Mallory Rae's Blog

I haven’t touched on the subject on why I’m single yet, though I’ve heard many reasons to constitute:

• I’m too intimidating (a choice made my many)
• Too high/low expectations (low is apparently possible)
• I haven’t found Mr. Worth-It (parents’ personal fave)
• He’s just not within your region (personal fave of mine)

Whatever it may be, this doesn’t stop me from analyzing the hell out of it. Consistently. I’ve practically become a professional at it, really. After all, one whom can’t find a fault in themselves has found one already.

I’ve promised myself to be as personal as I can about this, so, here we go.

I have never, truly, honestly been in love. And the guys I’ve liked just weren’t what I needed, though I thought I certainly wanted.

I first diagnosed this to being that I hadn’t had a good relationship with my brother. I sought boys who were like him in hopes to come up with something, the love I couldn’t get from elsewhere. A Freudian approach that many of my friends agreed with. It made sense for those days. Growing up, I didn’t have the love from my brother than I wanted. We fought not just about fairness, but I distinctly remember overhearing a conversation/fight between himself and my mother. He was embarrassed  by the way I dressed (not with popular labels, but with awkward used clothes, things I made, and some outrageous items from Hot Topic). He said that everyone disliked me in school because I walked around as if I owned the world, as if I were better than anybody else. And he didn’t want to be in public with me. I had been wearing a favorite style of mine; a t-shirt with black arm warmers that extend on the hand over the fingers.

I don’t think it was to the point of sweatshirts having this option sewed into them yet.

I slowly made my way upstairs (I had been in the basement) after their chat. I went into my room and chose the most normal things from my closet. I had never been so aware of myself. But it was his Birthday.

I don’t remember my choice of clothing. I do remember there being awkwardness. I think I asked my mother if perhaps I shouldn’t go. My parents did stand up for me during his words, but it doesn’t make a kid wonder when you think a whole child population in town finds you a certain way.

Throughout our years, I wondered if my brother had ever stood up for me. Had he sat there and done nothing? Joined in? Told them to shut up?

My inability to have that relationship in the past with my brother, but wanting it so bad, made me like boys who were more like him. His sense of humor, way of looking at things… It was the typical relationship of the girl wanting to change the boy, which never works out. It wasn’t that I never had love from my brother, but it was a rare occasion if I got any feeling from him besides anger, irritation, or the streak of mischief.

Many people say that having high expectations of love means you’ll never find it, and it’s when you aren’t thinking of it in the least that it will hit you. But I wonder if any of this is true because I have never not thought of love, though I have sworn it off. Perhaps the fact that I have a loving family and many loving friends that I have the different outlook. In college, I am surrounded by people who are in love and “in love.” In fact, I’m the only single person on staff right now in my building.

The Too High of expectations has become my mantra of “I know what I want, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” This would work better if I were habitually having dates, but I stick to it.

This took many years (in my twenty-two on this earth) to come to terms with. Mainly because I do have a small list of things that I do require and look for when spotting a male, and I find them to be liable.

I need a respectful, good sense of humor, patient, healthy (this does not be perfectly fit, but I’d like him to have a good diet at least), hygienic, nice man who takes me for who I am with a well-balanced confident level (I like a man who knows what he wants and is willing to go for it). I have a lot of wants, which may turn into needs, but what I know I need is right there. I don’t feel this is too hard to ask for. But there are a lot of these guys out there hidden behind facades or have other qualities that I just can’t handle, or don’t believe I can handle.

To say the least, the expectations that help me find a guy also harm them as much, and not just because I determine the qualities. But they seem to be excuses not to date by now. Maybe the reason why I haven’t found Mr. Worth-It is because I’m actually afraid to meet him. Imagine, years of having these ideals and searching, then finally getting what I ask for. I damn well think that’s one of the scariest things that could happen to me (though possibly the happiest). Dreams coming true always are. It means you have something to lose.

And that’s why I like the idea of a man for me not being in my area. It’s even easier to believe when the expectations aren’t met. I can simply say, “Oh, he’s not here.” And I tend to compare guys to how my father is. Great work ethic, good morals, thoughtful… My mother says that I have to remember that my father has obviously grown since she met him, that their relationship has had twenty-six years to be in the position they are now, and that these things happen over time, not in the instant. This is my prejudice against guys, I guess, and perhaps my excuse. Why can’t more guys my age have these qualities? And why am I not willing to take the chance to see if they have them?

I have been burned, as many have, but it’s not as if I’ve ever been in an official relationship that goes beyond friendship. I’ve been offered only a few times to do so, and this was in my small school, when I could have cared less about love at that moment. A late bloomer added with ten years with the same people, and me being an uncaring outcast, didn’t bode well. I had my celebrity crushes, but I wasn’t ever attracted to the specimen that school had to offer.

When I did finally gather some feelings and hope, the men I usually liked turned to the girls who had to offer more–sex. Even the nice boy who was a best friend abandoned me for the girl who was willing to go all-the-way.

I suppose I should admit at this point that I get freaked out when a boy likes me. I think that the experiences with guys previous have made me perceive myself as someone that nobody wants because I’m not the girl anybody has ever wanted. As I have done with guys, I am a skewed vision in a man’s head of what they want, and I usually deter them from liking me anymore just to prove my point. And then I convince myself that if they had stuck around, then they truly had loved me, so we weren’t meant to be. But I’m not willing to do that for the other.

How messed up is that?

I may be exaggerating some points, and, in my defense, I don’t do this to every guy. But the fact that I’ve done it even once, to me, means I make my own demise. Given, there are many factors that could be added for every situation, but I guess I have to describe why I feel that I am not good enough.

I do love who I am. And I like being alone–for the most part. I do a lot of alone things, such as reading a writing, so it’s understandable that that introvert needs alone time. My parents say that I was the hardest to punish if I’d done something wrong because sending me to my room was completely fine for me. I’d read, write, draw… create. And it’s something I love about myself. I do get bored, but I’m never really bored, because I always have something I can do. I love my room, and feel comfortable in it. I love my interests, and the only wishes I have is that I had time to do even more things in my interests.

The older I get, the more comfortable I become with my body, as well. I think every person wishes something different about their body, but as long as I don’t go overkill on gaining weight, I’m okay with staying the way I am now.

But I’ve always been a different person from most people in my generation. I get this idea because of what people have told me, and my own drawn conclusions. I don’t get drunk every weekend, make out with random people (or ones I know), or even have a Facebook account. With this, it makes it harder to believe that someone will fit with me without me or the other changing, which I’m unwilling to do, and I don’t want to happen. I also believe that when someone likes me, I don’t think they understand the true me. I shake it off as an infatuation that they’ll get out of, not giving the chance to get to know me. I don’t want to have the hurt of them realizing this when I like them.

The conclusion I’m drawing by writing all of this is that I’m a coward when it comes to love, as it’s easier to not be in love in the first place. And since no one has contradicted me (not that it’s anybody’s fault), it must be truth. I mean, walking down a sidewalk doesn’t have the person passing by smiling when I smile at them in greeting. Stands reason to believe that the love I’m looking for doesn’t exist if common courtesy is gone, too.

Intimidation comes from the opinions of people who don’t know me well, the “first-impression.” Apparently, my brother was correct in some regards when it came to my Knowing-Who-I-Am Confidence. It doesn’t always come off as sugar and rainbows. However, I’ve come to terms with this because I’ve decided life is too short to waste time on things I don’t have to deal with. I am picky with my close friends because I won’t deal with mean, snarky, dramatic, disrespectful people if I don’t have to. I get that I will meet with them in life, but they don’t have to be my friends. Why subject myself to slander all the time when I can be and do what I really want?

I do this in many categories. If I don’t like something, I’ll do something about it if it really matters. Why more people don’t do this is beyond me. A lot more would certainly get done, in my opinion. And communication would certainly take a turn for the better. Society may even take a better turn if people saw that being a better person meant that they could be around better people, and then our world would be a population of better people. I guess everyone just has a different opinion of what a better person entails.

I’m getting off track.

When I asked people about what was intimidating about me, I got a some different responses. One friend said that she felt I was just such a good person that she thought I wouldn’t find her up to my standards and she’d have to constantly be a better person in my eyes to stay my friend–which is, of course, not so now that she knows me. Another said that I seemed to know what I want, and my opinion was quite strong in those regards and she could see that turning off a guy. Another friend told me I was ridiculous and to shut up because I was practically perfect and wouldn’t want any guy who couldn’t deal with a strong woman anyway. I actually got that last response more often than the other two.

It could certainly be that the issue is all of these choices and more on why I can’t seem to find love, or perhaps only one or two. After all, me finding out exactly what is wrong doesn’t mean it’ll all change. I have to be willing to do that myself.

I remember a time my senior year in high school when I hugged a boy. We were living in the dorms, and it was the first week of school. I was in my hugging prime, where I believed a good hug could change someones day. So when this boy said something to make me happy (I’m sure it was to the effect of liking the same music band I did; everything deserved a hug then), I leaped to wring my arms around him.

It took me a few seconds to realize he wasn’t hugging back, and I unwound myself to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t hug,” he said with a tight smile.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I felt a weird sense of horror come over me. I had considered myself no only conscious of others, but very caring and thoughtful as well, yet I’d gone completely over this boy’s boundaries to exceed what I had wanted: a way to show my affection.

I repeatedly said I was sorry, and he told me not to worry, but I never forgot that feeling–one of shame and slight panic at myself. Something I enjoyed most had been somewhat tainted by my own doing. It took me a long time to get back to a state where I could hug normally again, but I still feel hesitant with some people, and actually suppress the urge. I remind myself that not everyone is like me and that they may not enjoy my hugs.

I don’t find this to be his fault. But I do wonder what exactly had caused him to not like the feel of touch, or the many people I encounter who can’t stand it. I actually take pride in my hugs, perhaps more now than I did then. I love the compliments I receive on how great they are, and I still believe that a good hug can change someones day.

Leo Buscaglia from Love: What Life is All About says, “We need not be afraid to touch, to feel, to show emotion. The easiest thing in the world to be is what you are, what you feel. The hardest thing to be is what other people want you to be, but that’s the scene we are living in.” I’ve always thought it was harder to be yourself, with the pressure of society telling you otherwise. But the few times I’ve tried this, such as with suppressing my hugs, I wasn’t happy. I hated to have to consistently keep myself in check, and finally came to a balance, or at least a choice. After all, though I hated not hugging everyone, it is keeping a respect on their part. However, there is nothing wrong with asking them, either. I do still give spontaneous hugs, but usually to my closer friends.

Be that as it may, I am afraid of anything more intimate than that. The few situations that had a more cuddling scene, as precious to me as they were, don’t have the same luster it once had. They’re much too branded with the marks of getting burned. I’m afraid to delve further.

I’ve noticed this year that I am not in the least bit inclined to show any feeling beyond happiness and small adoration (in the positive aspect). For me, showing affection that could lead to more has now become taboo. I know I have the choice to make it otherwise, but I’ve now the notion that I will not make another mistake. I will not be used, misunderstood, or, in any shape or form, wrong in my next intimate relationship.

And that’s sad. I will not find love in  those terms. I will not thrive with rules that say, “This is what you can or cannot do.” I never have. And yet, I wrote them on a tablet in my mind. There’s some meter within my head that goes off when I’m too close to someone. I use my rationality to go the opposite direction, and we drift apart. Despite my perception of unconditional love, I don’t believe another has such. And I won’t take a chance to change it.

This is judgment on my part. I sometimes wonder what exactly I’m judging.

All you need is love.
The Beatles

When I hear this song, I hear truth. Because it’s true. When love is applied, anything is possible. Work. Play. Relationships. Going toward the greater good (and sometimes bad.)

However, I never really thought about the rules of love, the effects of “properly applied” love. Especially when I hear this song. It’s simple. All you need is love.

But no one loves the same, and it even varies from specie to specie (look at cats and dogs). Some people l say there is such a thing as “over loving,” which I believe to be completely untrue. A smothering love has a selfishness included, but that doesn’t mean it’s the love that is overwhelming. It isn’t as if there is a right or wrong love, either. It’s the showing of that love.

Of course, I am skimming the surface of issues–wrong love seems to obviously be a love of killing, or the love of pedophilia. I don’t feel I can really respond on that subject without proper research, which is time and money I don’t have in the least bit.

What i wish to speak on is how loveless our world seems to be. I say ’seems’ because it isn’t absent. Mothers, Fathers, children, friends, husband, wives… within the hatred we may hear/see from such relationships, there is much more love–we just don’t hear/see about it.

I once read in an article that it takes a customer seven good experiences at a restaurant to forget one bad one. I feel this can be applied to many situations. It’s unlikely for someone to enjoy another presence when they’ve had multiple bad experiences. I myself am very mistrustful of people, due to not just someones fault, but I also don’t trust myself to make a botch of things as I did in previous relationships (all friendships).

So, is this why in a world of crowds that we could be sharing and smiling, we instead avoid and ignore? I feel that we even ignore people because we are jealous. Jealous of their being so busy and unable to place an importance on the social aspect of our world, so busy that we turn on our MP3’s, look straight ahead, and stop paying attention to the world around us. We shut out the possibility of hello. We hide behind computers and say this kind of communication is acceptable with it’s impersonal nature because we can’t say our true feelings to the face of our everyday partners. We would rather place a comment on someones page to say hello than seek that person out to talk to them. We believe this is a convenience factor, not an insecurity.

How often has someone written a twitter or blog that seemed a direct hit at a certain someone, but no names were mentioned? Or maybe they were, but it was a complete shock because no one communicates?

As I’ve been taught with experiences in books, movies, and all relationships, love is meant to not only be unconditional, but also a responsibility. You not only hold your actions accountable, but to help keep your partners in line as well. When someone is going out of their way to take advantage of another, such as constantly asking for attention, but not giving it back, there are two responsibilities. One is for the person not receiving the attention to say something if they decide this is not okay. They tell the other, “You want me to give attention, but I need some as well.” After all, how is one to know another is not okay with this if we don’t say something? The person who forgets to give as much attention as she/he receives then has a responsibility–to not only hear the other person out, but to understand that, since love is unconditional, that doesn’t mean the other person should deal and comply with their wishes. The unconditional part is actually conditional. I don’t think anyone ever stops loving someone, but there is only so much someone can take before the way a love is given is unhealthy and selfish, a breeding ground for bad relationships. Love isn’t intended to be selfish, though it may seem that way.

Love isn’t as simple and easy as The Beatles place it when we start labeling it. However, just listening to the song, I find the simplicity. Because love is ultimately a choice. Thus why we hear/see so much hatred–how often do we choose love in our every day lives? And why isn’t it chosen more often?