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Baggage, Idiosyncrasies and Personality Defects

Boxing Gloves (courtesy xedos4)

The honeymoon is officially over. We had our first serious disagreement. It could have been tragic, had things not turned around.

Things had been going well between Frog Prince and me. When things go well, it’s, as some might say, nothing to write home about. So, I haven’t been blogging. Who wants to read about all hearts and flowers? Boring!!

I’m blogging now because things have just gotten interesting.

FP and I were in what people call the ‘honeymoon’ phase of our new relationship. We got along well, were really into each other and the hormones kicked in. Perfectly natural. But, this is not to say that I have been ignoring my gut when noticing things that may indicate FP’s suitability as a good match. And, I have discovered a few things. We do ourselves a favor by not having blinders on when entering into a new relationship. When a red flag comes up, pay attention to it!

I have a saying I like to use often: We all have baggage; it’s all in how you carry it. Everyone has personality defects and idiosyncrasies; it’s a matter of how they match up – or not – with a potential partner. I am in constant observation of FP’s idiosyncrasies and personality defects as well as attempting to understand what his emotional capacity is in terms of previous relationships (aka, baggage). Up until the last few weeks, I’ve found no flaws. To be honest, I was somewhat relived to find that FP wasn’t perfect. This was a way to know that I wasn’t dreaming or blinded by emotions.

My desire to be with FP practically overrode everything else in my life. We had been seeing each other nearly every day. My stress at having to scramble to find work and his stress at having to care for his dying mother conspired to draw us both together, desperately grasping at each other in an attempt to confirm that there was something in this world other than our own troubles. I felt like a drowning person, holding on for dear life.

FP had been absolutely wonderful to me. He’s been great with the dogs, takes me out to dinner and does a lot of little things that show me he cares. He is very communicative about the state of our relationship, quite the opposite of most men. FP is also a great story-teller. He can weave a trip to the dentist into an entertaining story, full of adventure. He is an observer of people, and absorbs information about someone that most people would just forget. Mannerisms, accents, facial expressions – he gets a kick out of playing the weaving and bobbing movements of Captain Jack Sparrow in public, just to see me react. He can read my face in an instant, detecting the slightest mood change.

Early on, he expressed his concern about my safety, being a single woman in a small town. He would ensure that I kept my deadbolts locked, etc. Knowing I have two big black dogs that, despite looking big and scary, would rather greet an intruder than bite him or her, he offered me one of his pistols to keep at home just for protection. I had been raised in a family of police officers (father, uncle and grandfather and almost became one myself) and know my way around just about any firearm, but initially, I balked at this. It took a bit of cajoling on his part to get me to accept his assistance.

He would call before coming over to see if there was anything he could pick up at the store for me. He would often show up with a bag of goodies – wine, bottled water, rice (we both go through a lot of rice, and I cook it often for us), etc. He went over my yard with weed killer over a few weeks, because I got hit with a nasty case of poison oak rash. He would take out my trash. On the surface, this was wonderful, and I really appreciated it. But, over time, I began to feel resentful.

Even as I desired to be with FP, I became short of temper. His visits were tolerated; his stories became tedious and I would tell him to get to the point. He would ask me what I thought of this or that, and I would snap out an impatient – and often negative – answer. I became argumentative and contrary – it seemed to him that he could not say anything or do anything to make me happy. And, he was right. When he left after his visits, I would feel sullen and angry. I’m sure he felt confused as all hell.

One evening, we were sitting on the sofa, and after I had bitten his head off for an innocent question, he came right out and said, “I don’t like what’s happened recently and I don’t like the direction that this relationship is going. If you want out, just say so.”

{Insert sound effect of vinyl record being badly scratched}

Oh, my God! I thought to myself. What am I doing? I’m watching this man get ready to walk out the door and not come back. Guilt and shame burning on my face, I had to take a deep breath – and look inside me for the answer.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, per se. But, my reactions to his actions needed defining. I had to understand what was going on in my head to figure out how to fix this.

I realize now that it was my sense of independence that felt threatened.

About independence: I am fiercely independent, and since I was a kid, prided myself on being able to pick myself up by my bootstraps without anyone’s assistance, no matter the obstacle. This is a philosophy ingrained in me over a period of decades, so it’s not easy to relinquish any part of that to accept help from anyone. Although an admirable quality, you can call this a character flaw, because it can serve as a barrier in a relationship, as well.

I also tend to be impatient when exchanging information. After so many years on computers, I have come to understand that I am like one in some ways. I process information much faster than some (including FP), and I get frustrated when someone takes too long to get to the point. Another personality defect – potentially very damaging.

I had been subscribing to newsletters from a number of relationship experts, including Rori Raye, who has published a number of books and videos on making relationships work. I even purchased one of her videos, Modern Siren (I recommend at least getting her emails and/or reading her blog). I hadn’t looked at the video since my parting of ways with Frog Two, but I realized at that moment, as FP was looking at me with a mixture of hurt and anger on his face, that I needed to quickly dive into the knowledge I gained from those DVDs. If I did not resolve this, I was looking at yet another failed relationship.

It seemed like an eternity, but in the space of just a few seconds, I was able to figure out what was bothering me. I needed to tell FP in a way that was non-confrontational, yet expressed my feelings. I placed my hand over my heart, to ensure that I was speaking from my heart without accusing or blaming FP for anything, and taking a deep breath, I spoke.

I realized that I was beginning to feel stifled, smothered, I told him. His presence, although I felt I could not go without it, was beginning to feel suffocating. Unconsciously, I was pushing him away. I expressed my feelings, and tried to help him understand my own fierce sense of independence.

To my intense relief, he countered with an admission that he thought he might be smothering me a bit, but felt he could not help himself and wanted to do everything he could to help me. He wanted to be involved in the relationship. His first marriage encouraged that kind of ‘take charge’ behavior from him, as well as the caretaking of his mother. He said that it was like second nature to him to just do what he felt needed doing. And, his desire to see me overrode his thoughts that he might be smothering me.

Wow – a breakthrough, and it took almost no effort! He understood! He promised that he would back off on the smothering and automatically doing things for me. I promised that I would be more upfront about feeling smothered and have more patience with him telling stories.

But sometimes, information needs sharing – and without all the trips down interesting, yet unimportant side roads. Sometimes, he’ll go off in a direction that has nothing to do with what he was speaking about, and my patience (or lack thereof) in obtaining important information when necessary, gets a workout. He admitted that he tends to wander off on a tangent sometimes. I explained that it was like asking him to paint a door, but then he ends up painting the entire neighborhood. So, we have devised a loving way to get him back on track, if needed: “Paint the door, honey,” is all I need to say in order to get him back on point – and it works beautifully!

Since that day, we have gotten back on track in our relationship, and I’m feeling good about the direction we’re going. So does FP. I expect that there will be more disagreements, maybe a rehashing about being smothering or my impatience at getting to the point. But, I believe we have the tools to address issues such as this in a way that is not accusing or hurtful – if I can just keep myself from blurting my thoughts without thinking and feeling first.

More later,

~SA

100 Days

(Editor's note: This was originally posted in my journal on one of my dating sites on May 14, 2011. I didn't post it here at that time, because of certain timeline issues, but now feel that it's appropriate.  It's been slightly edited for clarity. JR: I have you to thank for the song mentioned.)

I am learning a lot of things about myself in this most recent period of dating (since I moved to NC in January). Things I had not taken into consideration before, but had been patently obvious. I have read websites, books, blogs and articles on dating and relationships, and each has its advice and wisdom. Some things I don’t agree with, but some things I have come to realize the truth of. For example, it takes time to determine whether a certain individual will make good relationship material. On the surface, it seems like a “duh” statement – but, I’ve seen too many folks (including myself) jumping right into a committed relationship without really getting to know each other.

My fear (and in my experience, the reality) is that what was first full of chemistry and a whole lotta lust will dull – and perhaps sour – in short order. I would not wish this on anyone, but having experienced this very phenomenon so many times, I have determined that I will not skip down that road blindly again. It’s not easy to resist the temptation of putting one's life on hold and making future plans concerning someone with whom after a few dates, seems so beautifully matched. But, recent experience tells me that I must resist. My heart is on the line, you see. This is why my Frog Prince will remain nameless until I am as sure as I can be concerning his long-term potential.

Some experts say that waiting at least 90 days or so before making a determination on the suitability of the object of your affection as a “keeper” may save one a great deal of pain and frustration. Which brings to mind a song I recently heard. Enjoy.

The Frog who Could be Prince

I am down to one current Pond resident. I had actually planned to slow the parade o’ frogs for a time, simply because dating in this way is exhausting and I just wanted to lay low for a while. Some folks have told me that as soon as one stops looking, the right one comes along. Who’d have thought that my experience would be that close to the mark? Who’d believe that this frog – the only remaining frog in my Pond – would just pop up on the radar by happenstance and actually end up with tons of Prince potential? Talk about serendipity!

Okay, so let me back up a little. Several weeks ago, on one of the online systems I use, this man had put my profile in his ‘favorites’ list. This is a common occurrence. Generally when that happens, most people once notified would simply not acknowledge it. My thinking is that the favorites setting isn’t just for the convenience of the person selecting the ‘favorite’ – it’s also for creating interest in the person having been selected as such. It can be used as a great opener for further communication. I choose to take advantage of such attention by checking out the man’s profile to see if there is some interest on my end. If I am interested (or even if I’m not), I will message the other person, thanking him for making my profile a ‘favorite.’

This was such a day. Once I was notified that my profile was selected as a favorite, I checked his profile. To be honest, I didn’t think we’d be such a match. His profile indicated that we had some things in common, but that there were some core differences. Plus, his profile said he was in the entertainment business and had been for more than 25 years. Nothing wrong with that, but what would I have in common with someone who does that sort of thing, I ask you? According to his pictures, he was very good-looking – almost too good-looking. My knee-jerk thought was, “Why the hell is he making my profile a favorite? He probably has tons of women groveling at his feet!” I initially had him pegged as a ‘player.’ Add to that, our philosophies seemed quite divergent. Oh, well, I thought to myself – I should at least be polite and acknowledge the action. So, I messaged him to say thank you. I do this for nearly everyone who makes my profile a ‘favorite,’ so this is not out of the ordinary. But, I don’t expect a reply. However, he did reply saying that he would love to meet up sometime. I replied positively in an non-committal way (I was truly getting tired of this string of “first-and-only” dates), but decided that if he openly asked for a meeting, I would comply. Well, sure enough, he did, and we communicated over the course of nearly a week to arrange a meeting over coffee.

I wasn’t optimistic in the least. To be honest, I determined that this frog would be the last to play in my pond for a while. I was simply tiring of playing this game and felt the need to hang up my lily pad to reset (perhaps just a couple of weeks, but I really needed a break). I had already hid some of my profiles on other systems in an effort to reduce the traffic of frogs jumping in and out of my pond. This particular system was to be among the last that on that list.

In a previous post, I had described my first date with Frog Eleven, and it was everything I claimed. We have since seen each other several times over the last month and it seems to be getting better and better. As it turns out, we have a lot of things in common, not the least of which is an affinity for dogs. And, those core things I thought were opposite of my own beliefs, turns out are not as far from my own philosophies, after all.

About Frog Eleven

Frog Eleven is polite, considerate and very, very charming. About 6’1” and 190 lbs, he is large and strong. In his prime he has weighed as much as 240 lbs, I’m told. A former owner of two fitness centers, he still has an athletic build, complete with broad shoulders and powerful arms and legs. His face shows a bit of careworn age, but when he smiles, the years seem to erase magically and a boyish look takes over. For an older man (he is almost 10 years my senior), I find him to be delightful eye candy. The hair on his head is not colored as I had once assumed; I noticed the gray sprinkled among the thick, sable brown locks once I got close enough. His strong Southern accent was difficult for me to adjust to at first, but has since grown on me. Bright blue, smiling eyes reflect his good humor. He has a calm demeanor that is somehow comforting when I am around him. He is friendly and social to everyone (from store clerk to maitre d') he comes in contact with. He is an equal-opportunity charmer!

He speaks little of his career in the entertainment business, but what he has told me is rather interesting – but not all that impressive. He’s actually semi-retired, and since moving to NC to care for his mother, he’s not been doing much work. It’s really not a big deal – he is far from the glitz and glamour of those in the A-list, although he has been known to attend gatherings of those on that list. I liken his career to those of most people in the entertainment industry – I would guess that 90 percent of them are small-time. He is among that group. Celebrity, for the most part, has never impressed me anyway, so it doesn’t matter what he does, in my opinion. I’ve rubbed shoulders with many high-profile figures, celebrities and politicos in my time, and discovered that they’re all human – just like us. To his credit, Frog Eleven shows all of the charm – and none of the ego or haughtiness – of some in that field of work.

During his first marriage, he raised Bulldogs (back then, they were called English Bulldogs). He understands and loves dogs, although he hasn’t had any for some time. We have talked at great length about this common interest, and have found we share the same philosophy on health issues, care and training. Thank goodness, no issues there! He was curious about my dogs, and interested in hearing about my plans for the future concerning them. He looks forward to attending dog shows with me.

He was soon given the opportunity to prove his feelings and philosophies about dogs. A couple of weeks ago, Merlin, my dog, appeared to have a back issue. Frightened, I made a same-day appointment with the local vet, but I was concerned about how to get him in the car. I had thought to call my girlfriend, who is smaller than I am – we would have a very hard time trying to get a 140-lb dog into my little car if he could not get up on his own. I made the decision to call Frog Eleven for help. To my surprise, he finished what he was doing as soon as he was able, and made his way over to my house. As luck would have it, Merlin began to improve by the time we took him to the vet, so physical help was not needed. However, I was very worried, so Frog Eleven went with me for moral support. He was just what the doctor ordered! His calm presence, as well as his arm placed protectively around my shoulder, was a balm and kept me from freaking out. Thankfully, Merlin’s issue was not orthopedic; he had a urinary tract infection. Antibiotics were all that was needed. I was relieved and happy and got lots of hugs from Frog Eleven. Afterward, he had the chance to interact with both dogs at my home, and Boston, my girl, is quite taken with him. The feeling is mutual, by my observation. He loves the dogs and they completely return the favor.

Since that day, Frog Eleven and I have seen each other frequently. Since he was the only frog in the Pond at the time, we were exclusive by default. However, recently, we have made the conscious decision that exclusivity is what we both want, and so we are going forward with that in mind.

Going Forward

Here, one might think that I will have nothing more to blog about, now. Wrong! Although it would seem that I have met my Prince, I have told him that I will not consider ourselves as being in a committed relationship for at least three months, perhaps longer. So, until we pass that marker, I will be blogging occasionally about how our relationship is developing. I am cautiously optimistic, but cautious all the same. I can only be myself. And hope.

So, now comes the dilemma: What should I call him now? Is he still Frog Eleven? Or, is he Potential Prince? Your input is welcome.

I’ll keep you posted,

SA

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