Is It Love… or the Idea of Love

I'll never forget it. It was a night much like this one, loosened white swirls against a blackened night, stars glittering like veiled sequins across God's canvas. I'd stayed home that evening. Gone for a late walk after midnight. The dreams had come fiercely, and while I'd known their fierceness in the past, the past month had been something new. Something desperate. Something needed. The street had been quiet, as always, as I stumbled towards the small house that I, along with my ten housemates, now called home. And yet, I couldn't go inside. With every glance at the stars I found sadness, a great, unvarnished look into a heart that lay quietly dying. It shouldn't have been surprising. Not for someone who prided himself on his self-awareness and tendency towards introspection. But we all have blind spots, especially in matters of the heart. That was the night I realized that while I had known love, what I'd known better was the idea of love. I saw how it had sustained bad relationships. Saw how I had fooled myself into believing that they were the same. Realized that whatever I knew about love, most of it was second hand, lines from movies and well written discourses on the greatest of human mysteries.

That night I asked God for a second chance.

***

We don't realize it, but beyond the oil and consuming, the concept of love drives Western culture more than anything else. All of our art forms are faithful in their dedication towards her. And yet, love is mostly a new thing. We write her into our historical novels and plays and movies, we read psalms and poetry that endeavor to unmask her power and enhance it, and still, we forget the truth behind these mythical notions. When it comes to romance, love is yet in her infancy. Most of what we read is misread, and most of the great love stories have been misrepresented. Love, as it exists in our minds and our culture, is less than a hundred years old.

Oh, I know, you'll hear the commentators scoff at such at notion. Love is eternal, they'll say. Love has always existed. And it has… but not in the romantic form with which we so deeply consider it now. Love, that which we see and feel in the moonlight and quiet music, exists only between equals. Do I really love someone who I consider less than myself? Do I really love someone who is not my equal? Perhaps, as a master loves a slave or an owner loves a pet. But what poet captures the imagination of the world writing an ode to their horse or dog? We may not like it, but the idea of love is the blinding light of a society that claims equality but does not grant it. It is the fruit on the dish of ice cream that talks of healthy eating. Worse, the idea of love is sold as the real thing. It binds men and women in unequal relationships, and creates new stories, new myths, to convince people that what they experience is in fact, the ideal. So hungry are people for the real thing that we will swallow the lie, the new myths (which are nothing more than the retelling of old stories), and believe that we have indeed, found love.

It is impossible to count how often we hear the word 'love', during our daily routine, suffice to say that we hear it enough to diminish her meaning and power. Everyone loves everyone, and all who find themselves in romantic entanglements admit to love, though most people are not happy. That sounds harsh, but how else do we explain the separation of people who have said they love each other? How else to explain the domestic violence so rampant throughout our culture? And the church is not exempt. Both the rates of divorce and domestic violence are higher in the church than for those outside the church. (Though not by much) Somewhere, somehow, we have convinced ourselves that the most important part of our life is that it is shared with someone else. More than simply status, she is the very manner in which we define ourselves and the success of our lives. And so, we cannot tell if it is love, or the idea of love, with which we are so enamored.

The end result is not pleasant. We are given books and writings designed to help us create love and stimulate love, and yet no one mentions just how mysterious she is, or how uneasily she should be defined. She is young still, and most often those that claim to know her know only what others have told them. The best relationships are often unexplainable, and offer only hints as to their vitality. For as much as we'd like to duplicate its impact, love has not easily surrendered her secrets.

***

I have been in love before, but until these past two years, I have not truly known her power. How could I? I believed that men were superior to women. We still teach that, you know. Especially within religion, though not exclusively so. In fact, great swaths of our society teach the greatest obstacle to love as a pathway to her arms. Its sadly ironic, but mostly sad. In the theatre of our romantic discourse we discuss roles and obligations, lists and keys for both sexes, pitfalls and pragmatic tips for finding the most mysterious of human giftings. And still, she eludes us. So much so that we settle for the idea of love, and make excuses for both our failing to find her and the relationship we find ourselves in, which we know lacks her presence.

I once thought that if I ever knew what love was, if I ever had another chance at her, that I would be able to offer advice to the many people starving for a taste of her presence. I was wrong. The more I find her in my relationship with my wife, the less I comprehend. I do not know why she graces us with her presence, and I do not understand why she has chosen me. What I do know is that one night I stood beneath the stars and asked for a second chance. And God, the One who identifies himself as love, saw fit to answer my prayer.

For all of her wonder, love is the most humbling presence of all, and to have discovered her so late in life is a gift beyond words. My hope is that you will not falter when the world offers you the idea, and wait instead for her beguiling presence, a presence that will shift the very core of your being. She is young still, this love, but she is powerful beyond words. And if she touches you, your life will never be the same.

-Steve

One Thing We All Hate… And Need (for better relationships)

"I still don't get it. Why can't you tell him?"

"He'll go crazy. You know what Aaron's like."

I sighed but didn't push it. Aaron was my friend, though I spent more time with Ginny, his wife, since we worked together. I sighed again and glanced around the cafeteria. A few Grade Eight kids were hanging out at one of the tables, but other than that it was quiet. I was working with an autistic student in the school, but he hadn't shown up today, so I'd been doing some paperwork when Ginny sat down across from me. She was small, with curly red hair, and a timid air when she talked about herself.

"Listen, Aaron's a good guy. If you think he's flirting too much, then just tell him. He probably doesn't even realize it." I said.

Aaron was a teacher as well, tall and lean, with voice like a low hammer. We'd hung out a couple of times when the schools got together for an event.

Ginny shook her head.

"I can't. He'll think I'm possessive or jealous, that I don't trust him."

So why are you telling me? Ginny was nice, and she was a friend, but it was hard listening to your friends complain when they were so unwilling to do anything about it. Still, I knew what it was to be afraid to be honest with people. When I was twenty-one, I interned as a young adult pastor. In my review at the end of the year, my Senior Pastor's remarks included a comment that I'd never forgotten. "Until Steve is willing to face his fear of confrontation, he will never be the leader he can be." At the time, I really didn't understand it. I'd always thought avoiding confrontation to be something of a skill. And yet, he'd not only remarked on my tendency to avoid it, but that this was somehow a bad thing. When I asked him about it later, he told me that I was going out of my way to avoid certain issues, and that unless I dealt with them, they would never get resolved. That was what a good leader did, he said. He also mentioned that it was impossible to grow in our faith if we were unwilling to look in the mirror and be honest with ourselves.

It didn't help that so many people grew up in "quietly tense" homes. The older generations seemed to delight in this idea of "sucking it up" and not saying anything when an issue needed to be addressed. Or blaming the inability to properly communicate on gender differences. ("Who can understand a woman, Steve? They're SO different!") Unfortunately, from what I'd seen of these marriages, even the ones that had lasted twenty five years, it wasn't something I really wanted in my own life. It wasn't like you got a gold star for years of service. For me, it was pretty simple. If your relationships sucked, especially the one with your significant other, than your life did too. It was the reason I was in the process of getting divorced. It also meant that I really wasn't one to talk. Most of the 'confrontations' in our house had been punctuated by yelling and hurt feelings. Still Ginny had asked, so I figured I would try to answer her question.

Honestly, Ginny, there's nothing wrong with a bit of jealousy. It means you care. I don't mean the controlling kind, but jeez, if what he's doing bothers you, you have to say something. Otherwise, you're going to have to put up with it for the rest of your life. And let me tell you, if you can't be honest with one another, marriage sucks."

"Well, you would know about that." She said, flicking her hair.

I took a deep breath and didn't respond.

"I'm sorry, Steve." She said, reading my face. "It's just that, well, marriage is difficult. Relationships are not so simple." She smiled at me like I was one of her students. "You can't just tell someone what's bothering you because maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe we just need to talk about it to vent a little, and then it will be okay." She paused. "I know I feel better. Thanks."

The bell rang, and kids started piling into the hallway.

"I gotta go. Bye, Steve."

I waved, and managed to put a crooked grin on my face, though it fell as soon as she'd left. What did I know about relationships, I thought. I'm the biggest failure here. I still felt like I'd made the right decision about my marriage. It'd been mutual, and we'd both seen how destructive it had become. Maybe Ginny was right though. Maybe I just hadn't learned to 'suck it up' like so many people did in their marriages. Hell, and their friendships, for that matter.

I turned back to my work, but the characters might as well have been Egyptian hieroglyphs. I wondered if one day I'd get another chance to prove my theory about honesty. It was ridiculous to think that I would be single forever, but when you're going through a divorce, it's how you feel. One day, I thought.

***

I think the first time I heard the word "confrontation" was watching a baseball game as a kid. Face to face, the pitcher trying to either throw the ball past the hitter or induce him to hit it to one of the guys on the pitcher's team. I also heard it mentioned as something that happened between countries, but in terms of relationships, well, it wasn't until I was nearly done high school that I heard it mentioned in that context. And when I did hear it, the implication was that confrontations were something nasty, and always led to a fight or an argument, or God forbid, a breakup. Confrontation was bad because it led to conflict, which was also bad. In fact, the two words were nearly always used as synonyms. And in relationships, romantic or otherwise, the best thing to do was to avoid both. It took me a long time to understand that not only were the two words radically different, but that one of them was necessary for a healthy relationship.

By definition, to confront someone means to "to stand or come in front of; stand or meet facing." Conflict, on the other hand, is a "struggle or clash between opposing forces." Confrontation generally precipitates conflict, but they aren't the same thing, and while both have negative connotations to them, a confrontation does not HAVE to be something negative. In fact, a great deal of our relational woes stem directly from our belief that confrontation is bad and needs to be avoided at all costs. When that happens however, we start down a road from which many relationships never recover.

***

The wind swept hard across the water, rustling the waves against the dock so that it creaked loudly in the morning sunlight. I was sitting on the deck of the cottage with my notebook, nibbling on the end of my pen. The pine trees swayed across the lake, climbing the low rise north above the water. It was a breathtaking view, crystallized in the wind and sun, and one I wanted to take with me when we left later that morning. There'd been ten of us, sharing the cottage for three days of sun and fun. Inevitably, especially with the rainy weather the day before, there had been some brush ups and blow ups. Two nights earlier, I'd suddenly become very upset with my best friend because he'd beaten me at chess, and I had missed the two key moves he'd made to win the game. (If it sounds ridiculous, um, that's because it was… ) I went outside for a few minutes, realized that I was being an idiot, and apologized. After that, things were fine. It made me think about how often we brush against one another, especially in groups and families, and how little we are prepared to handle confrontations. Unless you major in something like social work or psychology or counseling, the skills necessary for learning how to confront people will not be something you learn in school. And yet, if we were all just a little better at it, it would make our lives so much easier, with much less tension, and the reason for that is simple. In every community, be it a marriage, a group of friends, a family, or a church, someone will inevitably act in a selfish and unhealthy matter. If it's allowed to fester, it will not only affect the group dynamics, but it will become one of the defining forces within the group or couple as well.

Ginny never addressed the issue of flirting with her husband, never confronted him with it. If they're still married, it will not only still be an issue, it will be, in fact, one of the predominant characteristics of how she defines her relationship. The same is true within families and groups of friends. If there is an issue that you cannot confront, an issue that you cannot talk about, then you have assigned that issue as one of the cornerstones of the way you will relate to the others in the group.

It's not hard to figure why we avoid confrontation. Why I avoided it for so many years. Frankly, it's difficult, and it requires humility and vulnerability. There's also a tendency to think, as I used to, that confrontation requires anger and yelling and tears. It doesn't. The reason people get angry when confronting others is because anger helps drive away the fears that control so many of us. Our fears of rejection. Of being alone. Of being not liked. Our fear of wrecking other relationships or worrying that people will think we're a jerk. Anger helps us, momentarily, to push past these fears. But anger is a double edged sword, and when we use it to confront people, the end result is conflict.

***

Confrontational Tips

So, what to do? The first thing is to practice confrontation on ourselves. I keep a journal every day, just a couple of paragraphs, and challenge how I responded to things the day before. Did I honour God the way I should yesterday? Am I loving people the way I'm supposed to? How did I handle things at work and with my friends? Am I being too cynical? (A particularly challenging one for me.) You will have different questions, depending on what your self-identified weaknesses are and what your goals are in life. (You don't have to journal but I find it helpful.)

But understand this: you have no right to confront anyone about anything until you are willing to confront yourself.

We've all known people who criticize others and make people feel like crap without checking the mirror. The heart of positive confrontations is the humility inherent in identifying the other person's shared humanity. When you are used to honestly confronting your own behavior, you will be better equipped when someone else challenges you. And if you can listen to someone else's honest critique about your behavior, you have given yourself a terrific tool for your relationships that most people do not possess. Why? Because people who can confront themselves have little difficulty confronting others in a quiet, tactful manner.

The second thing is understanding that tone makes a difference. (No anger allowed. If you're angry, you're not ready.) So do words and expressions. "Perhaps", "maybe", "I'm not sure", "this makes me feel", are all good choices. Remember that the goal of confrontation is to solve an issue, and that it is hard to for people to hear negative things about themselves or their behaviour, especially if they genuinely don't realize what they're doing. Having spent a number of years working with the developmentally disabled, I'm sensitive to people who park in the handicap spots without the proper sticker. I will ALWAYS confront them. However, I keep my tone polite, and usually say something along the lines of "I'm not sure you noticed the sign, sir, but this is a reserved spot." Anyone fit to drive can see the sign, but the point isn't my self-righteous indignation or feeling superior because I wouldn't park there, the point is to get them to move and feel the weight of what they're doing, and always in quiet tones. (And yes, they always move.)

In terms of our relationships, confrontation is the only way to wipe out the power of fear that girds so much of our lives. We let our fears dictate the outcome of our relational choices, and we end up feeling trapped or miserable because we refuse to ask the hard questions of both ourselves and the people around us.

In many ways, it is not unlike standing across a lake and staring at the green grass and quiet fields of peace and contentment on the other side. The bridge however, the one we call Confrontation, looks shaky and small, something only Indiana Jones could cross. The reason it looks so small is that like all skills, confrontation takes practice. In time, it gets easier and the bridge widens. But it's still something we'll probably dislike, if not hate. Who likes looking in the mirror? Who likes telling others things that are hard to hear? Without confrontation however, we are inevitably relegated to below standard relationships, and ultimately, a below standard life.

My prayer this week is that you'll take up the challenge of confrontation. Go for a walk and think about some of the fears both in you, and your relationships, that need to be addressed. I know we like to say that relationships are complicated, and sometimes they are, but too often the complications arise out of our tendency to avoid the issues that matter the most with our loved ones. Stop letting Fear run your life, and have the courage to take the first step towards a life that is not only your own, but yours to give away.

-Steve

One Myth that will Destroy Your Relationship: Part II

Rome, around 49 A.C.E.

Paul's letter to the Colossians is dated somewhere around 50 A.C.E., a couple of decades past the death of Jesus. In his letters we find the admonishment for men to be the spiritual leader in their homes, and for women to submit to their husbands. Children are to submit to their parents, and slaves to their masters. This 'family codex' is also found, in varying degrees, in his letters to Timothy and to the Ephesians. Rome was an advanced civilization, and for all that it is flogged as being a cruel empire, many of our modern ideals, such as democracy, find at least some of their basis in Roman society. Rome, unlike its neighbours to the East, believed in the equality of its citizens. And while there was still the sharp distinction between the rich and the poor, the concept of fairness had never before so permeated a great society. In the east, in countries like Egypt, caste ruled, and to whom you were born mattered more than your abilities or temperament. Rome's failing, in regards to its democracy, was in its patriarchal nature. (Unlike Egypt, where caste actually mattered more than sex) Its ideas about a republic mattered only if you were a man. Women had set roles. They were property. To be loved and cherished, yes, but as a woman you were not considered a full member of society. The concept of a woman with power was held only in the matriarchal nature of the home, and the mother's influence over her son or the wife's influence over her husband. (Caesar Augustus, in fact, created quite a stir by including his second wife, in some of his councils)

Back then, Christianity was still little more than a new Jewish sect, and highly misunderstood. Christians, those who claimed to follow the dead rabbi, Yeshua, were thought to be cannibals and worse. The Near East was a bubbling cauldron, for the Jews had never accepted Roman rule easily. Romans allowed people to worship whatever gods they wanted, Romans themselves held to a vast number of them, but some things were inviolate, the family code being one of them. They would not tolerate a new religion that sought to upset the balance of pax romana. Paul's inclusion of the 'family codex', according to many scholars, was as much to prevent the Romans (who saw the letters as they were passed from church to church) from persecuting this new religion as it was to instruct how families were to be construed.

Regardless, when Christianity was adopted as the state religion by Constantine, the family/slave codex remained in place. For nearly 1400 years, the idea of family, of slaves, and of a person's place in the world went without any great challenge. Three things happened however, that completely changed the way civilization was constructed. The first was the Protestant reformation, which was as political as it was religious. Martin Luther's idea that individuals did not need an intermediary between themselves and God was revelatory, and set in motion the concept of individualism something the world had never seen, at least, not in any great measure. It also signaled the continued fragmentation of Christendom, when the German church sided with Luther (or used him, depending on who you read) to establish their independence. As change swept across Europe, an important distinction between laws and customs was born. Feudalism and the old forms of governing shattered. Aided by the steady migration to cities, the ideals of Christian perfectionism were replaced by the dual forces of industrialization and capitalism. There is some argument as to when the Industrial Revolution began, but most historians' credit it to the textile innovations in the British textile industry in the 1760's. The Industrial Revolution changed everything, in that it replaced people with machines, and production increased so greatly it would lead to something else the world had never seen, the individual consumer. In the 1770's, the "fashion craze" made its first appearance (to the masses). In 1776, for example, the "in" color in London was something called couleur de noisette. Everyone who was anyone was wearing dove gray.

Capitalism proved to be a universal solvent, eating away at the social bonds between people in a given society as well as cultural barriers that once served to separate one society for another. In place of codes and doctrines, family or feudal ties, religious or caste codes, there was nothing left but the understanding of earned (not inherited) wealth that was available to all.

What does this have to do with gender roles? How does this affect my relationship?

Gender roles in our society are largely determined by our continuing commitment to pre-modern ideas, those that existed in both the time of Christendom, and before. This is true regardless of your religious affiliation. The idea that a man or a woman has a certain role to play was created in cultures where the roles were not only protected by custom, but by law. Whether you believe the apostle Paul was including a codex to protect the young sect from Roman persecution or not is irrelevant. How could Paul instruct equality, such as we understand it, in a time where women were neither allowed to engage in the political process or hold lands in their own name? And certainly the understanding that slavery is wrong is equally at play here, since it is included in the codex. And yet, while we have (largely) rejected slavery as immoral, we continue to define a woman's role by the same text of Scripture. And to do so now, in a culture that praises and promises individualism, we are destined to create havoc in relationships.

It is one of the greatest follies of our culture. From the time little girls and boys go to school, we define them by their own consequences, by what they do and what they become. And yet, when they enter into relationships as adults, we look to books regarding gender to better understand them! Why? Because we lack the surety of having our role dictated to us. Freedom is nice, but often it is easier to accept "my place" than to fight for a place of our own design. The other aspect, of course, is that men like the authourity that it gives them, which often makes their commitment to "individualism – equal rights for all" – less than enthusiastic.

Individualism is not perfect. I hate feeling as though everything I see is a commodity. That everything, including my faith and friends, are all for sale. Such is the destruction of capitalist individualism. However, it has brought some good things with it. And the greatest of these lie in our personal relationships. Why, for example, would we continue to choose "GENDER" as a dividing line on which to base our relational questions, when we have learned that INDIVIDUAL PERSONALITY is a far better tool for getting to know our partner. And why do we insist on divisive language? "Different" is a word we use easily, but it is nearly always used pejoratively when it comes to relationships. Women and men are not different, people are different. So long as we think of our partner as being "different" simply because of their gender, we will continue to miss opportunities to get to know them better. (A great help is for both of you to take a personality test, which you can find here.)

There are some things that I'm not good at. Like cars. Yes, I'm male, but I've never quite understood the fascination with cars and trucks. My wife, however loves them. She's also more adept at fixing things around the house and understanding finances. Me? Well, I tend to be a good communicator, and I am inordinately empathetic. I am not less of a man, nor is my wife less of a woman, but by the standards set in most 'relational' books, we would fail most "relational" tests. And so I did, many times, and almost always because I insisted on identifying myself as a man, and not as an individual. Not as someone unique and special and loved by God, but as someone born with certain physical attributes. So long as we hold to the myth, long developed and still powerful, that men and women are different, we will continue to have difficulties in our relationships.

People are people. Change your language. Stop thinking in terms of gender. ("Oh, you know those boys!" or "You can't figure women!") Find out who your teammate is as an individual, and focus on those things. You'll notice the difference, and wonder why you hadn't seen it before.

-Steve

Authour's Note: I know that I am guilty of what historians call reductionism, but in light of the vast amount of material that I was wading through and the space on a site like this, I did the best I could. That said, the historical material is there to simply give you a better arc, a bridge, if you like, between ancient and modern culture and the role it still plays in how we determine gender roles.

One Myth that will Destroy your Relationship

Spring, 1989

The sun was high overhead and hot, and it beat down as I played with two of the dogs in the run area, the early spring heat mitigated only slightly by a light breeze blowing in off the canal. The dogs, both German Shepherd mixes, had their tongues out, but they looked over at me, ready for more. They didn't get to play very much, and even in the heat, they had a lot of energy. The slate gray building next to us, with its blue aluminum roof, had always evoked sadness for me. The Welland Humane Society was a place of suffering. Most of the animals would never find a home. Like the two dogs now sitting in the grass with me, people weren't interested in the adults and the mixed breeds. Purebreds, on the rare occasion when one was dropped off, would sometimes find a home. And puppies and kittens had a good chance of being adopted. But the adult female cat, with her ear slightly torn and raggedy fur, would not attract much attention. Neither would the eight year old Shepherd/Collie mix. Walking through their kennels, listening to their steady cries, was upsetting, so unlike my mother and sister (who I admired), I rarely came out to help. It was too painful.

I brought the dogs back inside and made sure they had water before locking them up again. The vet, Doc Paulson, was in the cat room, and I wandered over. He was checking a new group of kittens. He lifted the tail of each one and jotted something down on his clipboard.

"What are you doing, Doc?" I asked him.

"Checking to see which one is a boy and which is a girl."

I bent over behind his shoulder.

"How can you tell?"

"Well, just lift their tails. The boys look like they have a colon. The girls have a semi-colon."

I checked, and sure enough, it was the best way to describe it.

"What if they have an exclamation mark?" I said.

He looked at me and smiled slightly, but kept on with his examinations. I chuckled at my own wit, and decided to head home. Semi colon and colon, I thought. That was funny, and completely different from people. Girls were so different from guys, they were like another species. I'd heard that a number of times from both my peers and adults, but I'd experienced it the past year for the first time when Nat had broken up with me suddenly to date another guy. Just thinking about my ex-girlfriend soured my mood, and when I got home I immediately went to the two pictures of us that I'd kept. We were smiling and holding each other. I was a bit of a late bloomer, and at seventeen, Nat had been my first girlfriend. I was sure that we'd be together for a long time. I still didn't know what had happened. I looked at the sheet which I'd folded the pictures into, where I'd written my last good bye. I'm sure I will love again, but I will always miss you. I'd penned it in my scratching printing. I held the photos in my hand, feeling the catch in my throat, as my gaze drifted to the Richard Marx mixed tape I'd made for her sitting on my desk. I'd never had the chance to give it to her. Women? Who could understand women? They were so different, and, I thought, just a little bit cruel.

Spring, 1996

The email sat on the screen in front of me, and I stared at it uncomprehendingly. Normally I liked getting email, it was one of the coolest new things about the whole technology thing. No more stamps or long letters or waiting for a reply. You simply clicked SEND and it showed up in someone else's mail box. This email, however, made my throat clench and my eyes well up. It was my third year of Bible College, and I'd already started my ministry. I'd pastored for two years and was speaking to crowds and conventions around the province. I hadn't "made it" yet, but I was making progress. God had great plans for me. Well, for me and *Diane. At least, that's what I'd thought. I stared at the email. How could Diane be breaking up with me? We were supposed to be together forever. Isn't that what it meant when you told people that you loved one another? I could feel all the energy drain from my limbs, and I sat there for a long time before the sobs started coming, slowly at first, but faster until I was weeping into my pillow.

The next day I was distraught. I knew that we'd been having some issues, knew that I wasn't perfect, but there had to be something for me to do. I thought about all the movies I'd watched where the couple had broken up, only to be reunited in the end. Yes. That's what I would do. I would win her back, woo her and court her the way a man was supposed to love a woman. Clearly, I'd failed somewhere. Women were different than men, I needed to remember that. I skipped my morning class and headed to the campus bookstore, where I found a treasure. It was an older book, but I'd heard the authour's name before. Gary Smalley. If Only He Knew. As I read through the small, but dense, text, I realized just how little I knew about women. They weren't just different, they WERE another species. According to Smalley, they responded to things in a manner that was completely foreign to men. I took out my red pen and underlined all the things about women that I had never really known. (Which was a lot) Of course Diane had broken up with me, I thought! I gritted my teeth, and sent a long email back to her. I'd screwed up. I listed fifty two things from the book (that I needed to change) and waited anxiously to hear back. A week passed. Then another. Yet another, and still no word from the love of my life. I was a wreck, and I shuffled through my days, despondent and broken. I thought about my professors, who'd all agreed with Smalley, that men needed to be the spiritual leader in their relationships. All my professors but one. Ron, who was stout and balding, insisted that he and his wife were equal leaders, whatever that meant. We all kind of laughed at him, but he was a nice guy, and we didn't give him grief about his unbiblical view. No, the others were right. I had not been a strong spiritual leader in our relationship. And now, I was paying the freight.

Finally, after about a month, I received an email from my love. I could feel my heart thundering in my chest as I scanned it, and just as quickly, felt my stomach dive. It was polite and short. She asked how I was doing and about my family. There was nothing in her email about my revelations from Smalley's book. There was nothing about our future. There was, it seemed, no future at all for our relationship. The tears came quickly this time, but I didn't try to hold them back. I'd failed to be the man, according to Smalley and my professors, so how could I hope that she could feel right as my woman? If there was one thing I'd learned, it was that the differences between men and women were legion, but if a man did not take charge of his relationship, well, that was the greatest crime of them all. As the months passed I thought about the email, thought about how different women were from men, and wondered, mostly, how they could be so cruel.

Spring, 2010

They sit on my shelves still, and even here, in the quiet library I've started to call home, I can see them if I close my eyes. Battle of the Sexes. Strong Men, Weak Men. His Needs, Her Needs. Lovebusters. Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Men, Women, and Relationships. How to be a Real Man. Even the first relationship book I bought back when I was twenty two, If Only He Knew, as still there, marked with my scrabbly red pen. For nearly a decade I read every book I could get my hands on in trying to understand the opposite sex. I had good motivation. After my break up with Diane, I convinced another girl to marry me, only to watch that dissolve as well. Something was missing in my understanding of women, I knew that, I just didn't know what it was. And so I read, listened to sermons and talks on relationships. None of them helped very much. At least, not until after I was divorced. There had to be a secret, a key to relationships, something I could do to change things. I didn't like being single very much. It was okay, but I was never much of a 'player'. And I liked women well enough, I just didn't understand them. I was dogged though, because I knew that if I didn't figure them out, I was destined to be single (or in a bad relationship) for the rest of my life.

The library is quiet this morning. There is the quiet clicking from the front desk, and a murmured conversation in the corner. Mostly though, it is the hum of the air conditioner reverberating through the shelves and desks, along with the faint smell of books I love so much. The revelation about relationships did not come in a single moment for me, but it was processed over time. The reading helped, but not the way I imagine it would. The more I read, the more I realized that the books I was reading were inherently wrong. They all talked about the differences between men and women, as if these differences were cast in stone. Yes, men and women were physiologically different, that much I understood. But whether it was John Gray or Gary Smalley, there seemed to be a presumption of personality as well. Men were like this. Women were like that. Sometimes, when I'd read the sections about men, I wouldn't be able to identify with them at all. In fact, there were a number of ways in which I identified with the women, at least as they were described in the books. Some of the books did give some nuggets, such as the one that talked about our "emotional bank account", which has helped me enormously through the years.

But by and large the relational books all made the same mistake. They all held to the premise that men and women were different, and in so doing promulgated the greatest and most destructive myth of them all: That if you wanted your marriage to work, you needed to understand the opposite SEX before you could have a healthy relationship.

The widespread nature of this casually accepted myth was not only powerful, but held sway over the hearts and minds of a culture that should know better. The reasons for that however, were easily explained. Unfortunately, they were often disregarded, especially by those who had built their lives (and relationships) on a wrong ideal, and were loath to admit otherwise. To understand it better though, we needed to go back a ways, to previous civilizations.

-Steve (Go up to see Part II)

Finding Mr./Mrs Right: Final Thoughts

It had been a hot summer, and today was no different. I could feel the sweat sliding down my stomach as I walked, heading south along Yonge street towards my client's condo. The huge buildings seemed to cradle the heat in the mass of concrete and steel, but a cool breeze that somehow managed to sweep past the man made towers helped make the walk bearable. My sunglasses had snapped apart a day earlier, forcing me to squint at the people traveling the sidewalks and the ones relaxing on the various patios that lined the street.

The past three days had been interesting, if not exhausting, as I'd waded through the large and emotional reaction my last article had generated. I'd thought it blunt, to be sure, but the anger had been visceral. Triggering an emotional response was usually a good thing for a writer, as it usually meant that you'd managed to engage your readers, but this time I wasn't sure. Twenty five hundred words was not enough space to include everything (you really needed something book length) about a topic like finding a partner. It had been written as a guide for singles, but I found a great deal of the responses coming from married and divorced women with children. I still wasn't sure what to do with that.

Up ahead, I noticed a couple of university age girls crossing the street. They were both slim, with long dark hair. The one on the left was wearing pink booty shorts cut so high that there wasn't much left to the imagination. Her t-shirt was rolled up and pulled tight. Her friend was wearing white corduroy shorts, also rolled up into her cheeks, and a black, low cut shirt with a V-neck scoop that almost went to her navel. They were laughing as they walked, seemingly oblivious to people around them. They passed through the Starbucks patio on the corner, walking between the packed tables. I watched the men as the girls strolled past, and without exception they all looked (one of the guys was not so subtle and simply stared at them) at the girls. Everyone noticed them, I thought. Like they were merchants with goods. Or female versions of Matthew McConaughey. I thought too about my article, and how many women found a man's analysis always tinged with either boorishness ("Oooh… those young women… soooo hot!")or disingenuous protestations that they preferred modesty ("I saw them, but I was disgusted. They should cover up.") I figured they were probably right. And since I'd mentioned in my article that my wife was a very fit size 2, a number of the people who'd read it had taken offense to my seemingly shallow capitulation. (Steve must be the boorish one!)

The idea of someone being fit as being more attractive to the opposite sex is not exactly a breakthrough in thermonuclear physics. However, getting fit solely to attract a partner isn't healthy. When I was a young Fundamentalist zealot, I would have looked at those girls, enjoyed the view, and then buried those feelings in dark, self-righteous comments about how "women should be modest" and "women shouldn't act so sleazy." As some of you who have read the comments from the previous article would know, back then I was hyper about my girlfriend being fit (who did the right thing by um, releasing me, and marrying a great guy who had the guy-girl thing better figured than I did at the time), and also about controlling what she wore. And that, I think, is one of the dark sides of not only the fitness industry, but culturally as well. When we (read:men) regard our partners as sex objects designed for our fulfillment.

Fitness should be used primarily as a tool to lift up someone's sense of well being. Unfortunately, under the dishonest gaze of most religions, fitness and sexuality are inevitably linked, and it's always destructive. Some cultures require women to wear a robe (e.g. a burka) that covers their entire body, or states that a woman can not, for example, swim with men. The woman is akin to the serpent. She is the temptation. Men are pure, but are tempted by women, who CAUSE them to sin. This is patriarchal garbage, on any level, and I refuse to accept as valid any religion or culture who so demeans half of humanity. Women should wear what they want. So should men. And as soon as we say, well, "she was advertising sex" we might as well drape a robe over her body. We are just as guilty as those in the Kingdom (Saudi Arabia) and or other places around the world that refuse to acknowledge basic human rights. That said, while fitness is needed to attract people of the opposite sex, it cannot be the primary tool of attraction. As soon as a woman has to, essentially, sell her body to find a partner, she ends up in a relationship that promises to be one sided.

Elizabeth Eaves, a journalist and former stripper, documented in her memoir, Bare, that she learned at a very early age that she could control men's reactions by what she wore. Loose baggy clothes when she wanted to be unseen. Tighter clothes and more skin if she wanted or needed to be noticed. However, she could never trust men because she felt like they were simply responding to her sexuality. (That she worked as a stripper only heightened that revelation.) Being fit is not solely about sexuality. It plays a role, because biologically, the more muscle you have the more testosterone your body produces. (And yes, that's true in both men and women) But sexuality is, in my mind, a minor role, although fitness magazines use it FAR too often to sell their products.

Being fit is about being whole, about not separating our 'flesh' from our 'soul'. Who we are on the inside is partly reflected by what others see, and partly by what they hear. And when fitness is directed towards ourselves, towards who we are and who we want to be, it is healthy and attractive. When it is directed outwardly, it becomes a product, something we sell or use to acquire things, and it becomes unhealthy.

It is a difficult line to walk, but I refuse to back down from this idea that to celebrate fitness is to celebrate boorishness or sleaziness. We may not like the fact that our fitness level matters to people of the opposite sex, but it does, and whether that is evolutionary or cultural should make no difference, because that's not what a healthy idea of fitness represents anyway. Just remember that taking care of what we look like is still about us, about figuring out who we are and what we want, and about honouring what God has blessed us with. How we do that is up to us, and while others will see the difference, I think you'll find that the biggest change will not be in how you look or in how others perceive you, but how you feel about yourself. Single or not, that's something we should all be working towards.

-Steve

AUTHOUR'S NOTE: I hadn't intended on writing a follow up to the past article, but felt the response somewhat demanded some clarification. I am working on the next 'original' article, The One Myth that will Destroy Your Relationship. Hopefully I'll have it up in a couple of days. Thanks everyone.

The Key to Finding Mr./Mrs. Right… is Selfishness

They were nuzzling each other in the checkout line directly in front of me, to the point where I turned slightly so as not to impugn on their moment. We've all witnessed the embarrassing teenage couples clinging to one another in outrageous public displays of affection, but this couple wasn't young at all. They looked to be in their mid-forties. He was short and balding, the woman even shorter with thick black hair and a tired, happy face. Their son, who looked to be about five, was quietly dragging a foam sword near the cereal aisle, and he responded quickly when his dad called him over and gave him a hug. I couldn't help but smile. This is what we all wanted, I thought. More specifically, I thought about my female friends and their frustrations in finding "Mr. Right", someone who they could count on as a partner and teammate. For all the advances we'd made towards equality, the most chauvinistic portion of our population was young men between the ages of 16-22. What that said about our culture, I could only speculate, but what it meant for young women was less abstract. It meant sifting through a populace that was not only increasingly disinterested in equality, but one in which violence continued to play a major role. Conditions in the church were no better. In some ways, the situation was worse, as young men purporting to be Christians did not seem to perceive a contradiction from their faith and their tendency to raise their hand against their wives. So many of my friends and acquaintances had given up, either marrying someone who was 'okay' or ending up with a man they were not proud to be with. It was better than being alone. Or was it? And why was it so hard for women to find "Mr. Right"? There weren't that many jerks, were there? Or were my friends simply being too picky. Whatever the answer, it was something worth looking into, if only so that I'd have something to say to my friends when they asked me yet again where all the good men had gone.

***

I have a confession to make. I'm happily married. And oh yeah, I've been married before. We were both miserable. Fortunately, my ex-wife met someone great after we broke up and became happily married. So we're both happily married now, just not to each other. I mention that because undoubtedly someone will read this and dismiss it because my credentials are 'impure.' Of course, my credentials are already impure because I'm male, and my advice is (largely)directed towards women. A couple of weeks ago however, I received an email from a reader/friend, who was frustrated by what she'd witnessed in the dating world and in her friends' relationships. "What's wrong with all these men? These so-called Christians are mean, ego-driven and often violent. What do I do?" Her letter touched a chord in me, because it was something I'd seen often the past decade in my work with youth and families. Especially young women in their twenties who were looking to the future. I'd seen the things she mentioned in her letter in my Seminary, supposedly the training ground for young pastors, in everything from the books we were forced to read to the attitude of many of the male students. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that whatever answers I did have were not going to be well received, and in many cases, would upset a lot of people. Would in fact make some people very angry. But I've never been good at hedging, even when it's pushed me into rocky waters.

HARD TRUTHS AHEAD. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.

***

Tyndale College University & Seminary is a red bricked building set amidst a series of quiet, rolling streets just north of Toronto. Million dollar homes are the norm in this largely Asian suburb, each house more precisely manicured than the next. About the size of an elementary school, it has evolved into the largest evangelical seminary in Canada, with over two hundred full time students and eight hundred part timers. When I moved to Toronto for graduate studies in the fall of 2007 I wasn't sure what to expect. Having long since given up my patriarchal zealot days of my early twenties – when I would talk about spiritual leadership and men (only)in the same breath – and having witnessed the tragedy of patriarchal tendencies, I was pleasantly surprised by my professors. Coming from a wide variety of Christian traditions, they were almost universally progressive and thoughtful. By the time I'd picked up the textbooks for my course on Leadership, I'd long since given up the fear that I would be subjected to content that promoted a 1950's domesticity and inequality towards women. That ended however, upon my reading of the text, Being Leaders by Aubrey Malphurs. In one of his 'helpful' appendices, he documented two leadership checklists. One for men. One for women. I still remember the way my stomach clutched at my throat upon reading about a woman's 'love for her children' and her 'support for her husband' (among others) as qualities necessary for leadership. There were no such checks for the men of course. For the men, the book listed things such as the necessity of being the husband of 'but one wife' and 'intellectually capable'. Even more disturbing than the book was the reaction by most of the male students, the exception being my best friend and one other, who didn't see anything wrong with the textbook and rolled their eyes when I continued to hammer my professor about it. "It's just a book, Steve. It's not a big deal." The women in the class were split nearly down the middle. When I expressed my outrage at the sexist ideas expressed in Malphurs' work, not a few of them shrugged. They'd seen it a million times. It wasn't THAT big a deal. That was, without a doubt, the saddest part of it all. The women who either refused to see the sexism or had seen it so many times before had given up hope of change.

Hard Truth: So long as we believe that we do not deserve equality in our relationships, we will never find it.

Hard Truth 2: Young pastors and young Christian men continue to be taught that misogyny is an acceptable part of the Christian faith. Unless women recognize that they have to apply their own 'filter' for sifting out men who will look down on them, they will continue to end up in relationships with preening, self-righteous jerks who treat them badly.

Sound harsh? Probably to some men reading this, men who honestly believe that they consider women as equals. Meanwhile, these are the same men who would never accept a female pastor or talk about spiritual leadership in the context of women. (Women should be silent!) They follow self styled leaders like John Piper who counsel women to stay in abusive relationships. Make no mistake, while there are some churches working hard to see equality and teamwork between the sexes, most churches teach male superiority, though they will clothe it with words like "function, not value", or that they are just "following the Bible."(The next time someone says that to you, ask them what they think of slavery. If slavery is not acceptable, although Paul specifically orders slaves to submit, then why are women supposed to be silent?)

Therefore, you need to develop a check list of your own for prospective suitors to answer. Frame your questions around things such as spiritual leadership and gender roles. If he/she shows an inclination towards a set roles for either gender, and believes spiritual leadership is for men, get up and run away. Do not look back. Forget how good looking he is. In five years you will be miserable, if not sooner. Don't ignore the warning signs ('shouldn't women take care of the kids, they're like, made to handle them.") Trust me, you won't regret it.

***

If my wife was twenty pounds heavier I never would have married her.

Sounds gross, doesn't it? Alas, it's true. And she's a size two, sometimes a zero.

What's also true is that if I hadn't lifted enough weights over the years to develop my body so that I can push three hundred pounds above my head, she wouldn't have been interested anyway. We laugh about it, but her interest was peaked as much by my arms as by my smile. (All I can say is thank you, Lord, for getting me to the weight room when I was seventeen.) Yes, her intelligence, kindness, faith and strong sense of self were just as important. But they weren't more important. They still aren't. The same is true for her. In all the church blather about the importance of a woman being 'godly' (whatever that means), and our rejection of the commercialization of sex and female bodies, we bury an important truth: that how we look matters. And not a little. It matters a lot. Being fit not only increases our likeliness to attract others, it speaks to something else, especially in an obese culture like this one. I watch how my wife treats herself, how she cares for herself, how hard she works to stay fit by eating healthy and working out hard, whatever her schedule. I've known a number of women through the years who are looking for a partner, and while they remain smart and kind, they have physically let themselves go. Unfortunately, they've been taught a set of lies, usually by obese men behind a pulpit who hammer away at the importance of 'spiritual' qualities and 'selflessness' without ever telling women that they need to be a little selfish. That they need to focus on taking care of how they look so they can stay independent and strong.

Now when a man says that a woman needs to stay in shape, it comes across, at the very least, as presumptuous, and almost always condescending. Unfortunately, the truth is that a woman who allows herself to become overweight gives up something far worse than simply her conditioning or her ability to choose better looking guys.

We don't think of fitness or being in shape in relation to our spirituality, mainly because we've spent the past two thousand years dividing our body from our mind and our soul. (These are Greek ideas.) But everything we do reflects what we believe, including how we take care of ourselves.

Hard Truth 3: If we're not willing to work hard (and it is VERY hard work) at staying fit, how can we complain when people do not find us attractive?

Hard Truth 4: The irony is that while being fit increases your chance of finding a significant other, you can't make fitness something you do for someone else. It has to be something you do for yourself.

A great part of the appeal in people who are fit are all the traits we unconsciously assign to them. Discipline. Self-control. Strength. Independence. Now these traits may not all be present, and not in every area of a person's life, but there is tangible proof that in least one area, that person is strong and consistent.

Start today by taking control of your life. Insist on creating time in your life for yourself to workout. Learn about eating healthy. Remember, you're not doing this to attract a partner (that's a side benefit), you're doing it for yourself. As a trainer, I've watched women come back into their own as they have taken ownership of their bodies, and consequently, their lives. You do not belong to someone else, and while you may one day share your life with someone, no one owns you. Treat yourself as you deserve, and watch the difference it makes in your life.

***

Waiting on God is difficult, especially when it comes to relationships. Through the years I've met a number of people who insist that God will provide them with a partner, that so long as they keep their faith, their long dreamed romantic relationship, fed through the commercialized Hollywood apparatus, will suddenly appear. The idea saddens me, especially as it relates to my fellow Christians, in so much as it's inherently pagan.

Hard truth 5: The idea that we offer up a sacrifice (our time, prayer, very specific prayer, singing) so that God will mysteriously bring a stranger to our small town, to our closed life, is a great load of bunk and has nothing to do with faith, and everything to do with people manipulating us so they can use us for their own ends.

I hear this a lot in church circles. I have friends who can tell me exactly what they want their wife to look like, or what their husband's accent will be. They have been taught (wrongly) that God answers specific prayer. That God is nothing more than a plaza for us to peruse. Another shopping mall for us to line up and get things. And they'll look you in the eye and tell you that faith is enough. That God will bring so and so just like Pastor Bobby Joe said. Frankly, the whole thing is insulting.

Hard Truth 6: How in the world can we expect to meet someone when we live in the same house, the same small town, with the same people? It's utterly baffling. We expect God to bring someone to us because we are too lazy or too scared or too comfortable to change our geography or go to a different church.

The problem is more perilous if there are children involved, obviously. In which case we have to be as proactive as we can to initiate contact with possibilities. The internet is a good example. I'm not a huge fan of internet dating, but it's better than doing nothing.

I believe that meeting my wife was God ordained. I honestly do. But if I hadn't left Ottawa to take on a new challenge with new people, it never would have happened. I'm not ashamed to admit that originally I'd hoped to meet somebody at Tyndale. Why not? We need to change this mentality that God wants us to be submissive waifs, refusing to move or change unless we hear the voice of Thunder calling from heaven.

Nonsense.

Hard Truth 7: If you want to meet someone new, you have to meet new people. And that means adjusting your life so that will happen.

More than anything, we need to be more selfish. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but we need to do a better job looking out for ourselves if we hope to find someone else. We need to ask prospective suitors difficult questions, ensure that they believe in equality, and then walk away when we realize that they do NOT believe in equality. We need to guard our time selfishly, and stop saying yes to people who will rob us of our chance to be fit and healthy. People will always be grabbing for our time. Don't let them. And finally, we need to stop waiting around for God to do something and MOVE. Be active. Watch God move, but you go first! Our lives are more than relationships, so while it is wonderful to be happily married, your life is so much more than that. Waiting on God does not mean waiting as we would do in a doctor's office. Push forward, follow your passions, and don't get stuck when people try to hold you back. (Because believe me, families love to do this. And Christian men love to do this to women.)Live for God by remembering he created you and is happy with you and has plans for you OUTSIDE OF ANY RELATIONSHIP. Pursue those, and then watch as God brings people alongside you. One of them may even be suitable as a life teammate. Just remember, you have a few questions for them first.

-Steve

Next Topic: Up to You

Novel Word Count: 128,105

Day 45 of 42

In sorting through this blog (I still find it hard to believe that it's been five years!) I found a few comments from readers, one in particular, and decided to contact her (she'd left her email on her comment)to see how she was doing. She responded quickly, and when she mentioned what was happening in her life, I asked her if there was anything she wanted me to write about. I'd never done that before, but it seemed like the right thing to do. She gave me my next blog topic, which will explore waiting for Mr. Right/ waiting on God/ and how to avoid men who claim to be Christians but who abuse and demeen women. No, it isn't a cheerful topic, but I've heard this mentioned by a number of people who are genuinely disappointed and confused with the whole dating thing.

I should have something up in the next couple of days, after which, I think this is something I will do more often. Is there something you're particularly interested in? Is there something in the church or culture that bothers you? Something you just aren't sure about? Drop me an email and I'll write about it. (If I feel I have something to say) I won't include your name unless you want me to, and as always, comments will be welcome.

***

In regards to the novel, I'm not going back to the drawing board exactly, but I've realized that the book is going to be significantly longer than I anticipated, probably around 200k. (200, 000 words) I need to dig deeper and develop my world in much greater proportions. The story has stalled in large part, I think, because I need to do more in-depth research. I still like the story, and think it has great potential. As of now however, it looks like the first draft won't be completed until the fall. Thank you all for your encouragement and patience!

Hope your week has started well. For those who are interested, I do have a new post on my fitness site.

-Steve

Sex, Dating, and Ignorance

28 days: Day 7

NOVEL WORD COUNT: 112, 730

Have you ever wondered why so many fantasy characters know very little about sex? I'm talking about Epic fantasists now, like Tolkien and Jordan and Goodkind. (George R Martin writes high fantasy, a different genre that is far more 'realism' oriented) I mean, the main characters are either idiots when it comes to the opposite sex, or not that interested. (Tolkien) In our culture, it seems gratuitous perhaps to have teenage characters who bumble around with these crazy notions of romance like those mythologized in the 1950's, when everything was supposedly innocent. The 'innocence' of the 1950's is a myth, of course, but Epic fantasy writers are not interested in creating realism, but rather showcasing the time in our lives when we are ignorant of sex, and when our notions of it are silly, idealistic and occasionally, romantic. The time right around puberty when we experience all of the things that characterize early adolescence.

Epic fantasies, at least most of them, are working within the parameters of medieval times when the awkward age would have come much later for men and women. (The age of puberty has dropped greatly the past 100 years, due mostly to the food we eat and the resulting shift in our hormones.) In Forerunner, Josh is eighteen and awkward around girls. (Especially one) Although he's past puberty, he was raised in a small village and did not have much contact with girls. As a result, he's something of an idiot – and a romantic – when it comes to women. I'll be honest, this awkwardness is not difficult for me to write. I remember it very well. And when Josh tells me he's frustrated over not being "cool", I understand.

When I was in Grade Six, I liked this girl, Kathy, for four years. I could barely speak when I was around her. (And she's now a friend on Facebook. Go figure.) In fact, I had trouble speaking around girls, period. Getting braces in Grade 8, long before it was cool, did not help. That said, I still regarded women romantically. I was past puberty, but I didn't view them through the lens of sex. When the pretty girls were around I became nervous and said silly things, things I always wanted to take back when I went home. Safe in my room, I would replay the conversations in my head and then say the cool thing, imagine them nodding at me in appreciation for my wit and overall coolness.

Today, many cultural critics decry our lost 'innocence', they note that children are too mature and too sexed. Some of that is true. I don't like seeing seven year old girls doing a sexy dance or wearing 'slut' clothes. (I also don't like 'modest wear' for women either, but I digress) But that time of nervousness and ignorance still exists however, it just does so at a different age and in a different way. Puberty is still puberty. Observe a bunch of eleven or twelve year olds at a school dance, and you will find the same butterflies and nervousness and silly comments that we delivered during our own spring dances.

Towards that end, the idea of fantasy is not to recall what the current society has lost, (because no society has ever been guilt free) but to create a world that reflects both our ideals and our humanity. A good fantasy reminds us that the first time we went through the awkward phase we were aiming towards something bigger than ourselves. And a good fantasy reminds us that we can always go back. That we can always start over. Speculative fiction is as much about recreating our childhood as it is reliving it, in the hopes that when we fulfill the quest, when we finish the journey, we will remember the awkward dreams of our childhood. That we'll remember and come out on the other side just a little bit changed, formed the way we always imagined we would be when we were young. And innocent.

-Steve

How to Interest the Opposite Sex

Lessons From A Dork: Volume II


There are aspects to dating, and I mean trying to find special someone, that are just nonsensical. For most of us who are single, that's pretty obvious. For people who are married or in 'relationships', well, sometimes I have to remind them how tough it can be. How fruitless. How mind-numbingly, sigh inducing, and utterly ridiculous it can be. And that's just the first date.
It gets even tougher when you don't understand the opposite sex. Or yourself. Or what message you're supposed to convey. Or why the opposite sex responds to things they're not supposed to respond to. Or why they always want to be your friend. Or why they always want more than friendship.

This is true whether you're a Christian or not, religious or not; it's all the same, because these principles are universal. I'm not saying that makes it easier. If anything, it just makes it more difficult. Christians have certainly tried hard enough. Have you ever tried to read one of those ridiculous Christian 'dating' books? Yeah. Those are a big help. Especially since they're inevitably written by an old married guy who hasn't been on a date in twenty years. Ahhh. So you want me to 'court' the woman, whatever that means, and then make sure I ask permission before I bring my father's carriage over for a Sunday afternoon ride in the park. Helpful. What do I do when they won't get off their cell phone? Put the horses into a light canter?

I have to be honest, I don't worry about dating a whole lot these days. If a woman thinks I'm mean, or an idiot, or goofy, or whatever, I can smile and walk away. Don't get me wrong, I didn't get to this point because I suddenly understand the whole Mars/Venus thing. (Except for a basic premise that women and men are equal. That seems to be a big deal. Too many guys still attach their egos to their rims or their stereo or their finely tailored suits. It is called compensating, big guy, and its pretty obvious to the rest of us.) No. It happened when the information became so confusing at some point I just stopped caring. Little did I know that I was on the right track to becoming more interesting. Little did I know that I was starting to exhibit the behaviours and habits women were looking for. (Apparently I was showing confidence by not caring what they thought, although I may have wanted to care and wanted them to know that, but by not caring, it showed that I cared about the things that mattered most, which is what they cared about.)

Yup... it's confusing. Some authours try to divide their 'theories' specifically for men OR women, but the principles are the same. A friend tried to explain it to me a few years ago, but back then, I didn't really understand what he was saying.


Three years ago...

She was short, with curled brown hair that nestled around her shoulders and just past her graceful neck. She walked with an easy grace, and as she passed by she noticed me at the table and smiled. I tried to hide my surprise as I smiled and quickly looked away.

"I saw that." Jeff said.

We were having a coffee at my favourite cafe, and I was wrangling the confidence to ask him how I could be more successful with the opposite sex.

"What?"

"You looked away. Why did you look away. Do you feel unworthy or something?"

"No. I mean- she just kind of surprised- it's not about being worthy- I just-"

He laughed.

"Well, maybe you can help me, dude."

I'd already thought about this. I figured someone who’d been dating four girls when he’d met his wife (to whom he remains happily married) could help my romantic skills. At this point I was being realistic. My track record spoke for itself.

He snorted and laughed when I asked him his secret.

“Are you serious? You want advice for dating women?” he said, taking a quick peek around, as if I'd asked him a national secret. I knew what he was thinking. What dork would openly admit he needs help!?

“Yeah. Like you’ve dated so many, and now that I’m back in the game, I want to get a handle on what’s changed.”

Jeff gave me a skeptical look, as if to say I’d never played the game, not at the competitive level anyway.

“Well, the first thing you need to do is not talk so much.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t talk so damn much. Women hate it when you barrage them with information. It makes you look desperate. Be cool.”

“What makes you think I talk too much.”

He raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his coffee.

“Remember Kim?”

I nodded. Crap, I hadn’t remembered telling him about her.

“Okay, talk less. Got it. What else?”

Jeff scratched his head. I could tell that he thought this exercise was pointless but he kept going.

“Well, the main thing is that you have to not care. You have to not care if she likes you or doesn’t like you. It can’t bother you if she doesn’t call you back or if she ignores you at some point when you first meet.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense at all. If she doesn’t know that I want to know her, how will she know that I’m interested?”


“You don’t want her to know that you’re interested in her. You want her to be interested in you.” Jeff said, barely able to contain his frustration.

"But two minutes ago you told me I shouldn't have looked away, that I should have maintained eye contact."


f course! When you looked down you basically told her you were unworthy of her, that she was not at your level, that you would do anything to get her approval."

Now that didn’t make any sense at all. I sipped my coffee, pretending to think about what he’d said, but he might as well have been speaking Latin. What the heck is he talking about? I did all that. All I did was to sip my coffee?

The good friend that he is, Jeff sighed, sensing my lack of understanding, and tried again.


“Women want mystery. They want to know that you’re not easily available. They want to feel special, and so when you do give them attention, it means something. No woman is interested in a man who is obviously interested in her.”


"So... what do I do?”

“Ignore her. Let her make the first move.”

"Except when I first see them."


"Right, you need to establish that you believe you're worthy of them."

I stared at him blankly.

I’m going to be single for the rest of my life.

Jeff stood, his frame full of sighs and smirks and gentle humour.


"Burnsy, you’ll never play the game. Might as well stay out.”

“Wait! Don’t give up on me, pal. I hear what you’re saying. Let me see if I got this right. I need to talk less, hardly say anything, and when I see a woman that I’m interested in, I have to not care if she’s interested or not. I stare at her first, to establish my worthiness. But later, well, that’s when I ignore her, to give her a sense of mystery about the whole thing, and if she doesn’t make the first move, I shouldn’t worry about it.”


Jeff laughed so loud and so long that tears began to roll down his face.


"Oh, Burns…” Was all he could say before he broke into reams of laughter again. I sighed.

“I’m going to be single for the rest of my life, aren’t I?”

He patted my shoulder in reassurance.

“Believe it or not, Burnsy, there are women out there who don’t play the game. That’s who you need to find.”

Right. Piece of cake.


I remembered our conversation a number of months later after an unsuccessful foray into the female domain. What Jeff had said was pretty similar to the stuff John told me on a regular basis, but for whatever reason, I had trouble putting the whole thing into practice with the women I’d met. I can’t tell you how frustrating it all was.

I remember walking my friend Joanne to her car one day outside the school parking lot, when the subject of dating came up. She’d been single for nearly a year, and I was wondering if she’d met anybody interesting in the last month.

“I like being single, Steve. Right now, I just don’t want the responsibility of calling someone three times a day and knowing where each other is at all times and checking to make sure its okay if I do something with them.”

"Hey, Joanne, what do you think about this worthiness stuff?"

I told her what Jeff had said.

She laughed and then nodded.

"That's about right. A woman needs to know that a man will call her on her crap. If he's always looking for approval, it won't be good." She paused. "Would you want a woman who was always trying to please you?"

"Nope. I guess not."

As I watched her drive away, I wondered how my past relationships had affected me. Was I doing that? Looking for approval?

Today...

It amazes me how many unhappy couples I see. They fight on the bus, in the supermarket, in the coffee shop. Someone needs to tell them that they don't have to be together. Aren't relationships a choice? When did we decide that they were so important that you couldn't have a whole life without a romantic relationship? I think that a part of the problem is definitely related to our search for approval. That without someone telling us we are worthy, or implying our worthiness by their presence next to us. (Look, someone loves me. I must be valuable.) And we hold on to those relationships even when they are destructive.


Yeah, relationships can be great, but there are far too many people who are miserable in their relationships. Luckily, I don't need to produce a study to back this up. Just walk around and listen to people. (As a side note to you couples, please don't argue in public. We don't want to hear and see your crap. It isn't cool. If I go to a bookstore to relax, I don't want to hear you fighting over the new wallpaper or whether the crib should be corral or peach, or whether your sister-in-law was flirting with you. And that goes for people (single or not) on your cell phone. News flash. WE CAN HEAR YOU! Go outside or something.)

The voices in society tell us a lot of things. They tell we need this, that we must have that. They tell us we are worthy only if we are or do something a certain way. How cool that God loves us with all of our crap. Relationships are only worth it if they are worth it. If they aren't, then what are we doing?!

If I had figured that out when I was seventeen with my first girlfriend, it would have saved me a world of heartache, but that's a story for another day.

-Steve

How To Repel Women: Lessons From a Dork

The Dating Life: Volume 1 “Back in the Game”

Many Moons Ago…

I was nervous. It had been seven years since I’d been on a date, and things seemed much different now. I’d come out of a long-term relationship a while ago, and it was time to get back in the game. The café was about half-full. A youngish guy in his early twenties was idly stroking the hand of a woman at the table next to me. He had a bored, half-lidded look on his face. He jerked his head slightly in my direction, and we exchanged knowing smirks. Yeah. I was back in the game. Cooler than cool. It was fitting that my first date would be here, my regular Starbucks. I’d read recently that home court advantage was important. I was pretty sure it had been an article on dating. Or was it that article on the Raptors chances in the playoffs? Hmmm. It didn’t matter. I forced myself to smile and slowly fixed my coffee.

“I’m the coolest guy in the world.” I muttered to myself. “I. Am. The Man!”

“Steve?”

I turned and nearly spilled my drink.

“Uhhhh. Hi, Kim. Can I get you a coffee?” I said.

She looked down at the coffee in her hand.

“No. I’m okay.”

“Uh, right.”

Kim was tall, with short blonde hair and an easy smile. I had met her a week ago, and that night the conversation had seemed easy. But as we sat down at an empty table, I found myself drawing a blank. What should I ask her? I closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves. I hadn’t called any of my female friends for advice because I was sure that it would just confuse me and then I would say something really stupid. Kim didn’t know that she was my first date in eight years, and I wasn’t going to give THAT tidbit away. I had to be sure about our future first. Be patient. I took another deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Much better.

“So you work at a high school?” She said, raising her cup to her lips.

Why did she ask me about my job? Didn’t I already tell her where I work?

“Yes. I work with developmentally disabled students.”

“But you’re not a teacher.”

I shook my head.

“Still, that must take some patience.”

“Yeah.”

I squinted to see her response. Her lips moved slightly downward. Was that a frown? I sighed and looked past my date’s shoulder to the adjacent bookstore and the few people browsing through their titles. I’d had hair the last time I’d been on a date. A lot of guys shaved their heads though now, didn't they? Yeah. Shaved heads were definitely cool.

“How long have you been doing it?”

Again! What is this, a date or an interview? Maybe I should have filed an application first...

“Four years.”

“Nice.”

I snorted under my breath and buried my face in my coffee.

Nice? All she can say is 'nice'? What does that even mean? That it's acceptable but not great or that it's really swell in a different way than what I think it means, as in, its a good enough job for me to be datable?

"Steve? Are you okay?"

"yeah. Super cool. Just thinking. You know. Cool stuff. ummm... what about you?” I asked, as casually as I could. “Do you like your work?”

She put her coffee down and with an excited look on her face told me about her job with the government.

“And next year they’re sending me to Japan for five months. How great is that?”

“Sounds good.”

“Good? Are you kidding? I love this. Every Friday we all gather after work we all dress up, go out for martinis… talk about the week… I love it!”

“Hmmm. It sounds like you’re happy.” I said, in a slightly disapproving tone. “But is this what you really want to do?”

I found it difficult to believe that someone could be that happy working for the government. She looked at me as if I hadn’t been listening.

“This is my dream! It’s great!”

I nodded gravely, and gave her a faintly condescending smile. If only she had my wisdom, I thought, reassured by the noticeable absence in her life. Pah! The government? Enjoying her job?! As if THAT was enough. I obviously had something to offer her, something very real and very important.

Depth.

Still, maybe she could be my next wife. I studied the small dimple in her left cheek, the way her left eyelid didn’t seem to open all the way, giving her face a smoldering, sensual tilt. And I liked her laugh. Soft and firm at the same time. It was time to tell her.

“Did I tell you that you’re my first date in seven years?”

Her face twitched for a second.

“No.” She said finally. “That’s… interesting.”

I barely heard her response as I launched into a description of my last relationship. I asked her a few personal questions along the way, but only to enough for her to acknowledge what I’d said before skimming along again into another vignette from my life. When I finally looked at my watch, I realized it was eleven o’clock. We’d talked for three hours.

I felt a strange rumbling in my stomach as I walked her outside to the edge of the snow-covered parking lot, as if I’d missed something or done something horribly wrong. I shook my head at the annoying thought.

“Hey, listen. I’ll call you tomorrow." I said. "We can make plans for the weekend.”

Her mouth twisted downwards. She must be cold, I thought. I gave her a hug, but she was stiff in my arms. Good heavens, she must be really cold.

“Well, I know you’re cold, so I’ll let you go. See you tomorrow!”

She made a funny motion with her hands and looked like she was going to say something before nodding quickly and running to her car. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Women were just no good in the cold. I waved one last time before heading back into the café to get my things.

One of the baristas approached me when I came inside. She had a strange smile on her face.

“How was the date?” She asked.

“Why?”

“Sounded like she was grilling you. Every time I walked by, you were talking and she had this dazed, almost dreamy look on her face. Like she was sad or something?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

I suddenly realized that my throat hurt. All the way out to my car I thought about my date, and our conversation. It was weird, but I still couldn’t remember a thing she’d said. Of course, I couldn’t remember what I’d said, either. Still, it’d been so long since I’d been on a date, I wasn’t sure if this was normal or not.

No worries, I thought. I. Am. The Man!

Kim didn’t return my calls the next day, or the day after that. For the next two weeks, I tried to call, but she never did get back to me. It was very odd. It didn’t occur to me that I’d done something wrong until I told one of my friends about it.

I think he’s still laughing…

Thinking back, it probably ranks as the worst date of my life. However, I’ve been doing dumb things with the opposite sex for a long time.

What about you? Can anyone relate to my ridiculous (and true) story? What’s your most humiliating date story? Post it or email it to me and I will post our tales of relational ineptitude. (I'll post it anonymously if you like) Learning to laugh at our own silliness brings people together and helps us move forward, especially for us dorks. We’d love to hear your story…

-Steve