Sassy Lassie .net

Because relationships weren't complicated enough

My recent break-up has gotten me thinking about the way women should be treated in a relationships, and they ways we do -- or don't -- learn these things.  Conventional wisdom says you learn by example in early childhood by watching your parents.  Dad treats Mom with love and attention and respect?  That's what learn you expect from a mate.  Dad doesn't?  Well then, that is The Way Things Should Be.  Later you go out and choose partners who help you mirror that dynamic.  Of course, most of this is unconsciously adopted (who would think to themselves, "Gee?  I wanna choose someone who treats me like crap!"), which is why so often we grow up and land smack dab in the middle of the same relationship dynamics that we grew up with. 

So how can we (re)learn how a woman should be treated?

Fortunately, in my own quest I've found a good therapist who has help me recognize why I excused the inexcusable.  And I have great friends who have gently - but firmly - shown me what I should expect:

• They should speak with respect and admiration
• Smile when I walk in the room
• Take ownership of their actions, and be able to say "I'm sorry" when they're wrong.
• Open my door, and be gentlemanly
  
• Make me feel good about myself, and accept me for who I am
• Make me laugh, and find me funny, too
  
• Pay when we go out
• Make me a top priority
• Juggle their schedule to make time to see me
• Be nurturing
• Gladly carry the heavy things for me, because they can and it makes them feel useful
• Be responsible

While many of these things seem like they are just common sense...it has been surprising for me to discover that for me they haven't been.  Soon after I began dating again, I had a small disagreement with someone I was seeing casually.  He was in the wrong, and when I called him on it, he fessed up to it and said he was sorry.  But the biggest shock to me was that it was a BIG SHOCK to me.  I couldn't recall a relationship I'd had in recent memory where someone actually ACKNOWLEDGED that they were wrong and said "I'm sorry" to make amends without a lot of angst and teeth gnashing and defensiveness and back-and-forth.  The simplicity with which this apology happened was startling to me.  When I was relaying the events to my friend Kimberly, she blew my mind when she said, "This is what you should EXPECT.  Of course he should say "I'm sorry" when he's wrong.  You should EXPECT this."

Oh.

You can read all the books in the world and know intellectually what you should demand for yourself, but actually experiencing it? is a whole different ballgame.

Breaking up is hard to do

I had my very first boyfriend when I was 7 years old.   We would hold hands and talk and giggle during recess...which is pretty much all you do at 7 years old.  For my birthday he gave me a little silver jewelry box in the shape of a heart with red velvet lining...which I still have.  (!!)  We never really ended things -- I just moved away and that was that.   Ah, those were the days.

Actually, I've never broken up with anyone.  Ever.  Now, this doesn't mean that I never had a relationship end.  It just means that I seemed to always find myself in the position of being the dumpee, not the dumper.  I've spent many hours in therapy understanding why this is so, but suffice it to say that I tend to hang on to relationships long after their expiration dates have come and gone.  I seem to adopt the attitude "I'm am going to hang on to this damn thing and fix it if it kills me!" 

Thus, it was a very big deal for me when I decided I needed to break up with Bass Man. 

There was so much that was right about our relationship and that I loved about being with him.  But ultimately I knew it just wasn't the right fit, and that the relationship wasn't going to go the distance. I won't go in to the gritty details of why it became apparent that this needed to happen -- let's just say his priorities were a little skewed.  No amount of talking seemed to change things.  It was time to move on. 

I called my friend Erin for a pep-talk:

Erin:  "Go out for coffee.  Just tell him that you have different relationship styles, and it's not working for you.  Be prepared that he may try and talk you out of it, he may become defensive, but stick to your guns."

Me:  "That's brilliant!  Wait...let me get that down in my Treo..."

A few hours later I picked him up, we went out for coffee, and I chickened out for a good 45 minutes.  We sat there in Starbucks talking about other things.  I got up to go to the bathroom twice so I could look at my notes in my Treo and steel my nerves. 

Finally I realized no perfect time was going to come, and said, "Look, there's a conversation that we need to have that I really don't want to have..."  And I proceeded to say all the things Erin and I had gone over.  I tried to be as respectful and honest and gentle as possible.  It took him a little bit to understand that I was breaking up with him, and not just talking about an issue to be addressed.   He teared up.  I cried.  And cried. 

It was HARD.  SO MUCH HARDER than I ever thought it would be.  I guess it doesn't matter which side of breaking up you are on...it is painful and it sucks either way.  That was a shocker.  I somehow thought it would be easier being the initiator. 

Not so much. 

A week and a half later it still smarts.  He was my first "post-Ex" relationship, and though I didn't start writing about it until later here, we had been going out for a number of months.  I know I did the right thing.  But still...

I was talking to another friend the other day and telling her what happened, and she said, "You know, the gift in all of this is that you made a choice for yourself and realized you have a voice.  That's important."

I hadn't really thought of it that way.  I guess it is.

Yeah! ...What she said!

"In my opinion, the best thing you can do is to find a person who loves you for exactly who you are.  Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think that the sun shines out your ass.  That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with."
-- from the movie Juno  

When I heard that line, I thought "Yes! THAT is what I want. Exactly!" I know friends who have this.  I haven't had anything like it.  But regardless, I'm holding out hope that it exists out there for me.

And if you haven't seen this movie yet?  Run ye to your nearest theater and partake of it's lusciousness.  You won't be disappointed.

Three's the charm

For our third date, Bass Man and I were going to go to a club to listen to some jazz.  When we got there, it turned out there was a fundraiser going on and admission was really expensive.  We decided to adjust our plans and decided to go have dinner on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica instead.  We went to this little Italian restaurant and had a nice meal, went and got a nice toasty warm caffeinated beverage to go, and decided to walk around a bit.

It was a foggy night, with small halos of light from the streetlights straining to be seen through the mist.   We decided to walk down the Santa Monica Pier, and I was a little nervous because it was quiet, deserted, and pretty late at night.  Having lived in NYC for 6 years, I developed a finely-honed sense of street savvy to keep myself safe in a city filled with wackos.  Sensing my hesitation, Bass Man assured me we would be fine, that no one would mess with us, he was a big guy, not to worry, etc.  And as I looked at him I realized, "Wow.  He's right."  He has this quiet air of "You don't want to mess with me" about him.  And with his size, someone would have to be stupid to target him.  I've never really been with someone I felt safe with in this way before.

So -- we walked on the pier, with the ocean waves crashing below us.  No one bothered us, just as he predicted.  We sat on a bench and watched the lights of the famous Santa Monica ferris wheel twinkle in the distance through the thick fog.  It was all very romantic.  And I thought, "Surely he'll kiss me here.  It's such a romantic setting.  And if he doesn't, then it probably won't happen." But?   I held out for as long as I could, until I couldn't feel my fingers and toes.  I finally had to admit we needed to head back.

Had he kissed me?  NO.

Oh well.  We were walking back to the car.  We heard some good music coming from a little club as we passed by.  Both being musicians, we love that sort of thing, so I suggested we stop in and check it out for a few minutes.  We sat at a tall booth in back.  He was directly in front of me and as I was talking he just leaned in and kissed me.  It was one of the nicest, softest first kisses I've had, and it went on forever.  And ever.  I remember thinking, "Well now...THIS was worth waiting for."

We closed down the club at 1:30 am, and kissed in the elevator to get to the car.  We kissed in the front seat of his car in my driveway...for over an hour.  I finally went inside around 3am and thought of him as I fell asleep.

He's a really good kisser.

Second first date

Bass Man wanted to have a real first date, since he said our initial date was more of a meet-and-greet over coffee.  So for our "second first date" he took me out to sushi in Burbank.  It was nice, and we sat and talked for hours in the restaurant.  When they were closing, we finally took the hint and left, got a coffee, and proceeded to walk around downtown Burbank talking for another two hours.  I was cold, my hands were chilly even in my mittens...and I totally didn't care!   I was just enjoying talking to him.

Also?  I was surprised I was still awake, since I usually get super tired and turn in to a pumpkin around 10 or 11.  But here it was, waaaaay past my bedtime, and I was still going strong.  So naturally, in the wee hours of the morning we decided to go play some pool. 

I had visited Hearst Castle on my recent vacation last month, and was enamored by the billiards room there.  My guide told a story of how Carole Lombard was terrific at pool, and would win tons of money from the male visitors who underestimated her when she pretended not to know how to play.  She would claim she didn't know how to play, let them "teach" her the game, would slowly improve, then suggest "Do you want to make this interesting and put some lettuce on the table?"  They would take the bait, confidently plunk down their money, and then she would proceed to kick their butts.  When the next guy entered the room, they would then stand back, play dumb, and laugh when she suckered him the same way she suckered them.

I thought that was pretty cool, and decided I wanted to learn the game.  Bass Man said he happened to be pretty good at it, and offered to teach me.  When we got a table, I was surprised at A) what a patient, wonderful teacher he was, and B) how good he actually was at the game.   There's something about watching a man do something that he does exceptionally well that is quite the turn-on.   

We closed the place down at 2am (!!) and he drove me home.  He walked me to my door, we chatted for a few minutes...and then he gave me a hug and left.

Seriously?  No good-night kiss?  Whaaa?

New times, new rules

Getting back in to the dating scene has been challenging.  I find there are a whole new set of rules since I was last out there.  For instance, last time I was dating there was no internet.  No cell phones.  No texting.  No emailing.  No internet dating or matching sites.  It was the dark ages, people!  (And I'm not THAT old!!  Jeesh!)

With this new technology comes a whole new set of parameters to learn how to navigate.  It's been tricky.  How long do you wait to reply to an email?  To a text?  How much info do you reveal via technology?  You don't want to look desperate or over-eager, but you also don't want to seem uninterested either.   

There have been a few stumbles along the way, but on the whole I've been finding my sea legs with the whole thing.  I've dated a few guys casually, but ended things before they began to go somewhere because I could tell they weren't the right fit for me.  Which is what is so curious about Bass Man. 

Bass Man is completely different than the guys I usually go out with.  He's a bit rough around the edges.  He's a manly "guy guy," a beer and football kind of dude.  He's a big guy - not heavy, but tall and solid.  He's the first guy I've gone out with that I actually feel could protect me if someone tried to mug us.  And the best part?  He's creative.  AND responsible.  Good combination!  He is an anomaly in that he is a musician who plays the bass in a rock band, but also is gainfully employed as a computer guy a Major Entertainment Company.  I began talking to Bass Man on the phone, and we emailed and chatted for a few weeks before we actually met in person.  This isn't how I usually like to do things, but I met him while I was smack in the middle of the big push for my annual gala for work, and I literally had no time to meet up with him.  Then I was out of town for a few days soon afterwards.  In retrospect, I think this was a good thing since it allowed us to get to know each other better without any pressure.

When we finally did meet in person, I was pleasantly surprised.  He was a really handsome guy!  He had these endless blue eyes that a girl could get lost in, and a mop of curly brown hair.  He dressed well.  He had a really nice smile.

We went in to order coffee, and we were standing in line just a few minutes after we met when I felt something lightly brush across my chest.  I yelped loudly and jumped back, and the place got dead quiet as everyone stopped and stared.  An instant later I realized what it was I had felt brush across my chest -- MY OWN HAIR.  I felt like an idiot.  I just started laughing.  Bass Man was going, "Are you ok?  What happened?"  And here I am, not wanting to admit what a DORK I am, and so I just kept saying, "No, I'm fine.  Really.  It's ok."  ...And not really answering the question of what happened because I was too embarrassed.  Being the nice guy he is, he didn't press the matter.

In retrospect, I think it kind of broke the ice, though.  We ended up having a lovely date.   I liked the way he looked at me...attentively, smiling, interested.   It's been a long time since a man I was really interested in looked at me like that.  It was nice.  I got a big bear hug at the end of the date, and he asked me out again.  I said yes. 

I think I like him.

Looking back

I think the timing of this blog is interesting, since it was almost exactly a year ago that X. and decided to split up.  When I think of myself last year, I think of a gal who was scared, exhausted, in shock, relieved, hurt, prone to spontaneous bouts of crying, and worried for her future survival.  Everything was a big unknown.  I had to repeat the mantra, "I will survive this, I am strong" ...not really feeling that way, but hoping I could "fake it 'til I make it."

And you know what?  It kinda worked.

I think of how far I've come in that time, and all that has happened this past year.  If I could talk to the Me of one year ago, I would let her know that once she got through the holidays, she would begin to see how much better her life was without X.  I would tell her that not only would she get a great job in the field of her choosing, but that after a couple months of interviews, she would get three solid offers in the same week, and get to negotiate and choose between them.  I would tell her that her music career would take a huge leap forward.  That there would be more stress and betrayal then she could imagine, splashed with plenty of difficult times…but there would be lots of good times mixed in, too.  That she would start traveling again.  She would reconnect with old friends.  She would lose that damn stress weight she had been battling.  She would begin dating again, and actually enjoy it.  That she would discover for the first time in...oh, forever...that men actually found her attractive.  And TOLD her.  (Something X. never did.)  She would discover dancing and laughing and being silly and having fun and going out and inner-peace again - things that had been buried within for far too long during stretches of years of pain and unhappiness.

What a difference a year can make.