Response to comment (worst dating advice ever and why I took it)

Thanks, T; I agree. I'm in a much better place now to ignore bad dating advice, but I was particularly susceptible to it after my last breakup, because of the nature of the relationship and the guy. I was looking for answers, and the question was not "what went wrong" but "how did I let that relationship progress in the first place?" It was bad advice that got me into it and kept me there, and yet, it was also bad advice (as well as the bad relationship itself)--together for my own tendency to over-analyze and over-correct--that sabotaged me afterward.

Let's start with the last straw for both of us--one of the last straws: the wine tasting incident that I've told you about in passing. Leaving aside the whole passive-aggressiveness issue--that instead of just saying "no, I don't want to do that," his MO was, "sure, later" and then "later" to become never." Even before the relationship imploded, I was furious at how he handled the situation: why was I pulling teeth to go wine tasting? This was something that he said he actually wanted to do. Why was I even the one who had to suggest wine tasting, much less make it happen--I'd been asking this guy for most of the time we'd been together to come up with stuff for us to do, because I was sick of doing all the planning and organizing. I didn't mind paying for the wine-tasting, but I minded that I was the only one who ever came up with ideas. And now, i.e., then to be pulling teeth? Really? That was not the relationship I wanted to be in. When we broke up two weeks later, I was determined to never again get into another relationship where I had to be the man.

If you f* up at something enough, you should step back and see what you might want to do differently. So I immersed myself into relationship advice. And was much as I was relieved in my head that the relationship was over, I was also emotionally devastated. In a crisis of faith--my previous belief system had failed me--I was especially vulnerable when the preachers came along. I managed to tune a couple of preachers out directly--my mother and my well-meaning friend (wmf), but there was one whose gospel I bought into whole-heartedly.

Here's what she preached: of course men have devolved into man-children: women have spoiled them by chasing after them for too long. We've got to retrain men by letting them--no, training them--to be men. That means no asking them out, no calling them to follow up, and no planning in any way. They ask for your number, they call you, they pick the place, they call you again.

How appealing! If I'd done that, my last (disastrous) relationship would have ended before it began! Where had this preacher been all my life! This initiative thing was killing me, relationship-wise! It was time to step back. If I wanted to date a man with balls, I'd have to hide my own.

There's more: If the man asks you where you want to go, you tell him you're not comfortable deciding--that's his job. Oh, and if you have plans on the day and time he chooses, cancel them; you have to make time to date. It sounds extreme but you know she's right, because whatever you've been doing has not been working.

And--here's where she echoes mom and WMF--please tone down the brains! Men hate that shit. Not only do they not want to compete with you, but they don't need another business partner or coworker; they're after female companionship, not a female debate partner. A man cannot fall in love with you for your intellectual prowess or other prowess; he can only fall for your feminine qualities, your softness, etc.

I did not consciously buy into all that BS, but knew I could stand to take less initiative-- leave some for the guy. So I dated and practiced letting the guys do the planning. Oh, that was another big mistake that the genius preacher and WMF encouraged: date as much as possible. It only made me good at dating men I didn't care if I saw again. It did not train me in dating men I liked.

When I did meet someone I liked, I didn't know how to show interest. I kept creating space for him to keep making decisions, a la preacher woman's advice. Except it was unnatural, and instead of creating space, I gave him the impression that I wasn't interested in him, didn't have time for him. It was embarrassing. The other thing that went through my head was, "mom's right. I talk too much. I have too many opinions. This guy works with people who talk about ___ policy all day; why would he want to date someone who has strong opinions about ___ policy?" But that's just me. I have strong opinions; telling me not to have them is telling me not to be me. So mom's subtext is, a man can't like you for who you are. Actually, mom flat-out told me as much. The thing is, this guy liked me the first time around, when I wasn't afraid to be myself. When I expressed strong opinions about policy. So what possessed me to self-sabotage?

Now the dating fatigue has set in and I'm too tired to take bad advice, anyway: I'm too tired to pretend to be someone else; to not have opinions about policy or not express those opinions; to cater to dudes' fragile egos. And that's not the relationship I want to have any more than the relationship where I pull teeth to go wine tasting. All this bull$hit has left me too tired to care, but I have a lot of stamina, so I am very good at overcoming exhaustion when there's a worthy goal in sight. Which brings us back to where we started: could the guys please step up?