By email, the ever-so-sharp Hannah asks:
I saw your "general update" post last week, in which you confessed, "I no longer think I'm undateable." Since you've recently come through a bout of undateable-ness, I'm wondering a) what makes a person undateable, and b) what makes them dateable again?
Oh my. What a good question. How much of an answer do you really want?
The first impulse is to say, no, silly, I wasn't REALLY undateable, I just thought I was. But upon reflection, that's not very true. During the time I thought I was undateable, I actually was undateable, I think. They're connected.
You want the truth? It's ugly, and maybe a little bit strange. I'm not promising it makes any sense.
For a long time, I had this really yuchhy image blocking my way to
romantic happiness. I thought there was something wrong with me,
something invisible, akin to colorblindness. Something broken. And I
thought other people could see it on me, once they started to fall in
love with me, and it made them run away. I didn't know what this thing
was -- I couldn't figure it out, myself. But I was convinced it was
there, repelling people. And I was ashamed of that brokenness. The
way I would explain it to friends, this shame, was that I felt like the short kid in your high school, with the gimpy left leg, whose one and only dream is to play on the basketball team. Every year he practices all summer in his driveway, and he gets really excited. "This is going to be the year, I know it." And he goes to tryouts, and it's excruciating for everyone -- the coach, the kid's friends, the other players he's clowning around with, thinking they'll be riding the bus to games together. Because that kid is just not going to make the team, ever. And what's so horrible and awkward and awful is that he doesn't know it, and he won't just move on and go join the chess club like people are gently suggesting to him. He doesn't get it, and he's doomed, and he keeps trying.
That's what I imagined myself to be. What a terrible image! It's so hopeless. It didn't even let me be sad when something didn't work. I just felt stupid and ashamed of myself for having believed it could have worked at all. Oh, so confining way to think about myself. It really felt crummy. It felt like a trap.
Part of becoming dateable again for me has been abandoning that imagery. I just don't believe it anymore. There's nothing broken about me. Sure, I'm flawed as hell, but I'm not broken. And it's not a useful way to think about myself, or to talk to myself. Around my birthday, I was looking through a magazine and I got an idea. I made a collage for myself, to help me break that old warped image I was carrying around. It's hanging on my refrigerator. It makes me smile every time I look at it. Want to see it? Here it is. Probably won't mean much to you. But for me -- look at me, the basketball star! Look at how the other players are in awe. She's flying, about to win the game. And what a placid look on my face, like I was born for this. It's just what I need. Lighthearted, but full of possibility. The perfect counter to that limiting imagery I've been lugging around for years and years.
Have I left it behind? I think so. My conscious brain let go of the idea of myself as a four-foot tall, gimpy basketball player some time ago, but when you've been clinging to something for a long time I think you need to let it go on a lot of levels. I think the collage helped. I made some other collages (they're fun to do) along the theme of possibility, adventure, love, partnership. That there has been a lot of recent attention from interesting men is helping. Feeling healthy and cute helps.
My favorite part of that collage is the stars and martinis on the left. I think it reminds me of Rock Star Barbie, which is a part of yourself that you should enjoy and cherish, since I think it's pretty hard to act that way if you don't love yourself (flaws and all) and enjoy your own company. Forget about self-criticism! Let's have gimlets! Fabulous! It's a humorous but fitting addition to the inspirational rest of the collage.
Posted by: Eleanor | February 07, 2006 at 02:48 PM
Sweetie - this is so exciting! Yay! That collage is beautiful and you are beautiful and I'm so happy for you!
Posted by: l. | February 07, 2006 at 02:58 PM
That is so beautiful! You inspire me!
Posted by: Kelly | February 07, 2006 at 03:13 PM
Thanks, Sherry.
But I was convinced it was there, repelling people. And I was ashamed of that brokenness.
That's a brave thing to say. Too familiar! And such a self-perpetuating mind-trap. Plus it's sneaky; it resurfaces when you're not looking. It's not about "dating" at all, is it? It's about trusting your right to exist. The basic, basic core.
Posted by: Hannah | February 07, 2006 at 05:47 PM
And remember, you can't play the game if you don't get on the court... Life is not a spectator sport or a dress rehearsal.
Posted by: Dan | February 07, 2006 at 05:52 PM
I love your collage. This is a beautiful and inspiring post.
Posted by: Jill | February 08, 2006 at 12:13 AM
This is a great series of posts, supporting the ideas that "the most personal is the most general," and "you have to love yourself before you can love someone else." Thanks for being so honest.
Posted by: Michael J. | February 08, 2006 at 06:33 AM
I am that kid, and I did join the chess club. I've abandoned dating, and resigned myself to being single. There's way, way worse things that could happen.
Posted by: F_Jones | June 19, 2007 at 02:31 PM