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Dear Breakup Girl,

I have the worst history in the world when it comes to men, starting with my father. Every time I end a relationship, I promise myself that I "won't make the same mistake twice." And, well, I don't -- I make new ones. My mom says, "It's okay to make bad choices as long as you're learning from them and not making the same bad choices repeatedly." Yes, I'm 25-years-old, and still listen wholeheartedly to my Mommy, although she's no better at this relationship-thing than I am.

I am always quick to counsel my friends that "most of the time the best thing to do is not the easiest thing to do." For example, I know I need to follow my heart, and seek more stimulating, fulfilling, uplifting, interactive companionship; but it is bushels easier to stay put, gripe about it, and not put myself at risk for rejection or another bad relationship.

On top of that, I don't even know if the relationship I want exists. Like you told Georgia, what I want to say is, "Adore me!", but not in that desperate, needy tone that reeks of insecurity. I want to be treated like a princess. I want to share my opinions with someone who cares about what I have to say. I need to feel validated when I am concerned about something. I want to be somewhere amid the top three things considered when a decision is made. I want all of these things because these are the things I provide to my "honey" when I'm in a relationship, although always lurking is my "I can't do any better" monster.

I feel, most of the time, like I'm a benefit to the people whose lives I touch. I am caring and nurturing, forthright and gentle. If I love you, I will stand by you to the death; until you prove yourself unworthy of my love, and even then it takes everything I can to force myself not to invest so much of my heart and soul.

But, for all of my self-proclaimed attributes, I know I have many things working against me. Although I am self-sufficient with my own place and pay my own bills; many people find the fact that I'm a single mother of two to be a downfall. As much as I hate such automatic assumptions, I know from personal experience (see later in the letter) that they exist.

The other day, I was in a nationally-known hardware store with both of my children, and ran into the lumber department man who had helped me (and flirted with me) a few weeks earlier. I made it a point to have a more detailed conversation with him this time (you know, as an indication I was interested in him as a person, and not just lumber man). During our conversation, it was revealed that he was also a single parent with full custody of his son. Yippee, right? I mean, who better to understand the world of a single parent than another single parent?

So, I listened intently to his story, and found myself making the most tacky assumptions -- out loud! He mentioned something about his ex-wife being a stripper, and I made some asinine, backwoods, archaic comments like, "Oh, so your ex-wife was a stripper -- that's how you managed to get custody of your son." Please read my cringing between the lines.

I can't believe I said something like that. I didn't mean it to be as demeaning as it, well, as it actually was. Open mouth, insert foot. And I'm supposed to be leaving my current relationship so that I can get myself into more Ms. Manners Predicaments like this one?

Now, here I sit -- not only threatened with eternal spinster-hood, no hope that there is any tangible relationship out there that can provide me with the few things I regard as basic needs -- but also in need of purchasing an "I'm Sorry I'm Such a Thoughtless Twit" card for the Lumber Man. I don't think it is safe for me to be unleashed on the world. I don't know where to go from here, and I know you're just the Superhero to help me.

-- CJanelleS

Dear CJanelleS,

D'oh! Don't you wish the hardware store would -- if you keep your receipt -- take back what you said?

But no. So try your best not to listen to the sounds of one person kicking herself. Instead:

Listen to your mother.

Listen to yourself. Everything up to "...invest so much of my heart and soul" -- and especially the part about the "I Can't Do Any Better" monster, whose gurlglings you should duly ignore.

And by the way, you do realize that that's who piped up at Home Depot. I mean sure, we all have random foot-in-mouth catastrophes. And this could always be that. But here's what I think is your trick: some people say, "I'm afraid of rejection, so I won't talk to people." You say, "I'm afraid of rejection -- but, as I stated in my letter to BG, I know better than to seek the path of least resistance -- soooooo...I'll talk to people and make sure to say something rejectionable!" Clever girl!

So if you do want to go back and tackle you fixer-upper guy, be my guest. You never know; he might find flustered contrition adorable. But in general, if you think think this verbal self-sabotage in particular might or has become a pattern, then maybe do like I told Passionate and try Mindfulness Meditation (bet no one's ever done it in a hardware store. Stop, think, speak (flirt). You never know, it might appear...mysterious. And it just might keep you out of trouble.

Kudos, though, for piping up with this guy -- and whomever else -- in the first place. Total Flirtation Continuum -- where, if you recall, clunkers are great-letter-making clunkers, not close brushes with social death. Don't throw out the babe with the bath water; keep at it. Maybe here.

Love,
Breakup Girl

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