so as to jog the male mind to remember that you are, in fact, a girl. Indeed, if he asks, however jocularly, "Does it matter?", you could say "Of course it matters! I'm a girl! I need to know!" Confidence and good cheer, that's the ticket.
Anyway, I hope this is helpful. As for men telling you long sagas about the girls they are in love with, don't pretend that they are girls and give them advice or make girl-soothing noises, unless you are old enough to be their mother. Suggest they talk to someone old enough to be their mother. Suggest they talk to your mother. Suggest they write to me.
Don't be a man-your-age's mother. If you feel like being flirtatious with the poor schnook, say "But Scooter! How can you possibly think about other girls when you're here with ME?" Whatever you do, don't sit there being nice. Men occasionally tell me some surprisingly frank things about what they think of women who catch their attention, but "She's so nice" has not been one of them.
Since I think it is important, I will reveal that B.A. fell in love with me when I was sitting in a very handsome drawing-room wearing a deep blue, knee-length shift dress and pearls listening to an elderly man tell salty anecdotes about a famous Oxford don. I had a terrible cold, but I sat up straight and my company manners were perfect or, at least, correct for an Edinburgh drawing-room. I was sooo lady-like, I am sure I did my mother proud.
Always bring a nice dress to Europe, even if you're backpacking, in case there is a party.
Wednesday, 4 December 2013
"Just Friends For Now"
I'd love to say that I admire most those men who know exactly what they want in life, put their heads down and get it. These are the kind of men who don't ask a girl out unless they think she's the kind of girl they'd marry, who call her promptly the next day to make the next date, drop her at once if they realize they don't want to marry her, or propose marriage when they know they do, and call up potential employers to see if they got their resumés. Hard-working, straight-shooting, utterly consistent, down to earth guys. The kind of guys "The Rules" actually work on. Guys who aren't complex.
I hate complex guys. Or rather, no, I don't. Alas. When I look back at the blasted heath of my dating life, I see a lot of complex men, most of them very well-read in philosophy. A lot of them are now academics, successful or failed. Instead of having a single-minded pursuit of woman, family, money and house, their thoughts were all over the place. Plato, Aristotle, Hegel, Heidegger, Kristeva, Deleuze, Foucault, Derrida... The more pretentious, by which I mean the less bright, read De Bono and that awful tick whats-his-name. In the pop philosophy section at W.H. Smith. Not Mark Kingswell or Alain de Botton, whose "Consolations of Philosophy".I rather liked. Some pseud or other. Not Dario Fo, but some name like Fo. No doubt I am blocking the memory because his fan, though mesmerizing, was so unpleasant. Anyway, these guys did not get their heads together, if they ever did get them together, before age 28.
How happy I am that I dated someone nice in the hard sciences before I married former philosophy lecturer B.A. (Fortunately I met B.A. when he was in a single-minded pursuit of the Catholic Life, so his thoughts were very concentrated.) The scientist was complex, too, though, because he was not sure what he wanted. If I had to guess, I'd guess he just wants to be a nice God-fearing bachelor scientist of the sort that used to employ a housekeeper. There are not a lot of contemporary models for this way of life. Fortunately he is in Germany where it is totally unprofessional for colleagues to pry into your personal life or assume single = gay.
Anyway, I am pondering Simple versus Complex because a reader wrote in about a guy who would ask her out and then avoid her and then ask her out again and then not text for a week, etc. He told her that she was beautiful and wonderful, and he didn't want to jump into things, and he would really like to be good friends for now. Later, after she pointed out she wants to date men, not just hang out, he texted her to say he was not romantically interested in her. She's disappointed, although I am not sure why, as he seems rather addlepated to me. For one thing, he does not know what he wants to do in life, etc., etc. That must have made picking majors rather difficult. I shouldn't say this on such little evidence, but I bet he's in philosophy.
"Good friends for now" rang a little bell in my brain because I had a reader who had a crush on a guy who went with her everywhere at college, although she never heard a word from him during summer holidays, and when she asked him about romance he said "Just friends for now." Well, he turned out to be gay, so now when readers tell me young men act like their shadows but insist on "just friends for now", I get suspicious. However, in this case, I don't think the young man has deep-seated SSA (although presumably 2 out of every 100 Catholic guys do indeed have them). I think he honestly doesn't know what he wants from girls. You know, I bet he isn't even complex. I bet he is just addled by the culture of choice.
Part of the problem of the post-war generations is too much choice, or (often) the illusion of too much choice. I doubt anyone asked my dad where he wanted to go to school. He was packed off to the same boarding school as his brother and told by the pre-Arrupe Jesuits how to be. If I remember this correctly, he won a scholarship to X sponsored by his father's company. That determined where he went to university. (There were no girls at this university.) He then won a scholarship to Y, so off he went to Y. Then he won a scholarship in Canada, so off he went to Canada. He met my mother there, and if it is true that it was love-at-first-sight for old Dad, as one of his pals told me 20 years later, he didn't have much choice there either. It's really lucky he wasn't called up and sent to Vietnam, something else that would not have been a choice.
All that said, my father--whom I personally consider the greatest catch of the twentieth century--did not marry until he was 29. TWENTY-NINE. And my mother was 23. TWENTY-THREE. Six year age difference! And you know what? I think you Searching Single youngsters should give the men your age who don't seem to know what they want in life a miss and try to meet men who are up to six years older. Because if you are under 25, chances are that the men your age do not know what they want in life yet. They are befuddled by so much choice or, with easy credit and tempting student loans and Catholic dating sites, the illusion of choice. Or they are so focused on their career path, they can't think about girls right now--unless THE girl suddenly appears. And almost never is this girl you.
Naturally you will worry, as girls have always worried, that older guys = unchaste guys, but that is not necessarily the case. You can't know unless you meet them and talk to them.
Well, what do you think? Is the way to cope with today's men-so-spoiled-for-choice-they-don't-know-what-they-want is to pass them by and intentionally meet older Single men, men who have already made bold choices that have determined the direction of their lives?
And, incidentally, do you think it would be better for parents to order their kids what to study at university? Is planning their kids' careers a responsibility parents ought to have?
Finally, remember Shakespeare's immortal words:
Update: ONE HUNDRED READERS bought Ceremony of Innocence! Whee! Would Number 100 like to take a bow? Thank you all so much. Where I would be without my "Seraphic Singles" readers I can't imagine. Believe me, readers have given me as much as I have given readers, if not more.
I hate complex guys. Or rather, no, I don't. Alas. When I look back at the blasted heath of my dating life, I see a lot of complex men, most of them very well-read in philosophy. A lot of them are now academics, successful or failed. Instead of having a single-minded pursuit of woman, family, money and house, their thoughts were all over the place. Plato, Aristotle, Hegel, Heidegger, Kristeva, Deleuze, Foucault, Derrida... The more pretentious, by which I mean the less bright, read De Bono and that awful tick whats-his-name. In the pop philosophy section at W.H. Smith. Not Mark Kingswell or Alain de Botton, whose "Consolations of Philosophy".I rather liked. Some pseud or other. Not Dario Fo, but some name like Fo. No doubt I am blocking the memory because his fan, though mesmerizing, was so unpleasant. Anyway, these guys did not get their heads together, if they ever did get them together, before age 28.
How happy I am that I dated someone nice in the hard sciences before I married former philosophy lecturer B.A. (Fortunately I met B.A. when he was in a single-minded pursuit of the Catholic Life, so his thoughts were very concentrated.) The scientist was complex, too, though, because he was not sure what he wanted. If I had to guess, I'd guess he just wants to be a nice God-fearing bachelor scientist of the sort that used to employ a housekeeper. There are not a lot of contemporary models for this way of life. Fortunately he is in Germany where it is totally unprofessional for colleagues to pry into your personal life or assume single = gay.
Anyway, I am pondering Simple versus Complex because a reader wrote in about a guy who would ask her out and then avoid her and then ask her out again and then not text for a week, etc. He told her that she was beautiful and wonderful, and he didn't want to jump into things, and he would really like to be good friends for now. Later, after she pointed out she wants to date men, not just hang out, he texted her to say he was not romantically interested in her. She's disappointed, although I am not sure why, as he seems rather addlepated to me. For one thing, he does not know what he wants to do in life, etc., etc. That must have made picking majors rather difficult. I shouldn't say this on such little evidence, but I bet he's in philosophy.
"Good friends for now" rang a little bell in my brain because I had a reader who had a crush on a guy who went with her everywhere at college, although she never heard a word from him during summer holidays, and when she asked him about romance he said "Just friends for now." Well, he turned out to be gay, so now when readers tell me young men act like their shadows but insist on "just friends for now", I get suspicious. However, in this case, I don't think the young man has deep-seated SSA (although presumably 2 out of every 100 Catholic guys do indeed have them). I think he honestly doesn't know what he wants from girls. You know, I bet he isn't even complex. I bet he is just addled by the culture of choice.
Part of the problem of the post-war generations is too much choice, or (often) the illusion of too much choice. I doubt anyone asked my dad where he wanted to go to school. He was packed off to the same boarding school as his brother and told by the pre-Arrupe Jesuits how to be. If I remember this correctly, he won a scholarship to X sponsored by his father's company. That determined where he went to university. (There were no girls at this university.) He then won a scholarship to Y, so off he went to Y. Then he won a scholarship in Canada, so off he went to Canada. He met my mother there, and if it is true that it was love-at-first-sight for old Dad, as one of his pals told me 20 years later, he didn't have much choice there either. It's really lucky he wasn't called up and sent to Vietnam, something else that would not have been a choice.
All that said, my father--whom I personally consider the greatest catch of the twentieth century--did not marry until he was 29. TWENTY-NINE. And my mother was 23. TWENTY-THREE. Six year age difference! And you know what? I think you Searching Single youngsters should give the men your age who don't seem to know what they want in life a miss and try to meet men who are up to six years older. Because if you are under 25, chances are that the men your age do not know what they want in life yet. They are befuddled by so much choice or, with easy credit and tempting student loans and Catholic dating sites, the illusion of choice. Or they are so focused on their career path, they can't think about girls right now--unless THE girl suddenly appears. And almost never is this girl you.
Naturally you will worry, as girls have always worried, that older guys = unchaste guys, but that is not necessarily the case. You can't know unless you meet them and talk to them.
Well, what do you think? Is the way to cope with today's men-so-spoiled-for-choice-they-don't-know-what-they-want is to pass them by and intentionally meet older Single men, men who have already made bold choices that have determined the direction of their lives?
And, incidentally, do you think it would be better for parents to order their kids what to study at university? Is planning their kids' careers a responsibility parents ought to have?
Finally, remember Shakespeare's immortal words:
Sigh not so, but let them go,
and be you blithe and bonny,
converting all your sighs of woe
into hey nonny nonny!
Update: ONE HUNDRED READERS bought Ceremony of Innocence! Whee! Would Number 100 like to take a bow? Thank you all so much. Where I would be without my "Seraphic Singles" readers I can't imagine. Believe me, readers have given me as much as I have given readers, if not more.
Thursday, 21 November 2013
The Best Approach to Internet Dating I Ever Saw
When it comes to romance, I paradoxically advocate both trusting in the Lord to show you the way AND thinking strategically about how you present yourself in public.
I have been thinking a lot about how Calvinist Cath made such a great impression on her future fiancé without doing anything except being herself. Since a tenet of respectable Scottish Presbyterianism is not drawing attention to oneself, a value my ex-Protestant Scottish-Canadian mother tried to bang into my own head, I conclude that the secret was to be herself in public, in a social life that attracted the sort of men looking for women who wear their attractions quietly. Scottish Catholics, I think, are more likely to go for noise, dash and flirtation, Scottish Catholics being mostly of Irish or Polish descent.
My views on Scotland, incidentally, are so controversial Britain's most amusing conservative weekly refused to publish them, thus delaying my career by umpteen years. Woe.
But to get down to the subject of the day, a reader I'll call N sent me a link to the following, and I loved it so much I watched the whole 20 minutes, simply rapt. Thank you very much to N.
Now first of all I admit that I have an almost obsequious respect for women who are good at math and number-crunching because I seem to have a sort of numerical dyslexia. However, through a great deal of suffering and spiritual effort, I have managed to grasp the discipline of rooting myself in reality. This woman can both number-crunch and stare reality coolly in the face.
Second, this hard-working woman used internet dating not as a fun distraction and easy substitute for talking to men face-to-face, but as a sharp-edged tool to meet only those men most likely to approximate the Perfect Man for Her. Note that her number one criterion was that he be Jewish or, as she put it, Jew...ish. She has an advantage in that, almost alone of secular people, secular Jews still put a very high premium on marriage, especially marriage within their own community.
Third, she limited her search to her OWN CITY. This meant that instead of having drug-like semi-imaginary online relationships, she met potential suitors face-to-face ASAP. It also meant, incidentally, that she was unwilling to cash in everything she had--her family, local friends, her work, her career prospects--for a relationship that may or may not have turned into marriage.
(In case you are are thinking, "But what about you?", I did not come to Scotland to see if B.A. would make a good potential husband but to meet British online friends in person and to write the last part of my "Aelianus" trilogy, The Historical House of Scotland. Falling in love with B.A. was a surprise, and I had to cancel a date with a local man when I got back to Toronto.)
Fourth, she sucked up her pride and adjusted her profile to make it more man-friendly. For some reason, men seem to think "fun" is much more important and attractive than "fluent in Japanese". Ours not to reason why.
I particularly enjoyed her how-many-Jews-in-Philadelphia number-crunching. For the sake of local Catholic readers, I would do some how-many-church-attending-Roman-Catholics-in-Edinburgh number-crunching, were I not almost GUARANTEED to get it wrong. And, to be absolutely frank, were I Single I would not use a Catholic website but a Ginger website because although she is a delight your poor Auntie is a niche interest, appealing mostly to men who have a red-head fixation. Basically I would be looking for all the church-attending Roman Catholic in Edinburgh with a weakness for red-heads. I wonder if there are any besides B.A.? I am pretty sure the Bangladeshi chef who hit on me on the bus that Sunday (did I mention...?) was not a church-attending Roman Catholic. (That said, there were over 211,000 Catholics in Bangladesh in 2005, and these days it would probably be a lot nicer for them to be in Edinburgh.)
I have been thinking a lot about how Calvinist Cath made such a great impression on her future fiancé without doing anything except being herself. Since a tenet of respectable Scottish Presbyterianism is not drawing attention to oneself, a value my ex-Protestant Scottish-Canadian mother tried to bang into my own head, I conclude that the secret was to be herself in public, in a social life that attracted the sort of men looking for women who wear their attractions quietly. Scottish Catholics, I think, are more likely to go for noise, dash and flirtation, Scottish Catholics being mostly of Irish or Polish descent.
My views on Scotland, incidentally, are so controversial Britain's most amusing conservative weekly refused to publish them, thus delaying my career by umpteen years. Woe.
But to get down to the subject of the day, a reader I'll call N sent me a link to the following, and I loved it so much I watched the whole 20 minutes, simply rapt. Thank you very much to N.
Now first of all I admit that I have an almost obsequious respect for women who are good at math and number-crunching because I seem to have a sort of numerical dyslexia. However, through a great deal of suffering and spiritual effort, I have managed to grasp the discipline of rooting myself in reality. This woman can both number-crunch and stare reality coolly in the face.
Second, this hard-working woman used internet dating not as a fun distraction and easy substitute for talking to men face-to-face, but as a sharp-edged tool to meet only those men most likely to approximate the Perfect Man for Her. Note that her number one criterion was that he be Jewish or, as she put it, Jew...ish. She has an advantage in that, almost alone of secular people, secular Jews still put a very high premium on marriage, especially marriage within their own community.
Third, she limited her search to her OWN CITY. This meant that instead of having drug-like semi-imaginary online relationships, she met potential suitors face-to-face ASAP. It also meant, incidentally, that she was unwilling to cash in everything she had--her family, local friends, her work, her career prospects--for a relationship that may or may not have turned into marriage.
(In case you are are thinking, "But what about you?", I did not come to Scotland to see if B.A. would make a good potential husband but to meet British online friends in person and to write the last part of my "Aelianus" trilogy, The Historical House of Scotland. Falling in love with B.A. was a surprise, and I had to cancel a date with a local man when I got back to Toronto.)
Fourth, she sucked up her pride and adjusted her profile to make it more man-friendly. For some reason, men seem to think "fun" is much more important and attractive than "fluent in Japanese". Ours not to reason why.
I particularly enjoyed her how-many-Jews-in-Philadelphia number-crunching. For the sake of local Catholic readers, I would do some how-many-church-attending-Roman-Catholics-in-Edinburgh number-crunching, were I not almost GUARANTEED to get it wrong. And, to be absolutely frank, were I Single I would not use a Catholic website but a Ginger website because although she is a delight your poor Auntie is a niche interest, appealing mostly to men who have a red-head fixation. Basically I would be looking for all the church-attending Roman Catholic in Edinburgh with a weakness for red-heads. I wonder if there are any besides B.A.? I am pretty sure the Bangladeshi chef who hit on me on the bus that Sunday (did I mention...?) was not a church-attending Roman Catholic. (That said, there were over 211,000 Catholics in Bangladesh in 2005, and these days it would probably be a lot nicer for them to be in Edinburgh.)
Monday, 14 October 2013
Auntier Seraphic & Fair Chance
Dear Auntie Seraphic,
First of all, thank you so much for your blog! Love it! It's a breath of fresh air sometimes.
So here's the deal:
Small school, Christian student body. Most students take dating fairly seriously- as something that should lead to marriage. (Hence- "ring by spring") While this is quite an appropriate outlook, it seriously hampers the dating scene here. Making it pretty much non-existent. Guys don't ask girls out, even for a "you're kinda cool, let's get to know each other over coffee" kind of date. It's as if going on a date meant you were getting married (since many couples tend to date very seriously and are engaged by graduation). My friend at another university was very surprised to hear that I had not gone on any dates at school. It just doesn't happen here. To be fair, we end up with some great guys friends (who are definitely friend-zoned), and most of our serious couples started off by being friends.
Given all that, I [recently] had a conversation with a male acquaintance at a school function [...] [My] radar started going off as the conversation progressed- mostly small talk, but still. We have some [...] interests in common, but I'm just not interested if he tries to pursue. (Though I do give him credit for picking up a conversation. I am told I can be somewhat intimidating, or at least appear very poised and confident- just so you know what the guys have to deal with. "Approach with caution or a lot of confidence.")
Anyway, this got me thinking: how do you navigate these types of situations if they arise in college or later in life? On one hand, you don't want to shut guys down right away because they had the guts to ask a girl out or talk to her, which is what we'd really want happening on campus. I figured that, unless they're obviously on a "wife hunt" or total creepers, it wouldn't hurt to go on a date, give the guy a shot, and enjoy it. But on the other hand, if you're not really interested, would that just be leading them on? It's just really confusing, especially in this super serious dating environment.
Sorry if you've already covered this on your blog- you could just send me some links.
God Bless!
Fair Chance
Dear Fair Chance,
I stand by my "It's just coffee" position. Whatever the courtship culture looks like at your college, the experience of every girl and guy there is going to be unique. And I don't like this "ring by spring" attitude because it suggest couples feel pressured to get engaged and marry. Disillusionment will bring divorce, and I am all about preventing disillusionment and divorce.
I have written many times that the most attractive qualities are joy and confidence. Well, part of confidence is saying "Yes" to what you want and "No" to what you don't want. Therefore, if a man asks you out for coffee, and you want to have coffee with him--for ANY reason (you're cold, you need a coffee, he's funny and you could use a laugh)--then have the coffee. If the same man wants to hold your hand, but you don't want to hold his hand, give his hand a friendly squeeze and let go.
I do not think there is anything wrong with spending time with men you like because they are friendly and nice to talk to, as long as you do not feel this means you HAVE to do something else. You don't. You should, however, make a mild protest when they offer to pay, and insist on paying sometimes, especially when you intuit that a guy has a crush on you. That way he won't feel used when he gets over it.
Above all, you are not a failure if you don't get "a ring by spring". Sorry to diss your college culture, but what nonsense! That kind of attitude can ruin lives. Some people just aren't ready or called to be married right out of college.
I hope this is helpful!
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
Now that I'm 39+, my brain synapses are totally done joining up, I went to therapy for five years and I have a diploma in Lonergan Studies, it is all too easy to wonder why 20-something girls jump from "we had a conversation" to "he'll ask me out" and from "he asked me out" to "he'll force me at gunpoint to marry him." When I was 20-something, my brain zipped from A to Z too.
Too many young women make up their minds about their future with a man in fifteen seconds. Either he's cute, so they're getting married one day, or he's not so cute, so they aren't. It's like shoe shopping or, worse, skimming through faces on a dating website. I am personally a big fan of cute, but let's get real. Not all good guys resemble actors and not all cute guys are good.
In my experience, guys think girls are pretty or they don't, whereas girls either think a guy is cute, come to think of a guy as cute, or stop thinking of a cute guy as cute when it turns out he has the personality of either a dust-mop or a hyena. And this is why I think women should go out with a guy for coffee before dismissing him as "Meh. Not interested." Nice boys are usually uncomplicated and ask girls out for coffee just because they think the girls are attractive and kind. (Bad men are often complicated, too complicated for this post.) Being thought attractive and kind is flattering. Personally, I like best those men who think I am attractive and kind. Men of such sophisticated and discerning tastes are rare. Their value is beyond that of rubies. Did I mention the young Bangladeshi chef who tried to chat me up on the bus that Sunday? Oh, I think I did.
At the same time, of course, I am for women doing exactly what they want to do, as long as it is not against God's laws. There is no divine law saying "You should not have coffee with a near-stranger you're not prepared to marry." If a man seriously thinks a woman has agreed to marry him because he bought her a coffee, he's either insane or doing that girl thing of going straight from A to Z instead of, like most men, just plodding along from A to B to C to D.
Men don't like being "led on"--that's true. But on the other hand, they want to be given a chance. So for heaven's sake give the ones who have the good taste and the manly courage to actually ask you out a chance. It's just coffee.
First of all, thank you so much for your blog! Love it! It's a breath of fresh air sometimes.
So here's the deal:
Small school, Christian student body. Most students take dating fairly seriously- as something that should lead to marriage. (Hence- "ring by spring") While this is quite an appropriate outlook, it seriously hampers the dating scene here. Making it pretty much non-existent. Guys don't ask girls out, even for a "you're kinda cool, let's get to know each other over coffee" kind of date. It's as if going on a date meant you were getting married (since many couples tend to date very seriously and are engaged by graduation). My friend at another university was very surprised to hear that I had not gone on any dates at school. It just doesn't happen here. To be fair, we end up with some great guys friends (who are definitely friend-zoned), and most of our serious couples started off by being friends.
Given all that, I [recently] had a conversation with a male acquaintance at a school function [...] [My] radar started going off as the conversation progressed- mostly small talk, but still. We have some [...] interests in common, but I'm just not interested if he tries to pursue. (Though I do give him credit for picking up a conversation. I am told I can be somewhat intimidating, or at least appear very poised and confident- just so you know what the guys have to deal with. "Approach with caution or a lot of confidence.")
Anyway, this got me thinking: how do you navigate these types of situations if they arise in college or later in life? On one hand, you don't want to shut guys down right away because they had the guts to ask a girl out or talk to her, which is what we'd really want happening on campus. I figured that, unless they're obviously on a "wife hunt" or total creepers, it wouldn't hurt to go on a date, give the guy a shot, and enjoy it. But on the other hand, if you're not really interested, would that just be leading them on? It's just really confusing, especially in this super serious dating environment.
Sorry if you've already covered this on your blog- you could just send me some links.
God Bless!
Fair Chance
Dear Fair Chance,
I stand by my "It's just coffee" position. Whatever the courtship culture looks like at your college, the experience of every girl and guy there is going to be unique. And I don't like this "ring by spring" attitude because it suggest couples feel pressured to get engaged and marry. Disillusionment will bring divorce, and I am all about preventing disillusionment and divorce.
I have written many times that the most attractive qualities are joy and confidence. Well, part of confidence is saying "Yes" to what you want and "No" to what you don't want. Therefore, if a man asks you out for coffee, and you want to have coffee with him--for ANY reason (you're cold, you need a coffee, he's funny and you could use a laugh)--then have the coffee. If the same man wants to hold your hand, but you don't want to hold his hand, give his hand a friendly squeeze and let go.
I do not think there is anything wrong with spending time with men you like because they are friendly and nice to talk to, as long as you do not feel this means you HAVE to do something else. You don't. You should, however, make a mild protest when they offer to pay, and insist on paying sometimes, especially when you intuit that a guy has a crush on you. That way he won't feel used when he gets over it.
Above all, you are not a failure if you don't get "a ring by spring". Sorry to diss your college culture, but what nonsense! That kind of attitude can ruin lives. Some people just aren't ready or called to be married right out of college.
I hope this is helpful!
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
Now that I'm 39+, my brain synapses are totally done joining up, I went to therapy for five years and I have a diploma in Lonergan Studies, it is all too easy to wonder why 20-something girls jump from "we had a conversation" to "he'll ask me out" and from "he asked me out" to "he'll force me at gunpoint to marry him." When I was 20-something, my brain zipped from A to Z too.
Too many young women make up their minds about their future with a man in fifteen seconds. Either he's cute, so they're getting married one day, or he's not so cute, so they aren't. It's like shoe shopping or, worse, skimming through faces on a dating website. I am personally a big fan of cute, but let's get real. Not all good guys resemble actors and not all cute guys are good.
In my experience, guys think girls are pretty or they don't, whereas girls either think a guy is cute, come to think of a guy as cute, or stop thinking of a cute guy as cute when it turns out he has the personality of either a dust-mop or a hyena. And this is why I think women should go out with a guy for coffee before dismissing him as "Meh. Not interested." Nice boys are usually uncomplicated and ask girls out for coffee just because they think the girls are attractive and kind. (Bad men are often complicated, too complicated for this post.) Being thought attractive and kind is flattering. Personally, I like best those men who think I am attractive and kind. Men of such sophisticated and discerning tastes are rare. Their value is beyond that of rubies. Did I mention the young Bangladeshi chef who tried to chat me up on the bus that Sunday? Oh, I think I did.
At the same time, of course, I am for women doing exactly what they want to do, as long as it is not against God's laws. There is no divine law saying "You should not have coffee with a near-stranger you're not prepared to marry." If a man seriously thinks a woman has agreed to marry him because he bought her a coffee, he's either insane or doing that girl thing of going straight from A to Z instead of, like most men, just plodding along from A to B to C to D.
Men don't like being "led on"--that's true. But on the other hand, they want to be given a chance. So for heaven's sake give the ones who have the good taste and the manly courage to actually ask you out a chance. It's just coffee.
Friday, 4 October 2013
Dating in an Age of Austerity 2
The following dialogue is mostly somewhat fictional, and Trad Guy is a composite. And since Trad Guy is likely to make proper (i.e. women) readers mad, imagine that he is as beautiful as the day. Super-handsome. Ryan Gosling or whoever. That way, you won't punch the computer.
SCENE: A tree-lined street in a lovely residential neighbourhood in Edinburgh. Large nineteenth century houses abound.
Trad Guy: Feminist! Feminist! Feminist! Feminist!
Seraphic: Stop that.
Trad Guy: Feminist! Feminist! Feminist! Feminist!
Seraphic: Stop it!
Trad Guy: Feminist! Feminist! Feminist! Feminist!
Seraphic: If you don't cut that out, I won't bake any more cookies.
Trad Guy: Hmm. I like cookies.
Seraphic: Of course you do.
Trad Guy: Feminist.
Seraphic: That's it! No cookies!
Trad Guy: Aw.
Seraphic: How many times do I have to tell you that feminist is the insult nec plus ultra in local trad circles!?
Trad Guy: Is it?
Seraphic: Yes.
Trad Guy: Well, that's GOOD!
Seraphic: I'm not so sure. And I don't know why you guys call me a feminist anyway. Fate has conspired to make me, despite my best efforts and student debt, an Edinburgh housewife. I cook. I clean. I go to church. I write funny things for a Catholic newspaper. This does not scream "feminist" to me.
Trad Guy: It's your views.
Seraphic: My views or the fact that I HAVE views?
Trad Guy (smirking): Well.....
Seraphic: NO COOKIES!
Trad Guy: Well, listen, there's this nonsense you write about men paying on dates.
Seraphic: Are you high? I say that men SHOULD pay on dates!
Trad Guy: Well, why should men pay on dates?
Seraphic: They pay on dates to show it is a date, and not just a friend thing.
Trad Guy: Aw. That makes no sense.
Seraphic: It does too make sense. Now that men and women hang out so much outside school or home, there has to be something to signal that a guy likes a girl more than just a friend, and if he buys her something--something SMALL--or pays for her dinner, then she knows he likes her more than just a friend, and that they are not just hanging out, it is a date.
Trad Guy: Do you know how much restaurant dinners COST in Edinburgh?
Seraphic: That's not the point. The cost is not the point!
Trad Guy: Why should the guy pay when the woman has a job and makes as much money as he does? Maybe she makes more money than he does. It's not fair. She has the money, and still the man pays.
Seraphic: It's not about who has the money. It is about the symbolism.
Trad Guy: What is the symbolism? The symbol is that the man pays. Which means that she expects him to be the provider even though she is the one who is making the same money or more.
Seraphic: Listen, you think women don't pay on dates? If a woman really likes a guy, she might buy a new dress. That could be £60 right there. And maybe she gets her hair done--which is way cheaper in the UK than in Canada, so that's £25--or gets her nails done, which is more expensive in the UK, so £30 (outrageous). So now she has paid 85 to 90 quid on this date before it has even started. So if she pays for half this date, she has paid more for this date than the man who asked her, and that's crazy.
Trad Guy: Why?
Seraphic: Because the man is supposed to pay on dates!
Trad Guy: Why should the man pay on dates with feminists?
Seraphic: What feminists?
Trad Guy: If the women have that kind of money, for the dress, and the hair and the nails, then they are feminists.
Seraphic: WHAT? Why?
Trad Guy: Because they have jobs.
Seraphic: I'm pushing you in front of a car now.
Trad Guy: Aw.
Seraphic: I am sorry to burst your middle-class bubble, but most women in the history of womankind have had jobs. This idea that women only entered the workforce after Gloria Steinem snapped their chains in the 1960s is complete nonsense. My grandmother, born in 1904, worked. My other grandmother worked. Her mother worked. Women don't work because we're feminists but because we need to eat.
Trad Guy: You don't have a job and you eat. You husband makes sure you eat.
Seraphic: I have three jobs, and admittedly they don't pay very well, but my husband is okay with that and I don't want to talk about it because I am ashamed that I don't earn more.
Trad Guy: Because you are a feminist.
Seraphic: I'm not talking to you anymore.
Trad Guy: Aw.
Seraphic: (dead silence)
Seraphic: (dead silence)
Seraphic: (dead silence)
Trad Guy: Listen, I agree with the principle that the man should always pay. But I don't think it is fair that women embrace this rule and also the tenets of feminism. If they want to be feminists, even moderate feminists, then they should pay on dates. The more feminist a woman is, the more she should pay on dates. That way, the man would know how feminist she is, and so a man who wanted to marry a feminist would marry the woman who pays, and the man who wanted to marry a trad girl would marry the girl who doesn't pay. And everyone would live, date and marry happily ever after. But for a woman to be a feminist and expect a man to pay is having her cake and eating it too. It's doublethink. I hate doublethink.
Seraphic: I'm still mad, and I'm still not talking to you.
Trad Guy: That is so like a woman.
Update: Hilary White told me I have misrepresented Trad Men. She says that Trad Men are all very attuned to sexual dynamics and the symbolism of sexuality, and my composite is not a Trad Man but more like a Men's Rights Man. She also says I am a feminist, but I was too chicken to ask her what she meant.
SCENE: A tree-lined street in a lovely residential neighbourhood in Edinburgh. Large nineteenth century houses abound.
Trad Guy: Feminist! Feminist! Feminist! Feminist!
Seraphic: Stop that.
Trad Guy: Feminist! Feminist! Feminist! Feminist!
Seraphic: Stop it!
Trad Guy: Feminist! Feminist! Feminist! Feminist!
Seraphic: If you don't cut that out, I won't bake any more cookies.
Trad Guy: Hmm. I like cookies.
Seraphic: Of course you do.
Trad Guy: Feminist.
Seraphic: That's it! No cookies!
Trad Guy: Aw.
Seraphic: How many times do I have to tell you that feminist is the insult nec plus ultra in local trad circles!?
Trad Guy: Is it?
Seraphic: Yes.
Trad Guy: Well, that's GOOD!
Seraphic: I'm not so sure. And I don't know why you guys call me a feminist anyway. Fate has conspired to make me, despite my best efforts and student debt, an Edinburgh housewife. I cook. I clean. I go to church. I write funny things for a Catholic newspaper. This does not scream "feminist" to me.
Trad Guy: It's your views.
Seraphic: My views or the fact that I HAVE views?
Trad Guy (smirking): Well.....
Seraphic: NO COOKIES!
Trad Guy: Well, listen, there's this nonsense you write about men paying on dates.
Seraphic: Are you high? I say that men SHOULD pay on dates!
Trad Guy: Well, why should men pay on dates?
Seraphic: They pay on dates to show it is a date, and not just a friend thing.
Trad Guy: Aw. That makes no sense.
Seraphic: It does too make sense. Now that men and women hang out so much outside school or home, there has to be something to signal that a guy likes a girl more than just a friend, and if he buys her something--something SMALL--or pays for her dinner, then she knows he likes her more than just a friend, and that they are not just hanging out, it is a date.
Trad Guy: Do you know how much restaurant dinners COST in Edinburgh?
Seraphic: That's not the point. The cost is not the point!
Trad Guy: Why should the guy pay when the woman has a job and makes as much money as he does? Maybe she makes more money than he does. It's not fair. She has the money, and still the man pays.
Seraphic: It's not about who has the money. It is about the symbolism.
Trad Guy: What is the symbolism? The symbol is that the man pays. Which means that she expects him to be the provider even though she is the one who is making the same money or more.
Seraphic: Listen, you think women don't pay on dates? If a woman really likes a guy, she might buy a new dress. That could be £60 right there. And maybe she gets her hair done--which is way cheaper in the UK than in Canada, so that's £25--or gets her nails done, which is more expensive in the UK, so £30 (outrageous). So now she has paid 85 to 90 quid on this date before it has even started. So if she pays for half this date, she has paid more for this date than the man who asked her, and that's crazy.
Trad Guy: Why?
Seraphic: Because the man is supposed to pay on dates!
Trad Guy: Why should the man pay on dates with feminists?
Seraphic: What feminists?
Trad Guy: If the women have that kind of money, for the dress, and the hair and the nails, then they are feminists.
Seraphic: WHAT? Why?
Trad Guy: Because they have jobs.
Seraphic: I'm pushing you in front of a car now.
Trad Guy: Aw.
Seraphic: I am sorry to burst your middle-class bubble, but most women in the history of womankind have had jobs. This idea that women only entered the workforce after Gloria Steinem snapped their chains in the 1960s is complete nonsense. My grandmother, born in 1904, worked. My other grandmother worked. Her mother worked. Women don't work because we're feminists but because we need to eat.
Trad Guy: You don't have a job and you eat. You husband makes sure you eat.
Seraphic: I have three jobs, and admittedly they don't pay very well, but my husband is okay with that and I don't want to talk about it because I am ashamed that I don't earn more.
Trad Guy: Because you are a feminist.
Seraphic: I'm not talking to you anymore.
Trad Guy: Aw.
Seraphic: (dead silence)
Seraphic: (dead silence)
Seraphic: (dead silence)
Trad Guy: Listen, I agree with the principle that the man should always pay. But I don't think it is fair that women embrace this rule and also the tenets of feminism. If they want to be feminists, even moderate feminists, then they should pay on dates. The more feminist a woman is, the more she should pay on dates. That way, the man would know how feminist she is, and so a man who wanted to marry a feminist would marry the woman who pays, and the man who wanted to marry a trad girl would marry the girl who doesn't pay. And everyone would live, date and marry happily ever after. But for a woman to be a feminist and expect a man to pay is having her cake and eating it too. It's doublethink. I hate doublethink.
Seraphic: I'm still mad, and I'm still not talking to you.
Trad Guy: That is so like a woman.
Update: Hilary White told me I have misrepresented Trad Men. She says that Trad Men are all very attuned to sexual dynamics and the symbolism of sexuality, and my composite is not a Trad Man but more like a Men's Rights Man. She also says I am a feminist, but I was too chicken to ask her what she meant.
Thursday, 3 October 2013
Dating in an Age of Austerity Part 1
The price of a woman in my town is two drinks.
Not all the women, of course. Not the blonde middle-aged advocate getting into a cab, or the friendly, pudgy cashier at the supermarket. Probably not the willowy Polish girl waiting at the bus stop, and definitely not the bevy of old ladies tidying the Cathedral. And not even the invisible occupants of the warrens of Tollcross who, I assume, are paid in cash.
No, I am thinking of the flocks of the dyed-orange girls in micro-minis teetering on stilettos down George Street to the expensive bar or dance club of their choice, each and every one of them with parents, a life story and an immortal soul. And the price of some of those girls--again, not all--is two drinks. The task of the men who frequent these bars and clubs is to figure out which girls will go that cheap and to whom.
The girls would vigorously deny that they are for sale. They are modern, responsible women with jobs and maybe even children (currently at home with Mam) or with excellent transcripts or fledgling careers. They just want to have fun, to blow off some steam, to have some adventures, and it's none of our ***** business. If men offer them drinks, well, why shouldn't they take them, if the men look like they are good for a blether and a laugh? And if the men offer them a second drink, well, maybe they shouldn't, but maybe they will just this once because these are good guys, not like some of those other blokes in the bar, and their conversation is exciting, and actually they rather fancy them.
The men are pleased. The air is electric with male competition, but they have done very well for themselves. This is an expensive bar, and these are carefully groomed girls who put a lot of thought into their clothes, make-up and carefully messed up hair. They look clean. Chances are they are clean. And although these attractive girls could have said no to their drinks, definitely to the second drinks, and accepted someone else's drinks instead, they didn't, so chances are that the girls have chosen them, and if they went home with them in an hour that would be flattering.
Two cocktails on George Street = £3.95-£12.00 x 2 = £6.90 - £24.00
What a deal.
"If modern, responsible women with jobs and lives and an interest in grooming go for £24 a night, what is the point of dating?" think our lads about town. Going to a bar, even an expensive bar on George Street, is relatively cheap, especially as the most desirable women, i.e. young and small, cannot drink all that much before they fall down. Dating, however, is ruddy expensive.
Two dinners on George Street with wine = £36 minimum That's just risotto cakes and a glass of wine for both. Hmm. Not a lot to eat or drink, so not really an impressive date. Really, we're looking at £50 for a dinner for two. (Incidentally, minimum wage in the U.K. is £6.31/hr. Monthly rent of a central Edinburgh flat is £600/m before utilities and council tax.)
Two tickets to films in Edinburgh (Art cinema): £16.40
Two tickets to film in Edinburgh (Multiplex): £20.00 (approx)
And as they say, candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker. And unlike expensive, jaded and possibly diseased prostitutes, lots of ordinary, pretty, young women are available for £24. So why, I was asked by a cheerful realist, should men date?
After I picked my jaw off the pavement and carefully hinged it back into my skull, I made vague protests about "nice girls" and marriage and immortal souls. And then, when at last I figured out how I felt, I felt really mad. Maybe there's a reason why "respectable women" were so terrible to "tramps" and shunned them like crazy. Until the sexual revolution, the most potent factor influencing young men to get married, even more potent than parental nagging, was sexual desire coupled with distaste for prostitutes. Prostitutes could be fun, and provided variety, but ick. Fun girls in bars, though, are not icky, and to suggest that they are is very judgmental, bigoted and anti-feminist. How dare you. But now the number one problem for men that only scary marriage was supposed to solve can be solved without it. Which means "respectable women" (i.e. women who would have been considered respectable before 1970; we're all respectable now, on paper) have a much, much harder time getting married.
In English-speaking countries, it is indeed traditional for men to pay on dates. But unfortunately there is sometimes some confusion as to what they are actually paying for. How do you impress upon men that you are not "that kind of girl" when thousands of girls who look and dress like you ARE "that kind of girl" and think nothing of it? And to make all this more confusing, real, professional, prostitutes call their appointments dates. "Wanna date?" is apparently the phrase with which prostitutes solicit in Ontario, and one advert offering legal advice to battered prostitutes asked "Had a bad date?"
In some European countries, women actually resist the idea that men should pay on dates. I was told this was true of Germany: apparently German women become instantly suspicious of a man's intentions if he buys her food or drink. I don't know what that is, although I wonder if the last World War might have had something to do with it.
And now that I have thoroughly depressed you, I promise to write something more cheerful about paying on dates tomorrow. But if you have any great arguments for young men of no (or little) religious faith why they should date properly instead of taking home cute drunk girls from bars, feel free to write them in the combox. Keep it clean.
Not all the women, of course. Not the blonde middle-aged advocate getting into a cab, or the friendly, pudgy cashier at the supermarket. Probably not the willowy Polish girl waiting at the bus stop, and definitely not the bevy of old ladies tidying the Cathedral. And not even the invisible occupants of the warrens of Tollcross who, I assume, are paid in cash.
No, I am thinking of the flocks of the dyed-orange girls in micro-minis teetering on stilettos down George Street to the expensive bar or dance club of their choice, each and every one of them with parents, a life story and an immortal soul. And the price of some of those girls--again, not all--is two drinks. The task of the men who frequent these bars and clubs is to figure out which girls will go that cheap and to whom.
The girls would vigorously deny that they are for sale. They are modern, responsible women with jobs and maybe even children (currently at home with Mam) or with excellent transcripts or fledgling careers. They just want to have fun, to blow off some steam, to have some adventures, and it's none of our ***** business. If men offer them drinks, well, why shouldn't they take them, if the men look like they are good for a blether and a laugh? And if the men offer them a second drink, well, maybe they shouldn't, but maybe they will just this once because these are good guys, not like some of those other blokes in the bar, and their conversation is exciting, and actually they rather fancy them.
The men are pleased. The air is electric with male competition, but they have done very well for themselves. This is an expensive bar, and these are carefully groomed girls who put a lot of thought into their clothes, make-up and carefully messed up hair. They look clean. Chances are they are clean. And although these attractive girls could have said no to their drinks, definitely to the second drinks, and accepted someone else's drinks instead, they didn't, so chances are that the girls have chosen them, and if they went home with them in an hour that would be flattering.
Two cocktails on George Street = £3.95-£12.00 x 2 = £6.90 - £24.00
What a deal.
"If modern, responsible women with jobs and lives and an interest in grooming go for £24 a night, what is the point of dating?" think our lads about town. Going to a bar, even an expensive bar on George Street, is relatively cheap, especially as the most desirable women, i.e. young and small, cannot drink all that much before they fall down. Dating, however, is ruddy expensive.
Two dinners on George Street with wine = £36 minimum That's just risotto cakes and a glass of wine for both. Hmm. Not a lot to eat or drink, so not really an impressive date. Really, we're looking at £50 for a dinner for two. (Incidentally, minimum wage in the U.K. is £6.31/hr. Monthly rent of a central Edinburgh flat is £600/m before utilities and council tax.)
Two tickets to films in Edinburgh (Art cinema): £16.40
Two tickets to film in Edinburgh (Multiplex): £20.00 (approx)
And as they say, candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker. And unlike expensive, jaded and possibly diseased prostitutes, lots of ordinary, pretty, young women are available for £24. So why, I was asked by a cheerful realist, should men date?
After I picked my jaw off the pavement and carefully hinged it back into my skull, I made vague protests about "nice girls" and marriage and immortal souls. And then, when at last I figured out how I felt, I felt really mad. Maybe there's a reason why "respectable women" were so terrible to "tramps" and shunned them like crazy. Until the sexual revolution, the most potent factor influencing young men to get married, even more potent than parental nagging, was sexual desire coupled with distaste for prostitutes. Prostitutes could be fun, and provided variety, but ick. Fun girls in bars, though, are not icky, and to suggest that they are is very judgmental, bigoted and anti-feminist. How dare you. But now the number one problem for men that only scary marriage was supposed to solve can be solved without it. Which means "respectable women" (i.e. women who would have been considered respectable before 1970; we're all respectable now, on paper) have a much, much harder time getting married.
In English-speaking countries, it is indeed traditional for men to pay on dates. But unfortunately there is sometimes some confusion as to what they are actually paying for. How do you impress upon men that you are not "that kind of girl" when thousands of girls who look and dress like you ARE "that kind of girl" and think nothing of it? And to make all this more confusing, real, professional, prostitutes call their appointments dates. "Wanna date?" is apparently the phrase with which prostitutes solicit in Ontario, and one advert offering legal advice to battered prostitutes asked "Had a bad date?"
In some European countries, women actually resist the idea that men should pay on dates. I was told this was true of Germany: apparently German women become instantly suspicious of a man's intentions if he buys her food or drink. I don't know what that is, although I wonder if the last World War might have had something to do with it.
And now that I have thoroughly depressed you, I promise to write something more cheerful about paying on dates tomorrow. But if you have any great arguments for young men of no (or little) religious faith why they should date properly instead of taking home cute drunk girls from bars, feel free to write them in the combox. Keep it clean.
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
When Pushy Older Ladies Make Their Sons Call You
Oh la la. I have had yet another email from a Would-Be Seraphic Single who has been telephoned, sight-unseen, by the son of a lady who thinks she is da bomb. (Older ladies she meets often think this.) The problem is, from a blogging point of view, is that the details of this email are so particular, I fear the writer's recognition and capture by her friends. ("Hey! I read your letter on Auntie Seraphic's blog!)
That reminds me, if you go to Notre Dame, Steubie or Christendom, you basically have to tell me so I can work extra-hard to disguise you. I mean it.
So instead of publishing this letter, I will just tell you the reader's concerns:
1. Blind dates are scary and embarrassing, and Reader has agreed to go on one with Nice But Pushy Lady's Son.
2. Nice But Pushy Lady's Son is merely culturally Catholic, and Reader doesn't want to teach any more catechism in her spare time.
3. Who should pay? If, while they stand at the counter, she pays, will he think she is a feminist?
4. Reader is looking forward to an appointment with a much more attractive prospect later this month.
And here's what I said:
Dear [Reader I'm Shortly Going to Blog About],
I feel for you. It's an embarrassing situation! The bright spot for me is that NBPL thinks you are a wonderful girl she would be happy to see her son with. For a woman to want to give you her baby lamb--that's a big compliment. Ditto for all those other ladies. Say... I have this spiritual son, aged 25.... (Just kidding!)
Let me look at these fears and see what we can do to make life more bearable.
1. Blind dates are indeed frightening and embarrassing. My last one was set up by a Korean girl I was helping with her English with a young university professor named George. She called him "Professor George." If you were reading at the time, you might remember that I got all my readers to vote on whether I should go on this blind date. (Then-Reader B.A. said no.)
Anyway, I survived. As you see. Professor George was Greek Orthodox, so we fought about religion over pierogi at the local Ukrainian bakery--a public place I know very, very well. Dear me. And now I laugh merrily. At the time I was thinking, "Oh well. At least my next blog post is writing itself!"
You could make the blind date less blind by seeing if Sonny-Boy is on Facebook. Google-stalk!
2. It's amazing how culturally Catholic men snap into shape if they form a real attachment to a religious Catholic girl. All that underlying stuff from baptism, etc., seems to start working like yeast. The religious girl doesn't have to (and shouldn't) get all catechetical on him. All she has to do is look pretty and be unbendingly firm about all moral issues and go to Church on Sunday and answer his [religion] questions, [if he asks], without making a big deal of it.
3. Who pays? This whole thing is NBPL's idea, so she should darn well pay. But I recommend going dutch on this one. The guy didn't ask you out of his own free will, and he may be feeling rather put upon and bossed about by women, so if you go dutch you don't (A) look like you are profiting from it (cranky men do think that way*) or (B) act like his mom by paying for him.
I once went on a date with a guy who really, honestly, forgot to bring his wallet, but was too frightened to tell me. So in the end I paid for everything. Dating is awful. [What is good is discovering you are in love with a friend, and that he loves you too. That is the best. So concentrate on making friends--the more friends, the better.]
4. Hooray for Mr Fabulous! Listen, this blind date thing will be just coffee. Or a walk in the park. Or something more creative, like going to a free concert, or a museum, or a science centre, or whatever you guys agree on. You could discuss it on the phone. "Let's see. What do we have in common?" You aren't going to be made to marry Scooter at gun point. He might make a good friend. He might make a good business contact.
I hope you are feeling better. There's nothing like a good night's sleep to kill angst. Joy cometh in the morning.
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
*UPDATE: This may sound weird, but even some trad guysare heavily resentful of don't like the idea that they should pay on dates. If they are absolutely crazy about a girl, they aren't. But if it is dating-on-spec, they sometimes are. I once got a speech about this why dating is out of date that seared my feminine soul. Eeek! One day I may repeat it word-for-word from memory, and your feminine souls can be seared too.
That reminds me, if you go to Notre Dame, Steubie or Christendom, you basically have to tell me so I can work extra-hard to disguise you. I mean it.
So instead of publishing this letter, I will just tell you the reader's concerns:
1. Blind dates are scary and embarrassing, and Reader has agreed to go on one with Nice But Pushy Lady's Son.
2. Nice But Pushy Lady's Son is merely culturally Catholic, and Reader doesn't want to teach any more catechism in her spare time.
3. Who should pay? If, while they stand at the counter, she pays, will he think she is a feminist?
4. Reader is looking forward to an appointment with a much more attractive prospect later this month.
And here's what I said:
Dear [Reader I'm Shortly Going to Blog About],
I feel for you. It's an embarrassing situation! The bright spot for me is that NBPL thinks you are a wonderful girl she would be happy to see her son with. For a woman to want to give you her baby lamb--that's a big compliment. Ditto for all those other ladies. Say... I have this spiritual son, aged 25.... (Just kidding!)
Let me look at these fears and see what we can do to make life more bearable.
1. Blind dates are indeed frightening and embarrassing. My last one was set up by a Korean girl I was helping with her English with a young university professor named George. She called him "Professor George." If you were reading at the time, you might remember that I got all my readers to vote on whether I should go on this blind date. (Then-Reader B.A. said no.)
Anyway, I survived. As you see. Professor George was Greek Orthodox, so we fought about religion over pierogi at the local Ukrainian bakery--a public place I know very, very well. Dear me. And now I laugh merrily. At the time I was thinking, "Oh well. At least my next blog post is writing itself!"
You could make the blind date less blind by seeing if Sonny-Boy is on Facebook. Google-stalk!
2. It's amazing how culturally Catholic men snap into shape if they form a real attachment to a religious Catholic girl. All that underlying stuff from baptism, etc., seems to start working like yeast. The religious girl doesn't have to (and shouldn't) get all catechetical on him. All she has to do is look pretty and be unbendingly firm about all moral issues and go to Church on Sunday and answer his [religion] questions, [if he asks], without making a big deal of it.
3. Who pays? This whole thing is NBPL's idea, so she should darn well pay. But I recommend going dutch on this one. The guy didn't ask you out of his own free will, and he may be feeling rather put upon and bossed about by women, so if you go dutch you don't (A) look like you are profiting from it (cranky men do think that way*) or (B) act like his mom by paying for him.
I once went on a date with a guy who really, honestly, forgot to bring his wallet, but was too frightened to tell me. So in the end I paid for everything. Dating is awful. [What is good is discovering you are in love with a friend, and that he loves you too. That is the best. So concentrate on making friends--the more friends, the better.]
4. Hooray for Mr Fabulous! Listen, this blind date thing will be just coffee. Or a walk in the park. Or something more creative, like going to a free concert, or a museum, or a science centre, or whatever you guys agree on. You could discuss it on the phone. "Let's see. What do we have in common?" You aren't going to be made to marry Scooter at gun point. He might make a good friend. He might make a good business contact.
I hope you are feeling better. There's nothing like a good night's sleep to kill angst. Joy cometh in the morning.
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
*UPDATE: This may sound weird, but even some trad guys
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
Auntie Seraphic & Had a Lousy Date
This is the saddest thing I have read since I read about the poor baby elephant whose mother stomped on it. It's just so.... What is wrong with the world? Argh! Sexual Revolution, I hate you so much!
Note to men: Girls won't slap you. Women don't slap men anymore. We're afraid if we slap you, you will punch our lights out. (That said, I have been known to take that risk.)
Dear Auntie Seraphic,
I'm not really asking for advice, now that it's after the fact, so much as relating a story thinking you may have some advice to cull from it and post on your blog for other girls, since I wish I had had some (or a reminder, if you've posted on this already) beforehand!
I recently started a new job, and there was an orientation meeting for all the new hires. There was a guy there, with whom I didn't have much interaction during the meeting. But on our lunch break lunch, we both ended up at the same fast food place. He was sitting at a table nearby, and because we were supposed to sort of know each other, and because I thought it'd be nice to get to know someone, I went over to his table.
So, we chatted a bit-- the normal "get-to-know-you" stuff like where we had lived previous to our current town, previous jobs, that sort of thing...
Later, before the meeting ended, he asked if he could give me his number. He was pretty cute and seemed like a nice guy (a little over-the-top gentlemanly, even), so I took his and went ahead and gave him mine as well. I was pretty excited and flattered about it, and hoped he would call or text at least some time that week.
Well, he texted me later that evening. I was surprised, but still happy to be receiving attention from someone I would consider dating. He continued texting me over the next couple days until he said, "It would be nice to see you again," and asked me to go to dinner and a movie with him that weekend. This seems innocuous enough, but I think such a standard date may have been a small, red flag in retrospect.
Well, I was very excited. I even bought a new dress. He offered to pick me up, but I declined and we agreed to meet at the theater.
Now, I just want to remind you that I have met this person once before in my entire life, and the sum of our conversations could fit within 45 minutes, excluding texts. But the first thing he did when he saw me was hug me. I don't like being touched by people I don't know well, but I told myself that that is probably a normal thing to do, so I went with it. Then, when I turned to walk toward the ticket booth, he walked next to me and put his hand on my lower back/hip. I literally jumped and tripped because it was so surprising. But I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know if I didn't like it, or if I was just not used to it, so again, I went with it.
But, Auntie Seraphic, the boy did not [fail to] have some hand on me for more than a few seconds the rest of the night. I could barely walk. During the movie, he immediately put his arm around me and stroked my arm the entire movie. But again, I wasn't sure if I disliked it because it was objectively weird, or if I disliked it because I have deep-seeded issues with intimacy.
After the movie, we went to dinner, and it was incredibly awkward. We didn't have much to say to each other, and I was bored out of my mind. He made a comment that implied he took my taciturnity for shyness rather than boredom, which wasn't totally off base as I can be pretty shy when I am not comfortable with a person. He asked if we could get together again the NEXT DAY.
After dinner, he walked me to my car, and as we were saying our "goodnights" and "thank yous," he leaned in for a kiss. And I kissed him back. But it wasn't just a sweet peck; there was tongue. And I just kind of stood there, wondering when he was going to be done and trying to decide if I was enjoying it or not, and wondering if we were bothering the other people in the parking lot.
After I pulled away, I didn't say anything and just started to get in my car. He made the quip, "mind if I get in there with you?" and I said, "Haaah. No." And I left. I was near tears on the drive home, because I was so disappointed, and felt so guilty that I didn't like him.
He texted me later, calling me sweetheart, and asking when we could get together again. I never responded. Mostly because the next day, I had sunk into a depression coma and stayed in bed most of the day, feeling like a bad person because I didn't stop him when I should have, and wondering if there was something wrong with me for not enjoying his attention. If it needs to be said, I am not terribly experienced in formal dating. I've had boyfriends, but they always evolved naturally, out of friendship. "Dating" in the 1950s sense, is fairly foreign to me.
It wasn't until I talked to some friends who were in unanimous agreement that his behavior was objectively weird and creepy, and that he shouldn't have put me in a position where I would have had to tell him I was uncomfortable in the first place, that I started feeling less awful about it.
One friend made a great point that this guy didn't treat me like a human being who he was trying to get to know and earn the privileges he took, but he treated me like a DATE. As if he had a script for how "dates" are "supposed" to go, and just followed that. That's what I meant when I said the standard Dinner and a Movie Date was a little bitty red flag.
I don't think this guy was predatory; I think he was just confused. I ended up writing him a very succinct text telling him I would prefer not to go out with him again, because I didn't feel a spark, and because I thought he came on too strong for a first date.
So, I have definitely learned from this... Mostly, to not be so compliant, and that I don't need to fool myself into believing I enjoy attention that I only think I should enjoy. That it's okay to not be into someone who is into me, and that a bad date isn't the end of the world. But I also decided I really don't like dating. It seems so unnatural to me! I really prefer my more "European" approach to relationships that grow naturally out of friendship. I don't think I will go on a date with a stranger like that again any time soon.
Anyway, if you have any other thoughts, I'd love to hear them.
Had a Lousy Date
Dear HALD,
I am so sorry that happened to you. I think the worst part was you just allowing this stranger to keep touching you, thinking that maybe you were "supposed" to enjoy it. Nobody has the right to touch you without your permission, and it is very odd for a complete stranger to think he can do it without asking. It would be unusual (and perhaps disturbing) for a young woman to enjoy any young mn she barely knows stroking her in a dark room for two hours. And personally I really HATE the hand-on-the-back routine, which is so patronizing--the big man pushing the little lady in the direction he wants her to go.
I can't even begin to imagine what was going through the man's head, but I think your friends were right. Perhaps he wasn't thinking of you as "you" but as "A Girl." And it is indeed like all he knows about Girls is what he sees on TV and in the movies.
The story is so sad that it strikes me that many readers could profit from reading it, so I'd like to put it on the blog, if I may. I think what all girls could stand to learn is how to get out of hugging someone, and how to speak up and say, "Hey, it's a little soon for that" AS SOON AS they feel an unwanted touch. It can be so hard to do this comfortably and graciously. And your friends are right: men shouldn't put us in this embarrassing position. But who is going to tell them? Their parents? They certainly aren't going to learn it from Great God Television.
Another thought that comes to mind is that we can always say "No" to "dinner and a movie". As a first date. We can always say no, and we SHOULD say no to anything that surprises us or makes us feel uncomfortable. In future if a cute stranger asks you to "dinner and a movie" as a first date, you are well within your rights to say, "No, thank you. But what about a coffee?"
I hope this is helpful. And I hope you don't jump a mile the next time you are asked on a date in a "traditional" way. I'm not sure "dinner and a movie" is a red flag in itself--I guess it depends on the cultural context, or if the guy sounds like he got the idea out of a comic book.
Just have a game plan: ask yourself what you're comfortable with, suggest a "low time commitment" first date and hold out your hand for a handshake before anyone comes at you with a hug. Look anyone in the eye when they do something to you you don't like, and tell them you don't like it.
Again, I'm very sorry you had such an uncomfortable experience. It almost hurts me personally that your response to this unlikable guy was to feel guilty for not liking him.
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
Wednesday, 17 July 2013
Auntie Seraphic & Confused-Clueless II
This is the email I received in response to the answer I posted yesterday, and my response to that. Again, I will end with a few general observations
I completely hear you about not telling my friends every detail about our relationship, and yes I honestly do feel like they treat it as a soap opera! "Oh! What does [C-C] have to say about [Scooter] today". And not really interested in why I'm really confiding in them. I do owe it to him to keep things confidential, but it wasn't my intent at all to betray him, I'm just desperately searching for words of wisdom and guidance.
I like him--a lot--and that's why it's difficult to talk to him as a "friend" when so many times that "friend" line is crossed in conversation. What I don't understand is how he can so easily forget about the past and pretend that nothing ever happened. It's extremely difficult for me to talk to him and push the thoughts of the past out of my head and focus on just being friends. We rushed things when I was [at my college town], but as he said "we don't have a choice" because we had to see if we could be something together. And if we didn't try then we'd never know.
Telling you what I like about him could go on for quite a while. He is wonderful to his mother, and his relationship with his sister makes my heart melt. He takes her to movies all the time, they're so close and they are X years apart! He protects her and that's so beautiful to me. A man who can honour the special women in his life to me shows that he will do the same for his future wife, hopefully.
Dear Auntie Seraphic,
You are so lovely. Thank you for responding to my msg! You are correct: I am 20 now but was 19 at the time when I was with him. He is 2- now and, yes, I know, we're both young.
Yes, I have gone to confession. That confession was very painful for me, but I needed it. It was freeing. Our faith is so beautiful! But it's been almost a year, and I still haven't forgiven myself, and it just kills me. I look at myself with such disgust sometimes, and I can't help but give in to the tears...
Yes, I have gone to confession. That confession was very painful for me, but I needed it. It was freeing. Our faith is so beautiful! But it's been almost a year, and I still haven't forgiven myself, and it just kills me. I look at myself with such disgust sometimes, and I can't help but give in to the tears...
I completely hear you about not telling my friends every detail about our relationship, and yes I honestly do feel like they treat it as a soap opera! "Oh! What does [C-C] have to say about [Scooter] today". And not really interested in why I'm really confiding in them. I do owe it to him to keep things confidential, but it wasn't my intent at all to betray him, I'm just desperately searching for words of wisdom and guidance.
I like him--a lot--and that's why it's difficult to talk to him as a "friend" when so many times that "friend" line is crossed in conversation. What I don't understand is how he can so easily forget about the past and pretend that nothing ever happened. It's extremely difficult for me to talk to him and push the thoughts of the past out of my head and focus on just being friends. We rushed things when I was [at my college town], but as he said "we don't have a choice" because we had to see if we could be something together. And if we didn't try then we'd never know.
Telling you what I like about him could go on for quite a while. He is wonderful to his mother, and his relationship with his sister makes my heart melt. He takes her to movies all the time, they're so close and they are X years apart! He protects her and that's so beautiful to me. A man who can honour the special women in his life to me shows that he will do the same for his future wife, hopefully.
I don't know if it's just the age aspect, or because his relationship with his father isn't very good, but I can't seem to figure out why he's so afraid of commitment. What blows my mind is, who travels to another city that is a 20+ hour drive away to see a "friend" who is a girl? He's been seriously working on trying to come see me, and his effort has surprised me. Does this mean anything? I still feel like he has feelings, but is too afraid to admit it and deal with them.
As you said, would I still look forward to talking to him at parties? I would. I would be very interested to see how he continues to grow in his faith, and what his dreams are, and what he's accomplished. What I love about him is that he has hopes and dreams now, that aspect reminds me of myself. We compliment each other very well, he's a little quiet and I'm crazy and outgoing and love adventure where as he'd rather stay home and relax. But when we were together, he wouldn't say "I don't want to go downtown and explore!" He'd willingly come with me because he knew it would be amazing and it's something he's never experienced before. I opened his eyes to the city he's lived in for years. Which leads me to where he's from.
As you said, would I still look forward to talking to him at parties? I would. I would be very interested to see how he continues to grow in his faith, and what his dreams are, and what he's accomplished. What I love about him is that he has hopes and dreams now, that aspect reminds me of myself. We compliment each other very well, he's a little quiet and I'm crazy and outgoing and love adventure where as he'd rather stay home and relax. But when we were together, he wouldn't say "I don't want to go downtown and explore!" He'd willingly come with me because he knew it would be amazing and it's something he's never experienced before. I opened his eyes to the city he's lived in for years. Which leads me to where he's from.
He was born in [a poor, non-English-speaking country] and I know that he is worried about what my family's reaction would be if he were to come to see me. Half of my family is [Southern European], and that's the side that he is worried about, even though I don't see [his background] as an issue. My brother [might]. Ah, I just don't know. I shouldn't even be thinking about that, because he is simply not mine. Because we are "friends".
But now I feel a dilemma. I know God has told me that I haven't been patient, so I am trying. Especially right now, when [Scooter] and I haven't talked in X days, which is absolutely mind blowing because we haven't gone a day without talking. I know you're probably laughing but it really drives me nuts! He knows I've been thinking a lot lately. Maybe he's giving me space, or our mutual friend mentioned what was on my mind to him, and he's backed off now. Either way, I am waiting "patiently" for him to msg me...
But now I feel a dilemma. I know God has told me that I haven't been patient, so I am trying. Especially right now, when [Scooter] and I haven't talked in X days, which is absolutely mind blowing because we haven't gone a day without talking. I know you're probably laughing but it really drives me nuts! He knows I've been thinking a lot lately. Maybe he's giving me space, or our mutual friend mentioned what was on my mind to him, and he's backed off now. Either way, I am waiting "patiently" for him to msg me...
But I'm getting anxious because I am leaving for Brazil on Wednesday! For World Youth Day! I'm sure you've heard! :) But anyway, hmmm I just am not sure if I should even bother to msg him before I leave. I'm really quite shocked that he hasn't msged me yet.
Well, there is another novel for you to read. I won't continue to bug you after this, though, but when I stumbled upon your blog I just thought, "Wow, this woman has lots of wonderful words, maybe she can offer me some advice."
I will seek more advice from the older friend I've been talking to because I really don't feel like there's anyone else who can help me, especially not my mother!
Well, there is another novel for you to read. I won't continue to bug you after this, though, but when I stumbled upon your blog I just thought, "Wow, this woman has lots of wonderful words, maybe she can offer me some advice."
I will seek more advice from the older friend I've been talking to because I really don't feel like there's anyone else who can help me, especially not my mother!
Thank you for listening to me! God bless you!
,
Confused & Clueless
Dear Confused & Clueless,
One more email from me. If God has forgiven you, and you know He has, for you have felt sincere contrition, made your confession and no doubt done the penance you were assigned, you must forgive yourself. At least, you must stop regretting whatever it was. Perhaps you are mourning your image of yourself as "super-pure." Well, very few human beings have ever been that "super-pure." In this case, what should comfort you is the humility of accepting that you are prone to sexual temptations like anyone else and have given in to some, and then the joy that God has forgiven you and doesn't care about that now. He just cares about you. If you feel that much disgust with yourself, I recommend you speak with a Catholic-positive counsellor or with a priest or nun who works with young people.
The devil hates us, so he wants us to hate ourselves, too. Then when we are tired of hating ourselves for our sexual sins, he tells us that it is the Church's fault for lying to us about sexual sin, and we should just get with the program and do whatever we think we want. This is why it is so important for you to let God's forgiveness fall on you like cooling rain on a blazing hot day.
The reason [Scooter] can forget about the past and pretend nothing happened is because he is a guy and guys are different about these things. He has probably been committing the sin of self-abuse since he was 14, so one more minor (as you did not actually have sex) sexual sin is not going to be that big a deal to his psyche. Also, society in general has never cared that much about the minor sexual sins of men. Society shrugs and says, "Well, that's men." It's women who (A) brood (B) have historically been judged harshly. Men often just do not get that women can't just do stuff and then completely forget about it, like they do.
I don't think your feelings about [Scooter] are laughable at all. I think they are painful and they remind me of when I was 20. But I do encourage you to imagine putting all your hurt and worries in to a big bag and leaving them at the foot of the Cross for our Lord to take care of, while you get ready to go to Brazil. When you come home, it may be different, but right now the important thing is that you concentrate on the excitement of World Youth Day. It would be terrible if, when you are 30, someone asked you how World Youth Day in Brazil was and you said, "It was totally ruined for me because I spent all my time thinking about a guy and crying over him."
So don't message [Scooter] or try to contact him in any way before your trip. It could be that he himself needs time to retreat from all the drama--men often do that; have you ever heard of the "man cave"? Some men thrive on drama, but others get tired of it very swiftly. Meanwhile, what [Scooter] says about coming to see you means nothing. [Scooter] actually at your door means a lot. With men, it's most definitely their actions, not their words, that matter.
But, as I say, [Scooter] doesn't matter right now. Put him in a bag in your mind and put the bag at the foot of the Cross for our Lord to take care of, too! What matters is that you get everything you need together for World Youth Day in Brazil--your Portuguese phrasebook, your passport--and start to feel the excitement of this amazing opportunity in your life.
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
General Observations
1. "We don't have a choice" is seducer talk, a line straight out of the movies. And there's a kind of man whose interest is sparked by the convenient fact that a woman is going away very soon.
2. The sentence "I owe it to him to keep things confidential" makes me uneasy. What I was talking about was preserving someone's modesty and dignity. Women are terribly hurt when the men we kiss make us the subject of locker room talk. Well, it's not nice to make men we kiss the subject of powder room talk, either. As far as I know, all my friends' babies were created through parthenogenesis. They got married or got some boyfriend; they got pregnant. There's some connection there. Hmm...
3. Making out is dangerous for women because it can make us feel more attached to a guy than is at all reasonable. Once upon a time, cavemen just picked cavewomen and dragged them off, and it strikes me that making out might have been nature's way of helping a cavewoman cope with having to have sexual congress with a complete stranger. Many a time women wail to one another, "What does she SEE in him?" Well, it might not be him. It might be the chemicals zipping and zapping around in her brain.
4. Guys are different. Guys are different. Guys are different. And they have really short memories regarding things they want to forget, like all those really sweet things they said last week that they honestly sort of believed at the time.
5. A man can be great to his mother, aunts and sisters and treat all other women like trash. Although a man being nasty to his mother or sister is definitely a red flag, all his being nice to them proves is that he is nice to his mother and sister. Men in many cultures protect their own sisters while scheming to get their hands on other guys' sisters. This is why men have to have a little chat with each other before they court each other's sisters. Otherwise someone sometimes ends up dead.
6. It's a bad sign when a man tells you he thinks your family's ethnic group is racist. It means he's racist against your family's ethnic group. It's also a convenient excuse for him not to see you. "It's not my fault I don't come to see you. It's your racist family's fault." Race and ethnicity stuff can make dating an even bigger headache, speaking as a mangia-cake maudite-anglais cracker gora dead-ghost Taig from Toronto. Red flag.
7. Men are very much afraid of commitment to women they don't want to commit to. Occasionally men are also afraid of commitment to women they sort of do want to commit to, which is why mothers and sisters should yell at their sons and brothers about getting a move on and why girlfriends should try to make a good impression on mothers, sisters and even the nice old ladies pouring tea after Mass. However, men who are simply scared of marriage don't say "Just friends" to a girl they want as a long-term prospect.
8. There is no cure for unrequited love like international travel. And WYD must be the biggest meeting of Catholic marriage enthusiasts in the entire world.
9. Any consensual sexual sin any of us committed privately a year ago, as a one-off, and have subsequently confessed, and has no long-term consequences, matters less now than the new scuff on our best shoes. As sexual, it is imprudent and maybe even unchaste to think about it, so don't. Almost nobody knows, and nobody cares. Every Christian knows you're a sinner. If Catholic, you say so during the Confiteor at Mass every Sunday.
10. I'm really sorry girls don't trust their mothers more. But this weird post-1919 division between mothers and daughters seems to be so widespread, all I can say is that it is so important for women in positions of authority or in the public eye to be good role models and to tell younger women the truth as it is, not as we wish it were. And younger women must train themselves to always ponder the questions "What is it?" "Is it really so?" and "Knowing that, what should I do?" Many a time I have stopped myself from a slide into hysteria by reminding myself, "But I have no evidence. I do NOT know that."
10. I'm really sorry girls don't trust their mothers more. But this weird post-1919 division between mothers and daughters seems to be so widespread, all I can say is that it is so important for women in positions of authority or in the public eye to be good role models and to tell younger women the truth as it is, not as we wish it were. And younger women must train themselves to always ponder the questions "What is it?" "Is it really so?" and "Knowing that, what should I do?" Many a time I have stopped myself from a slide into hysteria by reminding myself, "But I have no evidence. I do NOT know that."
Tuesday, 16 July 2013
Auntie Seraphic & Confused-Clueless I
I alluded to this post yesterday. There were two emails, so it's a two parter. Girls! It would be helpful if you put all the relevant details in your first email. For example, if you're stuck on a guy, it would be helpful to know why, beyond bonding hormone.
Meanwhile, my unusual gentleness is because of her age. I have some extra observations underneath for older readers. By the way, in Canada and the USA, "school" can mean "college" or "university."
Dear Auntie Seraphic,
I hope you can offer some words of advice for me. I will summarize as best and as fast as I can.
Last year I left home and moved to a different city for school. Before heading back home I met a guy and he blew me away. He made me feel so loved, so wanted. He especially blew me away when he started to ask how I would feel if I fell in love with someone [with his career plans]...and then proceeded to discuss how I felt about marriage.
I was very nervous about getting involved with him because I didn't want to start something and then leave to go back home. He convinced me to "just try this" because we'd never know if we didn't try and we both knew we were running out of time. Now, I am a young Catholic striving to be a saint and he is a young Protestant who struggled with controlling his desires as a young man.
Eventually we got into a "relationship" and I compromised my values the night before I left to come back home. Thankfully the good Lord saved me, and we did not go as far as having sex, but I still felt like something was taken from me that I can now never get back again.
He came with me to the airport and we said our teary-eyed goodbyes, thinking that in our hearts, this wouldn't be the last time we'd see each other. We continued to work on our relationship when I arrived home, but we struggled to keep it together. It fell apart one night when I had told him that I had a really deep conversation with my girl friends about what had happened the night before and he got angry and he was hurt. He felt so ashamed and he felt so guilty that my friends now looked at me different and were not happy with my choices. He started to push me away and it all fell apart.
He ended communication very abruptly but somehow we'd get back into talking, then it would fall apart and come Christmas Day, I sent him a msg and he never responded. From then on, I was disappointed especially because he didn't have the decency to msg me Merry Christmas.
I'm sorry this is a novel, I'm just trying to grab all the important pieces.
After the many times my friends picked me up off the floor and told me he wasn't worth my time..and all the times I tried to hide when I was thinking about him out of fear of being scolded by my friends, I struggled to push him out of my mind. [But then a] month ago, I received a msg from him. I proceeded to get text after text after text from not only him, but from [the friend who introduced us] saying "u just gotta talk to him, he won't shut up about u, tonight pushed me over the edge, he was crying because he misses u so much".
I'm sorry this is a novel, I'm just trying to grab all the important pieces.
After the many times my friends picked me up off the floor and told me he wasn't worth my time..and all the times I tried to hide when I was thinking about him out of fear of being scolded by my friends, I struggled to push him out of my mind. [But then a] month ago, I received a msg from him. I proceeded to get text after text after text from not only him, but from [the friend who introduced us] saying "u just gotta talk to him, he won't shut up about u, tonight pushed me over the edge, he was crying because he misses u so much".
I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to think, or say, so I didn't do anything. I let him continue to pour out his 16 apologies and [I messaged him] 2 days later. I didn't know why he was back, I was angry and confused why God has let him come back into my life and distract me.
I thought, maybe we are supposed to be together, but I wasn't patient in the beginning, so now I am meant to learn patience, something I struggle with every day. Now we've been talking and trying to work on the "getting to know one another" that we had missed completely in the beginning. We have skyped numerous times and had some serious discussions.. And I feel torn now because my feelings for him are not just of that of a friends. They are more than that and its hard for me to push those aside and act as if we never had anything in the past. I am confused by what I am supposed to do because he says he just wants to be friends, and he hasn't come back to "get back together", or "be my boyfriend."
Deep down, from our discussions and our skype conversations, I truly feel he's bluffing. I feel he's scared of the feelings he has for me and isn't ready for commitment which I know he's said before.
For the past couple of days I have been seriously discerning cutting off all communication with him because I can't "just be friends" with him. I talked to my friend, the one who introduced us, and I felt I had made up my mind, and the decision was to cut him off. With that in mind, I went to the nearest chapel, and knelt before the Lord with the hopes of guidance and direction from Him, asking how I can go about cutting him off in a nice way. But instead what I received as my knees hit the floor is "you haven't been patient" and the tears just fell from my eyes. I was so overcome by emotion out of pure confusion. I felt I had made up my mind! And was thinking clearly! Yet the Lord gave me an answer of what I would have normally been ecstatic to hear!
Now, I am asking for your thoughts on the matter. I know that I care about him, truly a lot. I have thought about marriage, and I can see myself with him, but I try to push that out of my head in fear of getting hurt and being vulnerable.
Please help!
Deep down, from our discussions and our skype conversations, I truly feel he's bluffing. I feel he's scared of the feelings he has for me and isn't ready for commitment which I know he's said before.
For the past couple of days I have been seriously discerning cutting off all communication with him because I can't "just be friends" with him. I talked to my friend, the one who introduced us, and I felt I had made up my mind, and the decision was to cut him off. With that in mind, I went to the nearest chapel, and knelt before the Lord with the hopes of guidance and direction from Him, asking how I can go about cutting him off in a nice way. But instead what I received as my knees hit the floor is "you haven't been patient" and the tears just fell from my eyes. I was so overcome by emotion out of pure confusion. I felt I had made up my mind! And was thinking clearly! Yet the Lord gave me an answer of what I would have normally been ecstatic to hear!
Now, I am asking for your thoughts on the matter. I know that I care about him, truly a lot. I have thought about marriage, and I can see myself with him, but I try to push that out of my head in fear of getting hurt and being vulnerable.
Please help!
Dear Confused and Clueless,
If you just left for college last year, you are probably only 19 or 20 now. You probably won't get this now, but from an adult perspective, you are very young and vulnerable and, above all, deserve forgiveness* for your sins a hundred times faster than a thirty-year-old does. It is very hard to be between the ages of 17 and 25. Your powers of reasoning, prudence and patience have not caught up yet with your desires, particularly the desire to feel loved by a man.
If you have gone to confession, what you did the night before you went home doesn't really matter. (If you haven't gone to confession, go to a good priest for it, and let that be an end to it.) All it was, from a practical point of view, was evidence that you are a human adult female who felt very sexually attracted to that human adult male. Sexual desire is one of the most powerful forces on earth, which is why human beings have created a lot of taboos and disciplines to fence it in, to help us obey God's request/command/invitation to us not to have sex outside of the one safe, just place for it: marriage.
During this relationship, you have learned many important lessons that will stay with you for life. One is that when you have an intense experience, you want to tell all your friends about it. Another is that when you do, the other person involved may feel betrayed. (And so either you tell your friends, and don't tell the man you told your friends, or you don't tell your friends. Many married women disappoint our Single friends by suddenly clamming up when we get married. It's because our loyalty to our husbands now outweighs our need to connect with our female friends.)
The question for me is if this man is your friend. You are worried about being hurt and vulnerable, but you are hurting and vulnerable already, so leave that aside for now. A man-friend is not someone you look at and say, "Will this guy hurt me and how bad?" A man-friend is someone you look at and feel happiness because he is there. You think, "I like this man! He's a straight-up guy! I'd feel proud if I walked into a room arm in arm with him, and people thought he was my boyfriend." A boyfriend, or a husband, should also be your friend.
What I am not getting from your email is what you LIKE about this guy. I get that you are overwhelmingly sexually attracted to him, and I get that--like most women---you want a great man to love you, but what I don't get is whether or not you LIKE this man, so that even if you were married to someone else, you would still look forward to talking to him at parties.
If the Lord tells you you need to be more patient, I won't contradict! And I think you need to be more patient, especially with yourself, because you are so young. He is very young, too, and he probably has many of the same worries and fears you do. He's a guy, so he's different, but that doesn't make him from an entirely different species. He's confused, clueless and vulnerable, too.
I also think you should stop talking about your business with your same-age friends. At your age, your friends will find it all an absorbing soap opera, with you as heroine and him as villain, but if you want to have a kindly, mature, Christian friendship/relationship with this man, you must develop a comparable loyalty to him. If he is not abusive in any way, you owe him the dignity of discretion and privacy. Yes, you may need advice and guidance, but I strongly suggest discussing anything that needs to be discussed about your boyfriend with him, first of all, and then perhaps with an adult mentor, like your mother or favourite aunt or priest.
I hope this is helpful.
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
Observations for Older Readers
1. Beware the man who pressures you into "a relationship" (and what does that mean, anyway?) or anything else because you are "running out of time." Time is the one thing you are not running out of. You have all eternity before you, and the little bit you have on this earth determines how the rest of it plays out.
2. If you don't want the time, don't do the crime. Of course you want to do sexy stuff with sexy people. But you don't because you would feel simply terrible afterwards. You know Jiminy Cricket will sit on your shoulder yelling, "Bad Pinocchio! Bad!" If Catholic, you will have to go to a confessional and tell it all to a man behind a mesh screen who will say such kind and gentle things you may feel even worse and cry. This is better, however, than telling yourself you HAVE BEEN ROBBED. See #3.
3. You can get everything except virginity back. If you lose Grace, you can at least humbly ask for it back, and if you are really sorry and God is merciful, you will get it back. If you lose face, you can get that back, too. If you lose your dignity, you can get that back in time. Virginity, however, is a historical state, and you can't rewrite history. If you make a free act of will to have sex and you have it, hey presto, you're not a virgin anymore. (St. Augustine ruled that rape of a virgin does not entail loss of her virginity, as it does not include her free act of will. Of course it is still an atrocious thing to happen and to recover from, and rapists used to be executed.)
Make sure you understand the difference between Grace, face, dignity and virginity. And stop using the word "virginity" for every new experience. I once broke a date with a young man because he said we were losing our rock concert virginity together. And twenty years later I was bereft of speech when another young man told me he had lost his "black pudding virginity." Stop this at once, young people!
Incidentally, if you do something of your own free will, you were not robbed. Nothing was taken from you. You did it yourself. Let us take responsibility for the stuff we do, and call a spade a spade, and a sin a sin, and physical acts deliberately leading to sexual excitement of both parties physical acts deliberately leading to sexual excitement of both parties. Outside of marriage, these are sins.
4. Keep it classy. You did it. You feel bad. Now you don't love yourself, so you reach out to others to see if they will still love you if they too know What You Did. So you tell all your friends, and they are, like, OMG! They are all embarrassed and, like, "u gotta dump this bf, grfrd!" and when they meet up they discuss What You Did in exasperated undertones.
Your plan to repair your self-esteem with the esteem of your posse has backfired. You are angry and hurt, and misery loves company, so who better to share in your anger and hurt than your Partner in Crime? And how better to make him angry and hurt than to tell him you told all your friends What You and He Did and how they let you down.
Sadly, this passive-aggression will backfire, too, because if there is anything men hate, it is losing face and being told to feel guilty. If you want to hang onto the delicious morsel guy whose charms you savoured succumbed to yesterday, don't yell at him about it today. Just go to confession and don't put yourself in a position where you do it again. Tell the truth, which is that it felt great at the time, but you're not doing that again because you don't want to go to hell. ("God doesn't send people to hell for stuff like that." "Yes, He does. It's in the Bible. Anyway, it's not Him sending, it's us choosing, and I need you to respect my sexual choices if this is going to work out.")
If this is possible, do NOT tell your friends What You Did. I realize how hard this is, so if you really can't help it because you feel that bad, then pick the smartest, quietest one. If you tell two, pick two who don't know each other, so they can't discuss it.
5. Do not tell his friend your secret plans regarding him because his friend will tell him. Guaranteed. And then he will be angry and hurt and withdraw and say he just wants to be friends and complain about women to his friends and say we are good for only one thing, etc., etc. Bless his little heart.
6. If he says he just wants to be friends, it's over. Keep it classy. Say "Okay, if that's what you want" and then don't text him first ever again. If you find his facebook updates seriously irritating, wait a month and then subtly defriend him. Don't discuss him. Don't skype him. Don't write to him. Don't for a minute think he was the ONE and you have lost all chance of earthly happiness and are doomed to sexual frustration and eventual insanity and death surrounded by mangy cats. Rewrite the script by saying, "Ah! He was one of the really hot ones," when your friends say his name. Wink and smile.
*I just heard Calvinist Cath have a heart attack, so I concede that it is theologically risqué to suggest anyone deserves God's forgiveness for his/her sins. What I mean is that the young are less culpable for their sexual sins than the old because they are untried soldiers in the war against sin, not battle-hardened veterans comme moi.
*I just heard Calvinist Cath have a heart attack, so I concede that it is theologically risqué to suggest anyone deserves God's forgiveness for his/her sins. What I mean is that the young are less culpable for their sexual sins than the old because they are untried soldiers in the war against sin, not battle-hardened veterans comme moi.
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