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Predicament of the Week
In which Breakup Girl addresses the situation that has, this
week, brought her the most (a) amusement, (b) relief that it is happening to
someone else, and/or (c) proof that she could not possibly be making this stuff
up.
Dear Breakup Girl,
I'm nearly 37. I last had sex in the '80s. That
was also the last time I was in a relationship. I didn't date in high school.
In fact, dating, and relationships, are completely outside my experience. It's
like I'm lacking a gene, or something. I look around and see that, even if they
aren't happy all the time, most of the people I know and love have been in a
few relationships. The ones who are unhappy say I should be contented with being
single. The happy people say I could meet the right person tomorrow. Damn their
optimism.
More stats: I'm of medium-build, tending to chunkiness, I've been called a
"handsome woman" -- which I guess means I'm not conventionally pretty, but have
a few good features -- and my most frequently-heard compliment is about my brains
and sense of humor. So despite not being the prize of prizes, I'm not terrible,
either.
What does it take? I don't know from dating. Or flirting. Sex was a long time
ago, but I think I remember liking it a lot. It's been easy to slip into a mindset
where sex and love just happen to other people, not to me. But quite often I
hear the clock ticking, and think I'm really missing out on an essential part
of this human being thing. I'd appreciate your thoughts.
--Hane
Dear Hane,
I wouldn't damn their optimism, but I would finesse it.
Sure, you could meet "the right person" (whatever
that means) tomorrow, but I'm not sure that's where/how to look, or whom
to look for. In other words, do not go straight to Relationship. Pass GO first.
What's GO? Getting Out. Out and doing stuff, any stuff,
a lot. AND Getting Out of -- yes -- the mindset you describe. I mean, you do
not sound like a Life-less loner in the first place. But you're right. Doesn't
matter how full your Day-Runner is if you've taken yourself out of the running.
Which so many people do, by the way. And I know those I'll-die-alone feelings
die hard. I even know folks who've had trouble adjusting to great relationships
because even when they're in them it's hard to erase the notion that
only other people have them.
So you may not be able to completely mute the sound of
the ticking clock or the voices telling you you don't know what you're doing.
But when you say you don't know from flirting, you're right. By definition.
By self-fulfilling prophecy. When you say
these things happen to other people, you don't feel the tap of the stranger
asking you to dance. When you say you don't know what to say, you don't even
just say "Hi." (Which, sometimes,
is all there is to say.)
And by the way, who wants to be a "prize?"
Prizes are statues. No way to reassure you, without sounding corny, that "brains
and sense of humor" are more important than anything, but there's also
no way that I'm wrong. (Not to mention: frumps
date princes; "handsome women" are prime freaking ministers and
secretaries. Of state.) You are so totally fine in that department, as long
as you're walking and talking — and thus looking
– like you are.
So. Don't talk yourself out of just talking to people.
Don't psyche yourself out by testing everyone for Right-ness. Try the Internet;
tiptoe onto the Continuum. Flirting may
be an art, but there is no art without instinct. (Which is not a gene, so it
can't be missing. ) Let it tick.
And take heart, truly. No one ever thought the
'80s would be back.
Love,
Breakup Girl
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