The Vine: July 21, 2010
Dear Sars,
Almost 4 years ago now, I met “Steve” through a work project that our two companies were collaborating on. The project required us to work very closely together (emailing and talking on the phone several times a day), so even though we were located in different countries (and only saw each other a few times a year), we quickly got to know each other well and became friends.
Very early on, he told me that he had a girlfriend, and that their relationship was very tumultuous. This initially came up because he didn’t want me to ever call him on his cell phone after hours regarding our work project, no matter what the emergency, for fear that she would “catch” him talking to “another woman” and “punish” him. These “punishments” consisted of things like forcing him to sleep on the floor, or locking him out of the house, etc. He described her as having “many” psychological problems, jealousy issues, control issues, etc.
The whole situation sounded really unhealthy. We had many conversations about this relationship, virtually all the result of him calling me after something had happened with her. This continued long after we no longer worked together. In retrospect, I never should have let this dynamic develop between the two of us. But when I was in my 20s, I was involved in an abusive relationship myself for a time, so I understood what that does to one’s judgment and self-esteem.
I also remembered how isolating that experience was (he said he didn’t have any of his own friends anymore) so I tried instead to be as supportive as I could be, under the circumstances. I don’t know that anything I said or did made any difference at all, though — they would fight, get back together, things would improve for a short time, then he would be calling me again.
And so it went until one day last year, when he called me to let me know that he and his girlfriend were engaged! He said that it was not his idea, that she wanted to have children and so she was forcing this on him. I implored him to think through what marriage and children with this woman would be like — is this what he wanted for the rest of his life, is this what he wanted for his future children? He said no, but he felt he had no choice, and didn’t want to talk about it with me anymore.
So we didn’t talk about it again until several months later, when he called me to tell me that he wanted to come clean about something. That “something” was that every bad thing he ever said about his girlfriend was A LIE: he made it all up, right from day one, and his girlfriend is actually great, and they actually have a great relationship, and getting married and starting a family with her is going to be great too.
More than three years of lies — how to begin to process this? The only real answer Steve gave me to my questions about why, why, WHY he would do this was that he wanted to keep talking to me, and he felt that this was a hook that would keep my attention. That was about all he could give me. Frankly, he wasn’t overly apologetic about it either, and in response to a number of my questions about specific incidents, I got “I don’t remember saying that” or “I think you misunderstood” or “I was only joking that time.” It’s been a few months now, and I don’t really see any point in continuing to try to talk to him about it — I don’t imagine I will ever get a satisfactory explanation from him. My goal now is to try to move on, but I’m finding it easier said than done.
For one thing, this whole situation seems incredible to me, both in the sense that I can’t believe anyone would do something like this (let alone that he would do this to me), but also quite literally in the sense that I can’t quite believe that ALL of it was lies: I mean, I heard his voice on the phone when he was describing the latest drama, I saw his face when he was talking about her in person with me…his unhappiness, at least, was real. Or so I think. There are the things I know are true, the things he has now told me are lies, and then, in the vast expanse between, hundreds and hundreds of things that I just can’t categorize (although my brain keeps trying to). It’s exhausting.
Secondly, during the years I’ve known Steve, I’ve had real stuff — good and bad — going on in my own life: breaking up with a long-term boyfriend, quitting my job and taking another one 1000 miles away in a city where I didn’t know anyone, finishing my master’s degree, buying my first house, meeting my (now) husband, getting engaged, getting married, getting pregnant, having a miscarriage, getting pregnant again, etc. Steve wasn’t “there” (literally or figuratively) for any of it — he was always too preoccupied with his own situation to be any kind of friend to me.
When I think now about all the time and energy I spent listening to him on the phone, talking him through the crisis du jour, worrying and wondering if he was OK…I feel absolutely enraged. I mean, he was calling me about his (fake) problems during my (real) grief following my miscarriage. I can’t even articulate how incensed it makes me feel to know that he knew what I was going through, but still considered his need for attention (or whatever it was he was getting out of this) to be more important. It’s humiliating, to have genuinely tried to be a friend to someone who clearly had no regard for me at all.
I apologize for going on and on — and the point is, I don’t want to anymore. Sars, readers, what do I do with all this now? How can I move on from here?
It’s Probably A Good Thing We Live In Different Countries
Dear Good,
To realize that what you thought was a friendship, a kinship, a meeting of the minds was actually a performance or a transaction of some kind — the kind you can’t really understand, because it wouldn’t occur to you to treat people that way — is difficult to process. It’s humiliating, as well. You feel like you got conned, and also like you were the last to figure it out.
Give yourself permission to get angry, angry enough to end the relationship permanently, and then do exactly that. Yes, it’s possible that Steve is lying now in order to enable or disguise abuse from his fiancée, and I think part of you is probably worried that you “don’t have the right” to rip a yard out of his ass for lying to you and wasting your time and never once helping you with your issues, juuuuuust in case it’s actually because he’s the victim here.
Maybe he is the victim, but he’s also a grown-up, and he may have his reasons for treating friendships like short cons, but reasons aren’t excuses; either he’s just a sociopath who enjoys toying with people, or he’s so emotionally stunted by years of dealing with the harpy he’s marrying that he has no idea how to conduct a relationship that isn’t based on a fucked-up power differential. Either way: that’ll do, pig. Tell him exactly what you just told me: whether he lied to you of his own volition all along, took advantage of your good nature to get attention, and never supported you with your own shit; or whether his fiancée really is abusive and has twisted him to the point where he no longer understands how to interact with other people, you’re out. If it’s the latter, you hope he gets the help he needs, but regardless, you don’t want to speak with him again.
The “why” isn’t irrelevant, but the “what” here is that the friendship is non-functional because it’s based on lies and pathology. End it and cut off contact. Eventually, the anger will fade.
Dear Sars,
I have a dilemma that just eats at me from time to time, and I’m really hoping you or the readers can offer some guidance, or reassurance, or what have you.
I’m a 25-year-old woman who is getting married in two months. The man I’m marrying is the love of my life. I suppose everyone feels this way about their future spouses, but I just adore him — he’s totally the sunshine of my life, and the intimate emotional bond we share is one of the most treasured aspects of my life. I love him so much. We met at the very beginning of our freshman year of college, when we were eighteen, and have been together ever since.
Here’s the thing: sexually, he is my first everything, short of my first kiss. He had some intimate relationships in high school, but as far as actual sex, I am his first as well. After seven years, our sex life is still fun and enjoyable; we occasionally fall into some boring spells, but are also good at recognizing it and brightening things up if it’s getting dull/routine.
Despite that, throughout the duration of our relationship, I have gone through some periods of wishing I could know what it would be like to be with other men. That desire will be gone for long stretches of time (like, years, sometimes), but when it rears up, it’s something that really gnaws at me.
I have never cheated on him, have never even come close. He has never cheated on me. Like I said, I absolutely love this man with my whole soul. The very idea of hurting him, betraying him, humiliating him, and everything else that cheating would bring, is horrifying to me. But I can’t ignore the fact that I do have regrets, and I wish that I had experienced a little more, gotten to know what being with other people is like, miss that electricity and sexiness and intense, hot connection that comes at the very beginning.
It’s purely a physical desire. This is not a situation where I’ve fallen out of love with him, or we’ve become “just friends” or “close roommates” or whatever. I’m totally in love him, I still think he’s incredibly attractive, and I love having sex with him. I just…sometimes really wish I could have sex with other people, too.
We have, here and there, talked about our monogamy. I feel like we talk honestly about it, and we have both acknowledged that monogamy is not always easy. We both know that the other is human, and that sexual desire and attraction to others is not something that can just be turned off. In the past, we mentioned the idea of taking a break so we could both sow our wild oats a bit, but we love each other, and the idea of being apart just for the purpose of having flings with other people made us too sad. I studied abroad for a semester in college and we agreed on a “don’t ask, don’t tell” free zone during that period, and when I came home, we both admitted that neither of us had done so much as kiss another person, because we spent the entire four months being horribly lonely for each other. The idea of an open relationship turns both of our stomachs.
For seven years, I’ve worked on reconciling myself with the fact that I sometimes have a strong desire to have sex with other people, but since I cannot fathom and do not ever, ever want to cheat on him, break up with him, or have an open relationship with him, sex with other people is never going to happen.
But now we’re getting married, and I’m feeling scared and anxious. I have great respect for the institution of marriage, and I love him so deeply, and I cannot wait to be his wife and the mother of his children someday. I just feel like the stakes are so high now, though. The finality of seriously, the gate is locking, I am NEVER, EVER going to experience anything else feels very intense.
I mean, overall, the seriousness and bigness of the commitment we’re making is scaring me a little. Forever is a long, long, long-ass time. What if I can’t do this marriage thing? What if I screw it up or fail at it completely? What if it goes wrong, or we do fall out of love, or something horrible happens, and we lose each other? What if I hurt him or let him down? Am I a loaded gun who will, eventually, someday, be overwhelmed by temptation because I have (and apparently can’t get rid of) these desires for other people? (I have given up reading Dan Savage because he seems to think that yes, definitely, inevitably, I will cheat someday and it terrifies me.)
So that’s my situation. I am deeply in love with my fiancé, but I sometimes really wish I were more experienced/could try having sex with other people, but I don’t ever, ever want to cheat on him, and the idea of non-monogamy breaks both of our hearts. So it’s just…stuck. Like I said, this doesn’t bother me all the time (and often doesn’t bother me for a LONG time), but when it does, it REALLY bothers me. I have never fully confessed all this to anyone, because I feel so ashamed about it, like something is wrong with me.
So I guess my question is this: is monogamy hard for everyone? Do other people feel scared and intimidated by the prospect of only being with one person physically for the rest of their lives? Do other long-term couples still fight off desires to experience some variety? I feel horribly guilty about having these feelings. Help?
Am I The Only One?
Dear One,
Hell no you aren’t the only one. People who have had several, or many, partners feel that way; people who have survived dozens of break-ups feel that way. George Clooney exists, so here we all are. It is completely normal to desire other people, and occasionally to feel a little trapped in the choices you’ve made, in any area of life; I would find it more worrisome if you sent me a chirpy “no more partners, no problem — huzzah for the unexamined life!” letter, because: the Cloon, come on.
And it doesn’t make you a bad person or mean you don’t love your fiancé. It just means that forever is daunting. To everyone. Give yourself a break.
And don’t talk to yourself about it with words like “forever,” if you can help it. Remind yourself that the gate is not in fact locking. It’s a marriage, not a pair of concrete galoshes, and if things don’t work out, the marriage can end and you will survive. If, God forbid, something happens to your fiancé, you will mourn, and then you will survive. If it’s something greyer than divorce or death — you just don’t communicate very well anymore; he’s talking too much for your taste about that woman in accounts payable — you can go to marriage counseling and you will work it out, or not, and you will survive.
I’ve weathered horrendous splits and easy ones; my “first” was before cell phones, and…so was my tenth; blah blah blah the fullness of time, but I would feel the same way in your situation. Committing to another person for life is scary. It’s also awesome, and totally doable, and because you don’t have as much perspective as you might on the fact that even the hugest mistakes of a relationship nature sort themselves out in time, you should take advantage of any pre-marital counseling available via your clergyperson (or just go see a therapist a few times) and get it all out. Ministers and counselors hear this allllll the time, and can help you manage the anxiety and refocus on the positives.
And those positives include the ability to talk with your beloved about this stuff, which is also a big deal and bodes well for your marriage. You’re not in denial about it, and it’s not abnormal in the first place, so if, sometimes, you need to take some “alone time” and “think about” Adam Baldwin, that’s just biology and it doesn’t make you a cheaty freak.
Don’t be ashamed. You’ve got this. Readers, back me up here.
Sars, I know you’ve freelanced in the past (still?) and I suspect you know exactly how to handle this with aplomb.
I’ve recently started freelancing and so far it’s going well. I’m getting clients, and it’s looking like I actually might be able to support myself this way. However, I am completely weird and awkward about bringing up rates with a new client.
Here’s an example: I had an initial phone conversation with a new client today. After talking to her for about half an hour about what she’s looking for and how we’d work together, and after making plans for a meeting next week, it seemed clear that we were both just assuming I was hired. But we hadn’t talked rates yet!
So I said, “Let me tell you my rates. I charge $100 an hour. Is that in the range of what you were envisioning?” She said yes, and that was that.
But I am sure I detected some discomfort in her voice (maybe just because everyone is uncomfortable talking about money, but who knows), and I felt completely awkward myself. Now I’m wondering — should I have not waited until we’d already talked for half an hour about what she’s looking for? Should I not have waited until we were so far in that we’d already set up our first meeting? Does asking if that was in her range somehow imply I’ll lower it if needed? How do you have that conversation?
Please save me before I spread further awkwardness in the world…
Money-hungry but afraid to show it
Dear Hungry,
I got around this by writing down a menu of services, which includes the corresponding rates for each service. It also mentions that I can customize the quote depending on the job, and gives a couple of examples.
I did that primarily so that I wouldn’t have to write it out every time; it’s just easier to tell a prospective client, “I’d love to discuss the job — let me send you my fact sheet, and then we can talk about your needs and budget within that framework.” That way, I don’t forget to mention anything, and the price list is right there.
With that said, sometimes you have to discuss a job for a little while to get a sense of what you’d charge. I don’t know what you do, so I can’t speak to that, but sometimes what a client wants is actually a less expensive option than he’d assumed, so I need to get a sense of that. My real-estate lawyer had to talk to me for an hour before she could 1) figure out which part of the job she’d be charging a flat rate for, and then 2) bid the rest. It sounds like you’re worried that you left the money part too long and that that came off shady, but you can’t really price the work until you know what it is.
But I’ve also developed a callus about talking about money, because I’ve run one business or another for over a decade now and I’ve had no choice, and the good news is, it does get easier. Your work costs money; either the prospective client wants to spend that money or she doesn’t; if she doesn’t, it’s nothing personal for either of you, good luck to her, next case.
I think you did fine; hearing the phrase “$100 an hour” does cause discomfort in some people that is…not social discomfort (heh), so I wouldn’t worry too much about that. In the future, try to find an end point for the pricing/consultation part of the conversation, and segue over to, “It sounds like you need X; for that, I charge Y.” Don’t ask if it’s in their budget; if it isn’t, they’ll tell you. Don’t worry about what they do or don’t assume re: negotiating; if they want to negotiate, they will say so, and if they don’t say so, you shouldn’t offer — or negotiate at all, if the rate isn’t negotiable. A simple “I’m sorry, the rate is standard/fixed” should do it.
Resisting the urge to apologize for charging for your work, or to fill the silence that greets the bid, is the hardest thing you have to learn when you work for yourself, but like I said, it gets easier. Just keep reminding yourself that prospective clients understand the nature of the transaction. It’s not impolite; it’s part of the deal.
Tags: Adam Baldwin boys (and girls) friendships workplace
Hungry,
If you have a website, even a small one, you can put your fee sheet up in pdf format next to your CV (and a retainer agreement, if you have one) and early in a call with a new client ask “By the way, have you been to my website at money-hungry.com? My CV, retainer agreement, and fee sheet are available there.” or something to that effect. I do that at the small office I work in and it cuts down on a lot of questions and covers your ass if you get into any unfortunate billing disputes. Dating the fee sheet (i.e. Fees as of July 21, 2010) at the header helps with that as well. Of course, we’re trying to collect money from lawyers, so your clients might be less skeevy.
Either way, they’re calling your business. They expect you to charge. They won’t get offended at the mention of money. If you’re too expensive, they’ll let you know immediately. Don’t sweat it.
Dear “One”: There is a reason my husband usually always have sex on Thursday nights during the summer — and its name is Jeffrey Donovan.
Now, I love my husband more than anything else on this earth, and I wouldn’t cheat on him even with the REAL Jeffrey Donovan. (I would, however, like JD to offer. Just once!) (Kidding.) But the charge I get from watching a hot dude in Armani jump over cars and hang out with Bruce Campbell ADDS to our marriage. It doesn’t take away.
So yeah. Enjoy your life with the person most perfect for you on the face of the earth. Best wishes! But also remember that while you’ve taken the physical act with other people off the table, there’s still the mental. Use those urges to make your sex life better.
One – I slept around in college. A LOT. Now I’m with the guy that (I hope) I’ll be with for the rest of one of our lives… and let me tell you, he’s the best sex I’ve ever had. Not because he’s just that amazing, but because we’ve been practicing for years! The first time with someone new was exciting, but personally, I rarely got off. Every woman is different, and guys aren’t great at guessing just where your hot spots are. Unless you’re comfortable strongly “coaching†a new guy through your first session, it won’t be all that mind blowing. I feel you on wanting to recapture that first time excitement though – I still feel that way, and you’d think I’d have slept with enough people to scratch that itch. I just tell myself that what I have now is infinitely better than anything out there… and I regularly take some “alone time” and “think about” Adam Baldwin, haha.
To “Only One”–does it make you feel any better to know that the best sex, hands down, I’ve had in my “several more times than once around the block” life was with the guy I knew loved the most? Sex with a hot stranger is better in theory than in practice, in my book. Enjoy what you’ve got. :)
@One, I think your reaction is totally normal. I have been married for over a decade now to the guy who is also my first everything beyond first base. I have never seriously contemplated sex with a different person, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never felt an attraction or had a fantasy. (see above, re: Cloony) That’s normal. That’s a consequence of living in the world. But it’s obvious that acting on that kind of feeling has tremendous consequences you do not want to deal with.
Plus: it’s not going to be that great. And if I’m wrong about this, I’m happy in my ignorance. Here’s the thing: if you’re doing it right, communicating and paying attention to each other, sex with anyone else is going to be a major letdown because that person doesn’t know you, your body, how much or little pressure to apply where, that the spot for you is there and not 2 cm to the left, that this sound means more and this sound means back off a little. In your head, your encounter with Mr. Depp or that guy from Thursdays at yoga may be great, but it will be more awesome as a …. solitary activity than as a life-altering fact.
One: There’s a new book out called Sex at Dawn which deals with the evolution of human sexuality, especially as concerns monogamy. (Dan Savage has been covering this book in depth lately; you can check out TheStranger.com for his columns and podcast on the subject) The gist is that we as human society developed monogamous sexual relationships way before we’ve evolved for them — we’re still, evolutionarily speaking, built for non-monogamy. Which isn’t an argument against monogamy. It’s an explanation why sometimes its really really hard even when you really really love your partner.
And, what Sars said. As usual.
Good: Steve is an eight-cylinder sociopath. I’m wondering if his girlfriend ever existed in the first place. My mind boggles at the thought of someone being able to treat another human that way. Wow.
One: Monogamy is hard, and those feelings about others are always going to flare up from time to time (but you don’t need a cream for these flare-ups, thank god). I find that acknowledging them to myself goes a long way towards lessening them.
Apropos of very little: I used to think Adam Baldwin was a total babe, and loved him in just about everything. And then I found out, via Twitter, that he’s a psychotic right-winger. As in: he’d make Col. Casey and Jayne look like ultra-liberal tree-hugging hippie freaks. Also, he gets very, very fighty with people on Twitter who disagree with him even slightly. I really kind of hate it when an actor’s on-screen likeability doesn’t translate to the real world. Sigh.
For “One,” just to add one more note to Sars’s excellent (as usual) advice: don’t forget that people used to do the lifelong-monogamy thing regularly, or at least more regularly than we do today–and they still do. It boggles my mind that my mother, who will be 70 next year, has had TWO sex partners in her life (er…that I know of…*cough*) and she was married to both of them (seriatim, obviously). I also have a friend my age (37) who married her very first boyfriend and is happy with carnal knowledge of only this one guy that she met at age 13. That is to say that it’s doable. Maybe today we put more pressure on ourselves than we should about breadth rather than depth of experience. I think it’s awesome that the two of you have become, like, experts about each other and continue to evolve your sexual relationship.
On a side note, during Monday’s Mad Men marathon, AMC ran a promo for the Mad Men S4 premiere and the cable premiere of Michael Clayton with the tagline “Would you rather spend the night with George Clooney or Jon Hamm?” I yelled out loud at the TV, “Gaaah! Don’t make me choose!”
One,
Your letter reminded me a lot of me – I met my husband first week of freshman year of college, and while I’d slept with one HS boyfriend, I certainly didn’t bring a lot of adult experience or perspective to the relationship that’s ended up lasting nearly 19 years and counting.
Yeah, I wonder what it might be like to have sex with someone else – but I think I’d do that if I’d had 50 partners before him, although it might be less wondering and more flat out fantasizing. I enjoy a bit of flirtation with someone new or cute, but but never goes further than that. I wonder sometimes what it would be like to go into a relationship as the person I am now and how different it might be, but at the end of the day, I can put it away because I like where I am.
The thing that actually catches me the hardest is actually completely different – I really wish that I could have had some point in my life where I got to live by myself, be wholly responsible for myself, and (for the love of god) never had to trip over someone else’s crap left in the middle of the floor (that I’d be tripping over my own crap always seems left out in that little fantasy.) And yet, if I’m going to keep this great life that I’ve built with my family going, that just stays a fantasy – I can dream about it but that’s all it ever gets to be. I won’t lie and say that it’s always easy to stow it and get on with the reality, but it is what you do when you love someone. I imagine that the day I can’t do that will be the day I know it’s time to leave, but I honestly don’t think I’ll ever get there.
Nothing to add to the great advice but,
“Either way: that’ll do, pig.â€
Man, do I wish I had that line a few months ago. It almost makes me wish I had someone I disliked enough to use it on now. Cracked my shit up.
Stealing this – blah blah blah the fullness of time
To One: One thing to consider could be talking with a relationship coach or sexuality educator. I am dear friends with one and I know that she teaches workshops and does private counseling sessions on issues like the ones you’re struggling with.
You don’t define “open relationship” in your letter, but I’m assuming you mean each of you individually seeking outside sexual encounters without the other present. Have you considered bringing new partners into the bedroom with both you AND your honey? Just a thought!
One: Best advice I ever received about attraction/desire for other people when you are in a committed relationship….
It doesn’t matter where you get your appetite as long as you come home hungry.
Hmm…I don’t think this affects Sars’ advice, but…was I the only one who thought Steve was lying .now. because his girlfriend “made” him say that, because she “discovered” he was revealing all this to someone else? I mean, after years and years of apparent bitchy, hyper-controlling behavior that has him afraid to talk on the phone to another woman IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY. It doesn’t seem hard to imagine someone who’d be so controlling, sadly (nor does it seem hard to imagine someone who’d be controlled to that extent, sadlier).
But, I mean, either he’s a purebred sociopath who’s not going to give a shit one way or the other if you’re pissed, or he’s marrying a sociopath and committing himself to his own misery. Either way…eh, I’d leave him be.
Adam Baldwin? I’ll be in my bunk.
Hey One,
Even if you were lucky enough to get it on with the Cloon, if he was the only person you ever slept with, you’d still wonder what sex with other people was like. Curiosity is a sure sign that you’re not dead. Monogamy is great, but it’s not the most natural of states. Dan Savage has been raving about the book Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality, whose basic premise is that it’s not something we’re biologically programmed to do.
How you act on that is entirely up to you. You can fantasize about other people when you’re together or by yourself, you can talk to your fiance about role-playing to make it feel like someone else, however you want to do it.
But don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ve only slept with two guys, and I wonder all the time.
Hang in there!
@jael: You ain’t the only one!
@Jennifer – Oh, I am WITH you on Adam Baldwin. I had to unfollow him after I found myself shouting at his tweets once too often.
Nathan Fillion on the other hand: now, he seems like a really decent, clever, funny fella besides being both cute and Canadian.
@Good: dear to goodness. If you need closure, print out one of his emails, burn it, and bury it at midnight at a crossroads. Then delete the rest, lose all his contact info, and breathe a huge sigh of relief that you DO live in different countries.
One: A thing that sounds awesome about your relationship is that you can really talk honestly with each other about these kinds of things. I think it might help put your mind at ease if you guys agreed that the monogamy conversation could be an open conversation, i.e. it’s something you could revisit in five or ten or twenty years. It’s possible that your feelings might change: the prospect of the occasional outside sexual partner might start feeling more like a fun adventure you guys could share and less like a sad betrayal as your relationship progresses, since you’re going to feel safer and more secure with each other. By talking about it now, and by agreeing to talk about it in the future, you’re laying a good foundation and helping turn something that could be fraught and scary into something that’s sexy and fun. Just lay ground rules and make it clear that you’ll always talk to each other before you do anything else and that you’ll always be honest with each other.
And don’t forget, sex with other people after marriage doesn’t have to mean either a) divorce or b) some crazy “Big Love”-style setup. There are always threeways, and there are always–ugh, I hate this term–swinger’s clubs (or whatever the hipper, younger version of that is.) There are all kinds of people out there who are married, love their partners, respect their marriage and still want to get in a little sexual adventure. You just need to find them when/if the time comes that you want to join their ranks.
One: what everyone else said.
And just to add my experience to the pile, my husband (married for five, together for ten) was only my second major boyfriend, and the second guy I slept with. I was his first. And those nagging questions do come up from time to time.
As much as we love each other, for a long time I worried off and on about him needing to get out there and see what another woman was like. But we would talk about it, and other pressing issues, during our periodic ‘conferences’ (late night pillow talks where we confess our fears, things that make us angry, etc). And then a few weeks ago, a young single girl he is friends with at work slept with an older married coworker. And he was disappointed in both of them, but really quite disgusted by the dude. Which weirdly made me feel pretty good, because I could tell how much he honored our marriage by the revolted look on his face.
Keep loving your man, keep talking about it, and keep saucing it up as others have suggested above. You’ll be ok!
@Jennifer It never fails to amuse me how quickly fannish glee at discovering Adam’s twitter turns into “OH DEAR GOD HE’S NOT JOKING.”
So many of my friends and I have similar tales that start with “I used to think he was hot but…”
Good: I don’t know if the guy is a sociopath, protecting his girlfriend/his relationship with same (there are not a few people out there who are terrified of loneliness and feel that even a bad – or downright terrible/abusive – relationship is better than no relationship at all – say nothing of the dynamics between abuser and abused that, as you mentioned, can do a number on self-esteem), or is actually the abusive partner and is going the route of discrediting his abused girlfriend by reversing their situation, but in any case: wow, I am sorry you had that experience.
Anything I would say here, Sars pretty much already has, but I wanted to add my voice to the chorus of people going, “wait… wha? …that is some prime superdickery, right there, that is,” and say that not only are you allowed to be enraged, anger is pretty much a normal, healthy reaction to things like this. (Obviously, there’s a point after which it becomes UNhealthy, but since this sounds pretty recent and the guy may have lied to you for years while also confirmedly being a Grade F Shitty Friend, I don’t think you have to worry about that crossing that line just yet.)
End the relationship with the guy if you haven’t already, but be prepared for him to try to reinitiate contact or, at the very least, have the last word, so take the necessary steps there (especially if you think seeing his name on your caller ID or email inbox would make you angry all over again – something I ran into when I ended a relationship with a Grade F Shitty Friend of my own last August and she continued to attempt to contact me on and off through various means well into December). Good luck.
Hannah said:
‘Hmm…I don’t think this affects Sars’ advice, but…was I the only one who thought Steve was lying .now. because his girlfriend “made” him say that, because she “discovered” he was revealing all this to someone else? I mean, after years and years of apparent bitchy, hyper-controlling behavior that has him afraid to talk on the phone to another woman IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY. It doesn’t seem hard to imagine someone who’d be so controlling, sadly (nor does it seem hard to imagine someone who’d be controlled to that extent, sadlier).’
That’s what I was thinking, too. I thought more that he was just trying to make himself look better for marrying someone awful rather than the awful woman finding out that he’d been talking about her. Seems more likely that he’d lie about that than has lied for years, but who knows. Either way, not a person worth wasting time on.
Jael, you made me forget what I was going to say!
(I agree with Jennifer at 3:12, though – as interesting as it sometimes is to “get to know” our favorite stars, I sometimes wish I hadn’t learned that they’re not as affable as their characters. It’s really hard to continue with my crush on Jayne and the Cap’n after some of the nonsense I’ve seen on their Twitter/MySpace pages. Still I soldier on.)
Good: I went through something a bit similar a few years ago – different in several key ways (the “punchline” can be summed up as, “You’re his WIFE? How can he possibly have a WIFE?… oh, you were living on another continent? I see”) but similar enough that I can relate to what you’re feeling now. There are only three – no wait, five – pieces of advice I can offer you, and unfortunately none of them involve the “how to implement” parts.
1. Don’t blame yourself for believing him. Whichever part you believed, whichever part you believe now – there WILL be people who’ll slam you and tell you that there’s “no way” you could have ever believed this or that, that you must have known the truth all along and just ignored it, that you got something out of it – cut them down immediately. People lie. Some people lie better than others. When someone – like you – assumes the best about a person and wants to help them, it’s easier for those lies to get missed. This is HIS FAULT for lying (whether the lying was then or now), and NOT your fault for believing.
2. Naturally, however, you’re going to be skittish of people’s claims in the future. Every time someone you don’t know very well sighs and says, “Oh, I had another fight with my SigOth,” you’re going to feel a little cynical wall go up and think, “Yeah, *sure* you did.” Hold on to that a little bit – learn to be cautious – but don’t let it take over too much. Remind yourself that most people are like you – mostly honest and caring – and that only a very few will deceive others to this extent.
3. Time. Time, and time, and more time. I won’t tell you how long it took me to stop hurting and feeling afraid that every person I met was lying through their teeth, because I don’t want to discourage you. But it took a lot longer than I felt it “should” have, and I needed to be reminded regularly that this was not simply a case of someone telling me a fib or two; it was someone creating an entire little world that didn’t actually exist. It completely warped my sense of reality – as if I had been living as a character in a book and suddenly stepped back out into the “real world” or vice versa. It’s a jolt, and it takes time to recover from, more than you might think. But you WILL recover.
4. DON’T – no matter how tempting, no matter how badly you want “just one answer to just one question,” no matter how convinced you are that one phone call or email will allow you to settle everything down in your head – DON’T give in to the temptation to communicate with him. I’m not clear if you’re still in contact via work; if you are, take any opportunity you can to change that. The more completely you can excise him from your life, the quicker you’ll move on. If you feel like you absolutely MUST have an answer or an explanation, pick one, tell it to yourself, and accept it as the closest thing to the truth you’re likely to get.
5. Try to have someone – ideally just two or three people – that you can talk to about it in a feeling of complete safety – people who will listen until you get as bored of it as they probably are, without judging you or telling you how you “should” or “shouldn’t” be feeling. I was fortunate to have a few people who knew how completely I’d been duped and understood my need to rage about it and grieve over it without censure or misguided advice, just support and empathy and reassurance. They were able to unload to each other instead of at me, I was able to process things without ever feeling judged or burdensome, and I don’t know how I’d have gotten through it without them.
Best of luck.
Hungry,
I often get around this dilemma with the slightly less awkward “Would you like to be invoiced now, or upon completion, or 50/50?” Then the person says “Er, on completion. Or, wait, and how much is that, exactly?” and you re-summarize “You said you wanted x, y, z – so at my day rate of A, that’s One Million Dollars”.
Can still be tricky if your rate isn’t what they were thinking, but it gets them to ask the question and so you feel you can answer more straight-up.
@Hannah: I was thinking the same thing, though I figured it was a “prepare for the new life” kinda thing: he’s been telling her for years that this was the Worst Girlfriend Ever and now he’s doing some fancy backpedaling because he’s embarrassed as all hell about marrying her, and he’d rather look like a lying tool than a gutless pansy. The fact that his explanations are so wishy washy set off my alarm bells: the “best” liars I ever met always fell back on “I don’t knows” when cornered.
@Good: whether he was lying then or lying now, I think he’ll just drag you down with him, and I doubt he’d EVER “see the error of his ways” no matter what you told him. I’d let him every so gently drift away. And then block his e-mail. I mean ya never know…
Heh @Jennifer I feel your pain on discovering the real world doesn’t match the on-screen illusion. For that reason I have made a conscious decision to never, ever read or watch anything Jason Statham says outside of a movie, just in case.
Although I have to say the one exception to this was Joel McHale who I adored just as much after meeting.
One- you are not the only one (heh). Here’s the thing to think about, it really isnt about the other potential partners, it’s more about the road not taken, in my opinion. As Sars said, we all do it to some degree about everything, “What if I had majored in something more pratical?” “What if I had taken that job accross the country?” “What if I hadn’t gone to that stupid party and seen so-and-so?” This is just another one of those things, I do it in the opposite sense, “What if I had been lucky enough to find ‘the guy’ right off?” There is no inherant value in either choice, it’s totally awesome you’ll likely only be with one guy, it’s totally awesome I won’t have, it’s just how it goes. It’s perfectly normal, though, to wonder “what if.” As Sars said, though, try not to think of it in absolutes like forever, it just makes it seem like a bigger deal than it is. It’s just a choice, or a random series of occurances, however you want to look at it, so it isn’t so dire. It just is.
I’m with Hannah on this one. My immediate thought was, “He’s lying now.” It’s that whole thing of the simplest explanation being the most likely one, and it’s far simpler to think that’s he making up one lie now to cover years of embarrassing truth.
But, it’s the time in the horror movie where you’re in the haunted house and there’s the voice going “GET OUT!” and if you’re the plucky heroine who survives, you’ll do just that and run like bunny.
I think the really important thing to try to do, is to not feel bad about it. Don’t feel bad about how you reacted over the years, don’t feel bad about being a bit pissed off now, and don’t feel bad about cutting it off. I mean, look at the kindness and compassion you’ve shown and applaud yourself for being kind and compassionate and stop right there.
I remember my Dad giving money to a person with a sob story once on a vacation once when I was a teenager. This lady had promised to send the money to him when she got back to where she was going (she was asking for greyhound fare) and all this, and he said, “Sure, sure, when you get back to where you’re going.” All the while he’s not expecting to ever see that money again. He’s not naive or stupid, it’s just a question of who he wants to be. And he’d rather be the guy that gives to someone else (when it doesn’t hurt him to do so) even if they’re lying to him, than the guy who can never bring himself to trust anyone. That’s kind of stuck with me. The idea that it’s OK to show kindness and generosity and compassion even if you don’t necessarily believe the person needs it, because that’s how you want to be regardless of who they may “really” be.
– – Rob
On Good: admittedly, I’m hearing the story through your current perspective, but I do think he was lying all along, and I join the people wondering if there was a girlfriend at all. In a weird coincidence, I was reading all about the Janna St. James/Jesse James affair and the Andy Bell impostor thing this week, where people got sucked into high-drama, hugely meaningful relationships over the internet for years that turned out to be, crudely, fake. Your Steve’s saga reminded me of the fakers’ sagas there, with the torment and the suffering and the constant eliciting of listener sympathy, and your anger at how much of your real life and real emotions got pissed away on this pretense sounds very much like the victims in those cases.
It seems clear that there’s a breed that wraps themselves up in creating attention-bait monsters of themselves and then convincing other people to feed them. I don’t know why there are people like that, at least not adult people, but that doesn’t keep them from existing. I mention this not for the joy of sociological comment, but because you might find it a little helpful to see that you’re not alone in having to face this weird and enraging task of repurposing chunks of your past and mourning the loss of both a relationship–the one you thought you had with a friend–and the emotional energy you expended in good faith. We’re familiar with con artists who are in it for the money; looks like there are those who run the long game for something we’re even more hurt for parting with. It sucks that you got hit by one.
One: This reminds me of a situation that a friend of mine has been in for a while. What I told her is that regardless of the objective reality of the situation, he’s getting something out of this relationship, and that something is drama and an abdication of responsibility for his life. Whether he’s actually in an abusive relationship, a sociopath, or just a big old liar, it’s time to cut this one off. Openings will just incur more drama and attention-seeking. You’re better off without any of that.
@Good — since you asked “How to move on”, I suggest this: think of yourself in the future telling this amazing, awful, story to a group of people at a party, or a family reunion or something. Frankly, it’s a awful thing to have happened, but a great story for the kids (when they’re older), of the “can you believe this?” variety.
@One — I’m a person in a long-term loving, committed, open relationship. People think this means I’m wildly promiscuous -huh- but in reality it just means that I don’t particularly care if my partner has a sexual (not emotional) encounter with someone else, and he doesn’t care if I do. And it happens now and then, usually when one of us is travelling. But from reading your letter, I don’t recommend this route to you. Openness is a very advanced relationship skill, and frankly isn’t suitable for most couples — there’s a lot of negotiation and ethics and mutual support issues you have to be right on top of, and both partners have to be completely cool with the idea — not just going along with it for the sake of the other. So I say: stand by your man.
And those other guys? Enjoy the attraction. It’s natural and healthy, so find the fun in the fantasy, rather than feeling guilty — or worse, being disappointed by the reality. Trust someone who knows — it’s never as good as the package makes it look, and sex with the person you love is always way, way better.
Clooney excepted.
Good, wow. I really can’t believe there are people so a)sociopathic and b)small thinking they would come up with a ruse like this, but I don’t believe it for the same reason most sane adults don’t–it’s beyond bizarre that someone would come up with this kind of thing and not even, like, try to convince you they’re a Nambian prince who needs your help and bank account numbers to move their treasure out of the country. It’s like Joan Cusak’s character in High Fideltiy when Rob’s girlfreind is telling her all the shit that went down in their relationship, and she sits back open mouthed and finally just says “That’s SHOCKING. That is SHOCKING.”
To quote The Savage, DTHMFA. This person is either insane, or… no. You know what? He’s insane. I don’t know what kind, but who the fuck cares? He does not deserve one more second of your time and attention for this whacked-out little scheme.
And don’t be surprised if it takes you less time than you thought, rather than more, to get over it. Once he’s not in your headspace and you can see it from outside, the complete lameness of it all may amaze you, and you might feel a bit off or floaty that it’s finally gone. If this happens, enjoy. Than move on to your real life.
One, you are so not. There is no person living who was fortunate enough to have life choices that didn’t question them. Did I go to the right schools, get the right job, bond with the right man/woman?
Desire is a powerful thing, and don’t forget, our culture has created entire ECONOMIES devoted to rousing desires and sating them with products. Than we have other entire economies devoted to making us feel guilty for desiring things, and soothing that guilt.
You are not crazy, selfish, wrong, or bad. And you won’t stop having desires if someday you can just be a “good enough” spouse, or some such poppycock. Desire or death, take your pick.
The best advice I ever heard about choosing was to just go ahead and pick one or the other, because the worst thing that can happen is that you will have made a horrible mistake. And you know what? It’s true, and you may make horrible mistakes, but you are allowed to move on from them.
And finally…@Laura? Clooney or Hamm? A scoop of each, please. Or, you know, two scoops. Or, wait, I need a bucket. *dragging sound* There we go. Fill that up. I’ll wait.
Uh, anonymous for this one, I think, but One, we are in very similar boats. Also 25; also met my boyfriend freshman year of college; also adore him. He was my “first” (though I had some HS experiences); I was his second. However, while we were getting together, we weren’t exactly exclusive and he hooked up with someone else. Relatedly, I think, I’ve come much closer to cheating on him than you have with your fiance. (While still not being able to let his not-actually-a-transgression-given-our-technical-status-at-the-time go. Did I mention that I am, legit, a bad person?) I stress about this on an irregular but recurring basis. The upshot for me is that I love him way too much to throw him/us/it away. So my life doesn’t get to be the way I thought it’d be while reading Cosmo at 13 (See 13 Going on 30: Thirty, Flirty, and Fabulous!). That’s just one shitty thing in a long line of shitty things that have happened/will happen to me, and frankly, in the range of shittiness possible, it’s just not that bad. There’s no good way to change it, but after consideration, it’s something I can live with. Good luck.
@LLyzabeth (& Hannah) — “The fact that his explanations are so wishy washy set off my alarm bells: the “best” liars I ever met always fell back on “I don’t knows” when cornered.” …Ain’t that the truth. Similarly, this makes so little sense I can’t stand it, and it clearly confuses the hell out of Good). As Judge Judy would say, “if it doesn’t make sense, it’s not true.”
Whether he was lying then or now, what I can say is she doesn’t know the whole truth. It’s a lot easier to say “she’s great and I’m a big fat liar” than it is to maintain a believable long-term lie with no discernible motive. Sorry, but guys don’t do that, even crazy ones. I doubt he is embarrassed, either, since he’s certainly *already* represented himself as a gutless pansy. I’d bet thousands of dollars his girlfriend found out and stood next to him on the phone while he said that to her. That’s what those girls do, and that’s what those guys do.
Please stop ruining Adam Baldwin for me, y’all.
@One, Oh wow, I’m getting married in a little over a month and this definitely hit home. My fiance is not my first. He’s pretty far from it, actually. However, I am his first everything, including kiss. I actually worry about both of our capacities for monogamy. Me, because, well I know what other grass is out there and while it may not be greener, it’s different grass. I worry about him because well, I’m all he knows, and I have a lot of the fears for him that you mentioned. The best way we’ve found to deal with these “omg forever” feelings is to talk frequently about our feelings and fears in general, and not just with each other. Therapists, close relatives, whomever will have good advice helps calm down the fear and put in perspective why I want to marry this wonderful man even though the Clooney is still out there. The best advice I’ve found is not to dwell on the things that will be dealbreakers. Obviously there are things that can and do break marriages up, but I don’t think you have a dealbreaker issue here, and you need to learn to talk it out, make your peace with it, let it be, and “think about” whomever you want to when needed. Trust me, the “thinking” helps.
@One: everyone getting married goes through this. Ev. Ry. One. (Ok, for the 9 people out there who didn’t, awesome, you win, go eat some cake.) I had a hearty scoop of sexual partners before I met my husband, and I went through this. Hell, I GO through this. It doesn’t make you a bad person, and it doesn’t mean your love for your fiance is somehow flawed. It means monogomy is TOUGH, and, more importantly, that you get that. I mean, hell, salted caramel ice cream is my favorite flavor, but if that’s all I chose to ever eat for the rest of my life, I’d be thinking about the mocha almond fudge from time to time. Or that new bittersweet chocolate flavor that just came out.
You get through it by…getting through it. When it flares up, recognize it for what it is–a longing that is both real and temporary, and you feel wistful, and you communicate with your guy in a loving, mindful way about it, and you wait for it to pass. Because it will. It does. And if Dan Savage is really arguing that these “flare-ups” mean that you will 100% definitely cheat, then he is equating “feelings” with “actions,” and therefore can further equate “his face” with “my ass.”
Listen to Sars. You can do this. You can ROCK this.
One: My situation is pretty similar to yours. I did have one sexual partner before my husband, but it wasn’t a very intense relationship, and my husband and I were together for years before getting married.
But one great thing about having a close, communicative relationship with a sexual partner is that you can talk about this stuff, and try some…um… “new and interesting” things in the bedroom (or elsewhere).
And getting all worked up thinking about somebody else is totally understandable, and happens to everyone–just be sure to take out those feelings on your spouse. (Mine should probably send Christian Kane a thank-you note…) :)
@ferretrick – other fish in the sea. May I introduce you to this lovely gentleman? http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0035514/ If you get BBC Canada, check out 10pm tonight. Enjoy. And: you’re welcome.
Man, I’m glad I’m an Alan Tudyk girl, with all I’ve learned today.
And I’ll echo everything the other marrieds have said here. I used to have a friend who claimed to have sampled hundreds of dishes before she got married. (Well, OK, between marriage one and marriage two. I know — who has that kind of time?!) Guess what? Still turned out she hadn’t had enough “variety.” They divorced within two years.
Obviously this is an extreme case, but it just goes to show that diversity of experience is no guarantee against post-settle-down ennui. It’s totally, totally a normal thing. And actually, your awareness of that will better equip you to handle monogamy.
[quote] And if Dan Savage is really arguing that these “flare-ups” mean that you will 100% definitely cheat, then he is equating “feelings” with “actions,” and therefore can further equate “his face” with “my ass.”[/quote]
Just for the record, that is not at all what Dan Savage says. I have heard him say something smiilar to what the letter writer says he said in response to people who have written about being in sexless relationships FOR YEARS, with no sign that their partner wants or cares to change the situation or try to meet their needs. The letter writer’s situation is totally different and I don’t believe Savage would tell her that she will eventually cheat on her spouse when they have a good, satisfying sex life.
@Baldwin Twitter and other terrifying knowledge: One of the things I learned early on is that it’s important–indeed, vital–to separate the artist from the art. Nobody looks like the stories they tell. (Indeed, it’s hardly surprising to learn that actors aren’t like you see them on TV–convincingly portraying a fictional character is their whole job.)
I learned this lesson with King, Card, Ringo, Williams, Connelly, Steve Jackson Games…the list goes on. Awesome media products, and arseholes the lot of ’em in real life.
******
@One: It seems to me that an important question is whether the two of you find enjoyment in your physical intimacy–and whether you have a relationship outside mere physicality. If so, then I don’t think it’s a concern that you (or your partner) occasionally grind your gears over some fantasy image.
@One: My husband is also the first (and only) person I’ve had sex with, and practically my first anything too. He, meanwhile, had a good number of sexual partners before me. Right before we got married, I could’ve written this letter too — it was something I panicked about and something we talked about, but I’m the same as you — I couldn’t deal with an open relationship, and neither could he (though he did understand my fears and didn’t rule it out for some point in the future). I just needed to know I wasn’t trapped, and talking to him reassured me that I wasn’t.
I know it seems terrifying now, but I found that it does lessen with time. I have to admit it is still something I think about from time to time, and I do still occasionally wish I’d had other partners, but not at the expense of this relationship. Marriage feels BIG and scary and forever, but it’s just a series of days in which you decide you want to stay together. (Sorry if that sounds really cynical — I just mean that none of us know what will happen in the future, so you don’t have to think of it as FOREVER. I prefer to think that day by day you’re making a positive choice to stay together instead of just running on autopilot.)
I don’t know if my feelings will change as time goes on — I’ve almost expected them to, but they haven’t. And if they do, then we’ll deal with it together. I think the important thing is what you guys already have — good communication, and being honest with each other. I think you guys will be just fine.
Aw, man. Usually I enjoy the new information I learn from Sars and commenters in the Nation. Why oh why did I have to read the comments about Adam Baldwin, whom I have loved since “My Bodyguard”? And then why oh why did I have to go to his twitter page, and then to his blog, and read more? Right wing nutter is an understatement. I’m mourning my now dead crush (not that he’s dead, just that my crush on him is dead — oh, you know what I mean). And I was having such a good day, too . . .
To One: I’ve been with my husband for 11 years, married for 9. He’s the 3rd person I’ve slept with, and we have a fantastic sex life even after all of these years. I adore him and find him incredibly attractive and would never, ever cheat. And yet, not only have I wanted and needed my alone time thinking about Baldwin (please, no one disabuse me of my notions regarding Clooney), every once in a while, I’ll see some guy on the el or in a bar and have that momentary shiver of attraction and curiosity — “I wonder what it would be like to sleep with him.” Won’t ever do it, doesn’t have anything to do with my love for or sex life with my husband, but it’s there and, as many have said before me, it’s normal. But remember, you know that thing that you really like? The one that makes you go wild? Your man knows that too. Strange guy doesn’t.
Good — I have actually had a friendship with a pathological liar before. Granted it was a she and the lying happened while we were teenagers, but she would tell me very detailed, very believable, and sometimes very horrible experiences with enough sincerity that I never questioned her. But she got away with it for a long time because the stories all involved people in the state she had lived in before moving to my hometown. Then she told a mutual friend that a boy in our class had raped her and when the story fell apart pretty quickly (the details being much easier to verify), I started realizing how many times she was lying to me.
I later realized she told me these stories most often when she was feeling insecure and wanted to be the center of attention (while she was smart, her older brother was a certifiable genius and I was one of those “good kids” who got nominated for school awards a lot). Which is not to excuse her — and it took me YEARS of thinking to figure that little bit of her psychology out and forgive her for the emotional turmoil she put me through because I felt so guilty about cutting off our friendship, but maybe this will shed some light on what Steve’s motivations might be. Also, don’t feel bad for cutting him out of your life: my “Steve” is still the only person I’ve known in real life that I refused to friend on Facebook.
This is great from SarahL:
“One: Best advice I ever received about attraction/desire for other people when you are in a committed relationship….
It doesn’t matter where you get your appetite as long as you come home hungry.”
One, I’ve been with my husband for nearly 13 years and married for 11.5 of them. Before I met him I sowed my wild oats, which was why I was ready to settle down at a relatively young age.
And I love my husband very much and would never, ever cheat on him, but yes: monogomy is hard. And being married isn’t the same as never finding anybody attractive. Part of me wishes that I could take some kind of magic pill and never find any man but my husband attractive, but then I think that having to actively choose to remain faithful is quite good, in a way: it reaffirms that you have chosen this relationship with this person.
For me, it is a drama because I make friends easily, of both genders. And I can count three guys who I have become friends with in recent years, only to realise that there was a definite attraction between us and that it could become troublesome. One such occasion was just last night: I’d been out for drinks with this mate of mine (met through a work project and have always gotten on well), and when we went to hug each other goodbye we both went, ‘Damn.’ And so we know that this isn’t a friendship that either of us can pursue because, if were both single, it would be a very different relationship, and that sucks. But I’d rather accept that than ever consider cheating on my spouse.
So, long story short: you will still fancy other men and wonder about what it would be like to have sex with them. Make your peace with it, because it probably won’t stop. But you sound like a smart woman to me and I’m sure that you will continue to acknowledge that the certainty of what you’ve got with your soon-to-be husband is worth more than all the other men, combined.
@Good, I had an intense and drama-filled, mostly online friendship with someone for a few years which ended with me wondering about a lot of the stuff she’d said and whether she’d meant any of it (although to be fair she did sometimes take an interest in my problems).
I gradually came to realise that she’d had a very troubled early life which had affected her ability to function normally in relationships of whatever kind, and that expecting her to behave like other friends was useless. So when I finally felt that I couldn’t put up with the drama behaviour, I had to say to myself firmly that I could never treat anyone else like she did me, and it had to stop.
It helped me to make a clean break – delete all her emails, box up the various cards and gifts we’d exchanged, write off the project we’d been working on together and so on. It felt strangely like a romantic break-up in that regard, but now, a few years on, I can look back at it calmly and think ‘well, that was a weird experience but something I learnt a few things from’. You cannot help the Steves of this world unfortunately.
@One, I think the heart-felt response here shows that you are definitely not alone in feeling this! I’ve been married for 7 years this year, and I wish my husband and I had done pre-marital counselling of some sort to thrash out a couple of issues that we have only recently managed to get some sort of agreement on. I’m not religious but anyone sensible used to talking over monogamy and other couple issues would have done, including a vicar. If you do it now it saves couples’ counselling further down the line, take it from me!
@Money-Hungry (you sound polite not money-hungry to me), I’ve been freelancing for five years now and am very familiar with the slightly cringy part of the conversation when it’s time to talk about money. I agree with the suggestion that having a scale of charges on your website or that you can send as a pdf is helpful, but keep it vague if you can and mention ranges.
Over the years I have experienced the situation where the client was keen to pay me more than I thought I was worth, and less, but either I wanted the work or thought their name on my CV might be useful. It’s also helpful to know what others in your line of work charge so that you know whether you’re positioning yourself as a premimum option, a good value option or a budget option. I
Whoops, naughty laptop cut me off before I finished the comment. I was just going to add that once you’re confident with your hourly or daily rate, you can finesse it a bit with things like travel (included or not?) I’ve just finished a freelance job where the travel required cut a significant slice off the fee, so if I had had the option to charge a higher rate to take that into account, I would have.