Dear Sars,

When you identify more with characters in Buñuel films
than with the cast of The Real World, you just might
have a problem. So here it is, and hopefully you can
help: I have real issues with intimacy.For example,
I’m a senior in college and am only now starting to
get to the point where I can actually confide in my
close friends, and even then it’s only with real
effort — and afterwards I always feel ashamed, as
though I’ve been discussing an embarrassing rash
instead of my feelings.Another troublesome result of
these issues is that I’ve never really been in a
relationship: I either lose interest after a few
dates, or I can’t even work up the courage to let myself
be interested in someone for fear he won’t
reciprocate. Not the courage to act on the interest,
mind you, but the courage to even admit to myself that
I’m interested.The few men that have expressed
interest in me usually want me to be the strong one in
the relationship, and are perfectly content to be
passive and admiring. This is not only hugely dull but
also the polar opposite of what I’m looking for in a
relationship.

I’m fully aware that I often (okay, always) come across
as standoffish. It’s not that I’m frigid — I’m just
terrified of allowing myself to become vulnerable.
What do I do?I have plenty of male friends, but none
ever seem to be interested in me as anything but a
friend. I’ve been trying to be more approachable, but
the touchy-giggly style of flirting that usually
comprises the twentysomething mating ritual is entirely
out of character for me.Whenever I try that style, I
usually end up feeling foolish, but when I don’t use
it I feel as though men just never think of me as a
potential girlfriend.

How can I interact with men
without getting stuck playing either the Ice Queen or
the gurgling ditz?And, more importantly, how can I
get over my dread of intimacy?

Thanks, Sars — I love your writing and your advice.

Belle du Jour

Dear Belle,

First, give yourself a break.It doesn’t matter whether you approach relationships the way the mythical “everyone else” does; what matters is whether your way functions, whether it works and/or makes you happy.It doesn’t sound like it does.

So, the next thing is to spend some time thinking about why you feel so afraid.What do you think will happen if your armor shows some chinks?What’s the worst-case scenario for you?What’s the fear — abandonment?Ridicule?Pain?Figure it out.Write it down.Don’t let your mind shy away from it, even if your instinct is to tell yourself that “that’s stupid,” or “nobody wants to get hurt, big deal.”To deal with these things, you have to give them names, and I think the name here is “control” — you keep yourself tightly controlled in your interactions with other people, because you know in your heart that you can’t control other people, and that terrifies you because of its potential to hurt you through no fault of your own — but that’s for you to decide, not I.

Recognize what it is that makes you afraid, and when you feel yourself reacting to it in the future — whatever it is — make yourself wait a minute before you default to shutting people out.Stop and think.Acknowledge that the situation has you tightening up, and try to breathe through it.

You won’t change overnight or anything, and the unfamiliarity of letting your guard down is going to feel really uncomfortable at first, so start slowly.Stop criticizing yourself; examine your reactions, and work on changing them — with an eye not to “everyone else,” but to feeling happier about your relationships with other people.

Dear Sars,

I am 37 years old, and my husband is 41.We have been married for
three years.I love my
husband like crazy; he is my best friend and the person that I can’t wait to
talk to at the end of
the day.We are both easygoing, we communicate well, and we give each other
a lot of space to
do our own thing.Unfortunately, we have hit a situation that we can’t seem
to deal with.

My husband wants to have a baby.I am not sure that I do.When we first
got married, it did not
look like we would be able to have a baby.(He had a vasectomy in his first
marriage, and the
reversal was unsuccessful.)We both thought that if it happened, fine, and it
if didn’t, that would be
fine too.Now, thanks to medical technology, it looks as though it will be
possible for us to have a child.
My husband is thrilled — he says that he loves our life right now and that
children will only add to our happiness.
He has also made the statement that he feels that life would be empty
without children.He
knows that I am less thrilled, and he has said that he doesn’t want me to
feel pressured and that
he wants it to be something we both want.But how can I say no?It means
so much to him, and
maybe I would love it too; I just don’t know.

I like my life right now. I don’t know if I am ready to make a huge change,
but we can’t really
wait because of our age.We have a considerable debt load that is the
result of decisions made in
our previous lives before we met, and quite frankly, that means that having
children will mean
a huge amount of financial stress.I have been told by well-meaning friends
that I am not
supposed to make this decision based on finances, but surely it must be a
factor.Also, we both
work full-time in demanding jobs.I am tired at the end of the day.After
work I want to make
dinner, do some household chores, and crash in front of the TV or read a good
book. I want to
have time to go out to dinner once in a while, or meet my friends for drinks.
I want to have fun.
I look at my friends who work and have families, and they are exhausted all
of the time.They
love to tell me that if I have kids, I can “forget about my own needs for 15
to 20 years,” and then
they always add, “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”Is this the truth
or a way of dealing
with uncomfortable cognitive dissonance?

I love kids, and the thought of having a baby with my husband moves me in a
way that I cannot
express.But then my practical voice breaks in and brings me back to
reality.I just don’t know
how I am supposed to work full-time and be a mother.I am afraid that I
won’t be able to cope
and that the sacrifices will be too great. Parenting isn’t a part-time job.
I take it very seriously.
If I have children, I want to take care of them until they are in school; I
do not want to hand them
off to daycare at 7:30 AM and pick them up at 5:30 PM so I can work all day
to pay the bills.I
am a feminist and I will fight to the death for mothers to have access to
excellent daycare and
benefits, but I want to be with my kids.I don’t think that I have the
energy to do everything and
do it well.Unfortunately, staying home is not an option financially —
believe me, I have
examined every possibility.If we wait until we are financially able to
afford that, I will be 45-plus
and no longer able to have children.

I don’t want to deny my husband something that is obviously so important to
him.I also don’t
want to make a decision that I will regret for the rest of my life.How do
we make this important
decision?Dr. Phil calls it a “deal-breaker,” and I am afraid that it could
really hurt our marriage
either way.Do you or your readers have any suggestions?

Thanks,
Terminal Indecision

Dear Terminal,

Before I get into the other issues here, I want to address your contention that parents don’t have lives — at least, not by your definition.It’s true that some parents wind up run ragged by the demands of work and family, and I don’t wish to underplay the sheer amount of time that children require, but I know plenty of parents who work full-time, have demanding social schedules, and still make plenty of time for QT with the shorties.It’s not an easy thing to balance, but when it comes down to it, you make time for the things that matter.It’s doable.

Of course, it’s not doable for everyone, and before you make the decision to have kids or not, you have to take that into account — along with all the other concerns you’ve mentioned.And you have to talk to your husband about every last one of them with utter frankness.You have to get everything out on the table: the financial quandary, the stay-at-home-vs.-work issue, the biological clock, the fear that he’ll leave you if you don’t agree to have children.All of it.

It’s a terrifying conversation, and you’ll hear things you don’t like and things that scare you, but avoiding those things won’t help, and if you want to continue making a life with your husband, the two of you have to reach an agreement on how that life is going to go — or not, and take it from there.Start the conversation.Keep it going, for days or weeks or however long it takes.Tell the truth to yourself and to him about what you want, from the conversation and from the marriage.Insist that he do the same.

Dr. Phil is right that the having-kids issue can be a deal-breaker, but in your case, it’s not a matter of your just flat-out not wanting kids; it’s a matter of your having extensive fears and concerns and questions about it, and as such, I think the two of you can work through it somehow.

Dear Sars,

I got married to Nat in late 2000, after the two of us returned to our hometown after a two-year stint for college out west.Upon getting back, we started seeing our high school friends again after falling out of touch during our time away, and most of them came to our wedding.The problem I’m having is with one friend — Jen.Jen and I were friends in high school, and Nat even dated her for a little while (no hard feelings on any side).We might not have even gotten together with Jen at all when we got back into town, except that she was rooming with another friend of ours.So Jen came to the wedding, and she brought her boyfriend, Mick.

Nobody likes Mick, before the wedding or now.He is completely obsessed with independent film, he’s 29 (we’re all younger), and he has a nowhere job and is on the creepy side.Those were my feelings before the wedding.Then, at the wedding — in the receiving line even — he makes a pass at me, though I am clearly in a large white dress.I’ve blocked out the exact wording, but it was much to the effect of “you look amazing, let me know if/when you get tired of Nat,” effectively giving me a huge case of the heebie-jeebies.So I avoid Jen and Mick for awhile without having to supply a reason, and they break up (it had been coming for a long time due to all of the above; Jen did the breaking up).So then Nat and I happily hang with Jen, who frequently regales us with stories about how awful Mick was, and how he was terrible in bed, and how he is a big loser with serious emotional problems.I was quite happy to listen to this since I of course agreed with all her negative opinions.

But then, a month ago, Mick got a girlfriend.Jen freaked out about it, decided that he was the only man for her, and got back together with him and got engaged even (she’s one of those women who has been planning her wedding since she was three).Now, Nat and I are expected to go to movies with them and help her plan the wedding, and all I can think is, this jerk-off made a pass at me at my freaking wedding.I’ve never told Jen about it, because I figured there would several outcomes, none of which could be good.Now I’m wishing that I had told her.Nat of course knows about the whole thing, but is no help, as he wants me to decide what to do.

Which is the hard part.I know I want nothing to do with Mick, but I like Jen, and while she is definitely on the immature side, she’s had a lot to deal with.However, I sincerely doubt that any attempt I make to tell Jen about the incident now, or to otherwise encourage her to not marry Mick, will be met with complete silence or indignant anger of the “I know you’ve never liked him but this is ridiculous!” sort.

So, Sars, what do you think — shall I just stop calling Jen and wait for her to break up with Mick, call her and tell her about the pass thing and see what happens, or should I try to forget about it and go be social?

Sincerely,
E

Dear E,

Taking the path of least resistance does not always imply a lack of moral fiber; often, it implies common sense.Pursuant to that, forget about it and go be social.

Maybe I don’t have the proper context, but honestly, that remark sounds innocuously jokey to me, and it’s not like Mick tried to kiss you.Bringing it up two years later, for the stated purpose of breaking Mick and Jen up, is guaranteed to cause about a hundred times more trouble than it warrants.Maybe Mick is a sleaze, but that’s Jen’s problem, not yours.She already knows how you feel about him.

If you don’t want to spend time with Mick, don’t, but don’t get in the middle of him and Jen.It’s not your place, and it’s not worth it.

[10/22/02]

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