Monthly Archives: September 2016

Everyone To The Center!

Aljamer_SM.BOUALAMI believe wholeheartedly in the saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”. The first time I heard it I was a kid and I remember thinking, ewww, yuck! I would never want those people anywhere near me. Why would you ever want the people you like the least, the ones you don’t trust, those who have hurt you closer to you than your friends? But I get it now. You keep them in close so you can control them. It’s a great strategy, and it works.

It gets tricky, though, because you have to use your powers for good. If you’re going to gather your enemies up into the fold and hold them close, you can’t fuck them over later. Continue reading

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The Wild Horses

Feral_stallions_fighting-_Pryor_Mountain_Wild_Horse_Range_-_MontanaI knew I’d blown the interview as soon as I’d said it. My prospective employer asked about my biggest challenges, to which I replied that a therapist once told me my personality at work was like wild horses that needed to be harnessed and brought into line together. I watched as the interviewer blanched and slightly recoiled from me across the table.

Was it my cavalier mention of therapy? My direct and rigorously honest self-assessment? Or was it the image of my wild horses running amok in her shop? Well, I gotta be me, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned during my career, trying to hide or downplay my outrageous personality doesn’t work. Stuffing leads to resentment, which leads to hostility and acting out, followed by righteous resignation. No, it’s much better for anyone considering hiring me to know upfront who they’re getting–a dynamic, driven, ambitious, outspoken and high-maintenance individual who will work like, well, a team of draft horses for the right boss. The wrong boss, however, can expect to be trampled by the herd. Continue reading

Exploring The Borderline, Pt. 2

ceramic_280Continued from Tuesday…

I met him at a time my friend group was at a low number, having moved back to my hometown after years away. I’d not left home with many friends, and those few did not remain when I returned. I was seeking friends, and a lifestyle that conformed to the way I felt the back half of my 20s should look–parties, going out, popularity among groups. He was cool, an icon of hip bachelorhood in the social circles in which he moved. He was legendary–people spoke his name as though it was a state of being or personality type. Because of his reputation I expected him to be unapproachable and coolly removed. Instead, he was friendly and engaging right back at me, and I was attracted to his twinkling eyes and ready smile. It turned out we were both interested in music, and liked a lot of the same bands, and so making that first invitation, to hit a show together, was easy and obvious. Continue reading

Exploring The Borderline

brick-texture-1390574943JHjThe way I knew to do relationships was to find the least available, most aloof, detached, disinterested person in the room and fling myself at them, a full-court press. I dazzled them with my attention, affection, caring and consideration. The more they ignored me, the more I wanted them. I would make myself into someone they wanted, prove to them my worthiness. I would do this by showing great interest in their experience, asking about them and listening intently, remembering details. I would do this by showering them with thoughtful little notes and gifts. I would do this by making myself completely available to them, their whims and fancies. I would do this by giving them anything I perceived them as wanting, and asking for nothing in return. The lengths that I would go to…just to prove I was worth loving. It was extremely dysfunctional, it didn’t work, and I got hurt a lot. I scared people off with my relentless pursuing, or attracted the wrong people. I went along this way for nearly the first three decades of my life before I realized I was going to need to make some major interpersonal changes if I was going to have the kind of life I wanted. This was the way I attracted Borderlines to me. Continue reading

Simpering No More

facebook_1468777847097I used to believe simpering was my greatest power, my secret interpersonal weapon. I affected a coquettish persona, donned the mask which I believed was the key to moving through the world. Later, a therapist and I named this simpering mask the “sex kitten”, as we worked to understand the connection between her and my blackout drinking. But before all that, I learned that if I widened my eyes, batted my lashes and ducked my head a little, people melted. I learned that if I asked for things in a singsong tone or a baby voice they seemed to come easier. Especially with men. Men were helpless against the almighty simper. They figuratively dropped to their knees, palms open, anything and everything on offer. They got out of the way. Or let me hide behind them. They handed whatever it was right over. I smiled and giggled in return, to close the deal. I didn’t know another way. Continue reading

Don’t Be Crazy

2103262965_32d536c325_bI’m a modern woman, so I navigate my relationships with an almost singular goal in mind: Don’t be crazy.

When he calls, answer. And don’t be crazy. When he doesn’t call, don’t sweat it.  Don’t be crazy. If he hangs out with you, play cool. Don’t be crazy.  If he declines the invite, that’s fine.  He’s got his life.  Don’t be crazy.  If he tells you you’re special, that’s great.  Appreciate it.  Don’t be crazy. If you’re not sure, remember you’re independent.  Don’t get crazy.  Don’t be too eager.  Don’t be too distant.  Don’t punish him with your feelings.  Figure that shit out.  You’re not crazy; don’t be crazy. Continue reading

Crickets

20160829_223119I spent the better part of last week in New York City, a very special place I consider my spiritual home. About five years ago I made a decision I wanted to try to get there annually, until I can find a way to spend a season there (life goals). Years before that, I went there the first time as a wide-eyed 24 year-old and it grabbed a hold of me, frozen early-March weather notwithstanding. My first awareness of New York came straight from the Daryl Hannah/Tom Hanks Little Mermaid-inspired (the HCA fairytale, not Disney) romance Splash, set in early-80’s Manhattan. And of course the film where The Muppets take it.

New York loomed large in my imagination, the American center of grit and cool, of massive proportions. Continue reading