If Mother Earth were a bride, she’d love this …
(with a nod to alongstory)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
What was I thinking?
In response to Anonymous’ excellent questions...
The bonehead was, indeed, a boomerang. He came along at a time of great pain and confusion. He was charismatic, ambitious and well-off. He was far ahead of the other boys I knew — he had a sports car, owned a condo, was already on a career trajectory, had lots of plans for the future and was looking for a strong, independent woman (or so he thought). Most of all, though, he soothed my pain. That, alone, was reason enough to stay with him.
We married after dating for three years. Truth is, it was time to marry or end it. And I didn’t have the energy to end it. Instead, I wasted $20,000 of my parents money on a wedding. Seemed like a good choice at the time.
I wasn’t in love with him. Never really had been. He couldn’t hurt me because of that. And that was comforting. (Turns out that breaking your heart isn’t the only way someone can hurt you, but that’s another story for another day.)
These days, I wouldn’t give him a second look. He’s not my type, being a liar and a thief. Besides, there’s no longer room in my life for people who can’t get under my skin.
Many people in my life have wondered what I was thinking marrying a ding dong like him. I used to try to explain it. Now I let it go.
If I were the only woman in history to fall into this trap, I’d feel a need to defend myself. Given that this phenomenon afflicts many women — especially professionally successful women — I don’t any longer.
The bonehead was, indeed, a boomerang. He came along at a time of great pain and confusion. He was charismatic, ambitious and well-off. He was far ahead of the other boys I knew — he had a sports car, owned a condo, was already on a career trajectory, had lots of plans for the future and was looking for a strong, independent woman (or so he thought). Most of all, though, he soothed my pain. That, alone, was reason enough to stay with him.
We married after dating for three years. Truth is, it was time to marry or end it. And I didn’t have the energy to end it. Instead, I wasted $20,000 of my parents money on a wedding. Seemed like a good choice at the time.
I wasn’t in love with him. Never really had been. He couldn’t hurt me because of that. And that was comforting. (Turns out that breaking your heart isn’t the only way someone can hurt you, but that’s another story for another day.)
These days, I wouldn’t give him a second look. He’s not my type, being a liar and a thief. Besides, there’s no longer room in my life for people who can’t get under my skin.
Many people in my life have wondered what I was thinking marrying a ding dong like him. I used to try to explain it. Now I let it go.
If I were the only woman in history to fall into this trap, I’d feel a need to defend myself. Given that this phenomenon afflicts many women — especially professionally successful women — I don’t any longer.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
The bonehead drops by
Every three years or so, he pops in out of the blue. My phone rings at work, the number is unfamiliar and always different. I pick up.
“Hi Beth, it’s Bonehead.*”
I wish it didn’t take my breath away, but it does every time. It feels like a sucker punch. Takes a few seconds to recover.
“What’s up? You doin’ OK? What’s up?“ he says, with a nervous laugh.
“I’m really well,” I say, after a fashion. “Things are great, thanks for asking.”
Fortunately, that’s enough to turn the focus back to him. Because it is, after all, all about him.
He’s married again. For the fourth time. Has an 8-month-old daughter. God help us all.
He’s recovered from his bankruptcy. Still not talking to his sister and doesn’t much care for his father, but, well, his father’s dying so Bonehead stays in touch these days. (C’mon, say it with me: “inheritance.”)
He owns a dental practice (though he’s not a dentist) and a building (also not a developer). But he’s bored, so he’s looking to buy a strip club (it’s right up his alley). He was careful to explain that you don’t get into the strip club business because you want to “blankety-blank” the girls.
“It’s just a business like any other,” he says.
“Ah,” I say, resisting the urge to opine that I can’t imagine who’d want to blankety-blank him anyway.
He still thinks I'm the “smartest lady“ he’s ever met — “one the smartest people, actually.” Thinks I’d love his new wife. We’re just alike — “smart and sassy.”
“You know, you were a great wife,” says he. “I think about you a lot, and all the things you taught me.”
“Funny,” says I, “I don't think about you at all.”
Another nervous laugh. Then he changes the subject. And so on.
I don’t know what it does for him, this intermittent contact with Wife #1. He can’t be proud of his four marriages, can he? Or of his bankruptcy? His lying and cheating and stealing from anyone close to him? Can any of that be stuff he’d want to share?
Maybe he’s trying to make amends? To reassure himself that I’m better off without him? Perhaps he has a misguided sense that his failings are somehow badges of honor. Or maybe he just gets off on jumping out of the shadows …
I decided a long time ago I would not ask him to stop calling. He’d make a big stink out of it, and frankly, he’s not worth the effort. Besides, it’s a passive way to show him how far from him I’ve landed. For a 20-minute investment every three years the ROI is pretty good.
And now, I’ve exhausted my need to dissect this thing. Once this post goes up, I’ll go back to not thinking about him at all. And while I still won’t know what this little charade does for him, I’m crystal clear on what it does for me.
It reminds me who I am, where I’ve come.
And that I'm loved.
Peace.
* not his real name.
“Hi Beth, it’s Bonehead.*”
I wish it didn’t take my breath away, but it does every time. It feels like a sucker punch. Takes a few seconds to recover.
“What’s up? You doin’ OK? What’s up?“ he says, with a nervous laugh.
“I’m really well,” I say, after a fashion. “Things are great, thanks for asking.”
Fortunately, that’s enough to turn the focus back to him. Because it is, after all, all about him.
He’s married again. For the fourth time. Has an 8-month-old daughter. God help us all.
He’s recovered from his bankruptcy. Still not talking to his sister and doesn’t much care for his father, but, well, his father’s dying so Bonehead stays in touch these days. (C’mon, say it with me: “inheritance.”)
He owns a dental practice (though he’s not a dentist) and a building (also not a developer). But he’s bored, so he’s looking to buy a strip club (it’s right up his alley). He was careful to explain that you don’t get into the strip club business because you want to “blankety-blank” the girls.
“It’s just a business like any other,” he says.
“Ah,” I say, resisting the urge to opine that I can’t imagine who’d want to blankety-blank him anyway.
He still thinks I'm the “smartest lady“ he’s ever met — “one the smartest people, actually.” Thinks I’d love his new wife. We’re just alike — “smart and sassy.”
“You know, you were a great wife,” says he. “I think about you a lot, and all the things you taught me.”
“Funny,” says I, “I don't think about you at all.”
Another nervous laugh. Then he changes the subject. And so on.
I don’t know what it does for him, this intermittent contact with Wife #1. He can’t be proud of his four marriages, can he? Or of his bankruptcy? His lying and cheating and stealing from anyone close to him? Can any of that be stuff he’d want to share?
Maybe he’s trying to make amends? To reassure himself that I’m better off without him? Perhaps he has a misguided sense that his failings are somehow badges of honor. Or maybe he just gets off on jumping out of the shadows …
I decided a long time ago I would not ask him to stop calling. He’d make a big stink out of it, and frankly, he’s not worth the effort. Besides, it’s a passive way to show him how far from him I’ve landed. For a 20-minute investment every three years the ROI is pretty good.
And now, I’ve exhausted my need to dissect this thing. Once this post goes up, I’ll go back to not thinking about him at all. And while I still won’t know what this little charade does for him, I’m crystal clear on what it does for me.
It reminds me who I am, where I’ve come.
And that I'm loved.
Peace.
* not his real name.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Playing against type
The first time I took the Myers-Briggs personality type indicator, I was an ENTJ — Extravert, iNtuitive, Thinking, Judging.
In other words, an Extravert hardass whose gut served her well.
The last time I took the Myers-Briggs, I was an ENFP — Extrovert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Perceiving.
An Extravert whose gut helps her understand and empathize.
My first reaction to the discrepancy was to assume Myers-Briggs is a crock of shit. Isn’t it supposed to tell you who you are at your core? How is it possible that two of my type indicators could flip-flop in fewer than 20 years?
Turns out, it’s not unusual. Nurture and experience whittle and smooth our psyches every day. Besides, even though Myers-Briggs tags you with certain types, if you look at your answers in the raw, you’ll see there are shades and shades of gray. Take the test two days in a row, and if you’re right on the border of T and F, you might be a T today and an F tomorrow.
I mention this for two reasons: 1) because I had a “T” moment the other day that bugs me still; and 2) because I’m a weirdo, who sits right at the border in two of the four categories.
1. Extravert. Undeniably. I act first, think later. I need interaction with the outside world. I’m open to and motivated by outside people and experiences. And I need a wide variety of people and experiences in my life. The only characteristic of Introvert that comes close to describing me is the need for private time. Otherwise, I'm an E all the way.
2. Perceiving. Again, this is a slam-dunk. I’m completely comfortable making a plan on-the-go; love to multitask and mix work and play; work best close to deadlines; and work hard to avoid situations that limit my flexibility and freedom. (Box me in at your own peril.)
This is where things get fuzzy.
3. Sensing/iNtuitive. I tend to live for now, base my future expectations on past experiences and use common sense to guide my way — clearly Sensing characteristics. I’m also imaginative, creative, contextual and can live in the theoretical — all iNtuitive characteristics.
4. Thinking/Feeling. I instinctively search for facts and logic to inform my decisions, use critical analysis to mold my future behavior and accept conflict as a natural, normal part of relationships with people (all Thinking characteristics). On the other hand, I am naturally sensitive to other people’s needs and reactions, and instinctively consider personal feelings and impact on people in my decisions (clearly Feeling characteristics).
Blah-bitty, blah-bitty, blah.
So what’s the point of this rambling deconstruction of my Myers Briggs? Oh, it’s so silly. Yesterday, I had a phone conversation that, upon reflection, was just stupid. It started in Feeling territory — Where have you been? I was worried. Are things OK? — and crossed into Thinking territory without notice — I'm glad you’re OK. Wait a minute… You’re OK? How dare you just disappear like that? WTF?
The more I think about it, the more I realize it was ridiculous. More importantly, I was being ridiculous — acting a fool, as they say here in the South.
As I pondered my behavior (Thinking) and felt bad at how it must have felt on the other end (Feeling), it brought me to Myers Briggs. Which brings me to this post.
And really, that’s all I got.
Thanks for wading through the rambles. I'm not sure why you do, but I’m awfully grateful.
In other words, an Extravert hardass whose gut served her well.
The last time I took the Myers-Briggs, I was an ENFP — Extrovert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Perceiving.
An Extravert whose gut helps her understand and empathize.
My first reaction to the discrepancy was to assume Myers-Briggs is a crock of shit. Isn’t it supposed to tell you who you are at your core? How is it possible that two of my type indicators could flip-flop in fewer than 20 years?
Turns out, it’s not unusual. Nurture and experience whittle and smooth our psyches every day. Besides, even though Myers-Briggs tags you with certain types, if you look at your answers in the raw, you’ll see there are shades and shades of gray. Take the test two days in a row, and if you’re right on the border of T and F, you might be a T today and an F tomorrow.
I mention this for two reasons: 1) because I had a “T” moment the other day that bugs me still; and 2) because I’m a weirdo, who sits right at the border in two of the four categories.
1. Extravert. Undeniably. I act first, think later. I need interaction with the outside world. I’m open to and motivated by outside people and experiences. And I need a wide variety of people and experiences in my life. The only characteristic of Introvert that comes close to describing me is the need for private time. Otherwise, I'm an E all the way.
2. Perceiving. Again, this is a slam-dunk. I’m completely comfortable making a plan on-the-go; love to multitask and mix work and play; work best close to deadlines; and work hard to avoid situations that limit my flexibility and freedom. (Box me in at your own peril.)
This is where things get fuzzy.
3. Sensing/iNtuitive. I tend to live for now, base my future expectations on past experiences and use common sense to guide my way — clearly Sensing characteristics. I’m also imaginative, creative, contextual and can live in the theoretical — all iNtuitive characteristics.
4. Thinking/Feeling. I instinctively search for facts and logic to inform my decisions, use critical analysis to mold my future behavior and accept conflict as a natural, normal part of relationships with people (all Thinking characteristics). On the other hand, I am naturally sensitive to other people’s needs and reactions, and instinctively consider personal feelings and impact on people in my decisions (clearly Feeling characteristics).
Blah-bitty, blah-bitty, blah.
So what’s the point of this rambling deconstruction of my Myers Briggs? Oh, it’s so silly. Yesterday, I had a phone conversation that, upon reflection, was just stupid. It started in Feeling territory — Where have you been? I was worried. Are things OK? — and crossed into Thinking territory without notice — I'm glad you’re OK. Wait a minute… You’re OK? How dare you just disappear like that? WTF?
The more I think about it, the more I realize it was ridiculous. More importantly, I was being ridiculous — acting a fool, as they say here in the South.
As I pondered my behavior (Thinking) and felt bad at how it must have felt on the other end (Feeling), it brought me to Myers Briggs. Which brings me to this post.
And really, that’s all I got.
Thanks for wading through the rambles. I'm not sure why you do, but I’m awfully grateful.
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