When I decided to publish a book detailing some of my most personal moments, I knew I’d be creating some awkward situations for myself. It’s one thing to have friends know more about you, or for complete strangers to read about your life and learn some lessons while being entertained. But when a girl is just getting to know you intimately, books and blogs often spell trouble.

A big challenge is seeing girls projecting my stories onto our new relationships, before we have the chance to create stories of our own. Some of the things I’ve experienced include girls unfairly screaming at me because I don’t treat them the way I’ve treated other girls in my book; girls feeling less special when they read words from my personal vocabulary that have been used with others; accusations that I’m not even the same person that’s portrayed in my blogs and novel; a faster than normal attraction to me when girls feel they know who I am through my writing, forgetting (or not realizing) that I still need time to get to know them; frustrations from both sides when girls quote things I’ve written, or when I know they’ve read and misinterpreted something about me or my character, and I prefer to tell them to go back and read it again, rather than fight over things I feel they should(n’t) already know; intensity, intensity, and more intensity way too early in the relationship.

When we normally meet someone (whether through friends, a dating service, online, etc), both people have the opportunity to share pieces of their history and personality at their own pace, when comfortable or appropriate. With the blogs and novel, it’s like throwing back a dozen energy drinks at the same time: it feels like an incredible boost at first as you can do (or understand the good sides of someone) more, but when that low comes, it really hits hard, and it feels like I’m getting stabbed when my words from unrelated situations are used against me without sensitivity, especially when it’s by someone I hardly know.

It’s natural for a girl who’s interested in me to be curious about what I’ve done, and with the amount of time I spend behind the keyboard, it’s hard to hide my blogs and book for very long (that’s what I’ve started trying, but my most recent girl somehow found the blog on her own). There doesn’t seem to be much I can do about this, as I’m not about to stop writing. At the very least, it gives me more drama and stories to inspire further reflection..?

“I ran over to her and pulled her out of the line while turning her around and kissing her before saying, “I love you” (it was the only time I ever used those words with her).” (p.53)

“[11:57] she spit the ‘L’ word out today in reference to me
[11:58] yeah, it’s pretty quick to be saying that
[12:01] but i’ve heard the exact same words from so many girls in diverse  cultures and situations, and i think it meant something completely different to each one
[12:03] i’ve had women (not prostitutes) in africa and asia say it only minutes after meeting me, and it sometimes meant that they simply wanted to fuck (i’ve said it back knowing it was the password into their pants), while in other instances it was as serious as honestly wanting to marry me
[12:05] i can’t understand why people attach so much importance to hearing those three little words. i need to feel the sentiments, not talk about them (p.59, 60)

“You asked if it’s strange for you to finish your message with ‘love’: I don’t think it’s strange, but I’m curious to know what it means to you when you write that.” (p.87)

“I snuck online for a minute, just to say I love you.” (p.151)

“When we were apart, I think I started to say ‘I love you’ because it was obvious how important hearing those words was to you. You pointed out at dinner with your friends the other night that the concept of love is often more profound in the West, with a deeper feeling and significance attached to it than here.. (you don’t even have an equivalent word or phrase in the dictionary, using the same idea for liking/loving a person, or liking a piece of fruit). (p.240, 241)

“Every single day, I see new ways that we’re compatible as partners and human beings. I’ve never been so happy in such a well-rounded relationship: physical attraction, mental and intellectual attraction, creative attraction and respect, a commitment to grow together, fired by passion, desire and a strong feeling towards you that cannot be described with words. For me, maybe this is what it means to be, for the first time in my life, truly falling in love.” (p.241)

“As quickly as I was falling in love with you, I can now feel myself falling out.” (p.260)

“She said she thinks she likes me less. I asked since when. She maintained her feelings changed a couple weeks ago when we had our first fight. I asked her why then, only five days ago, did she tell me she loved me. She said she did love me (a week after the fight) but doesn’t now, and she wasn’t completely sure of her feelings when she said it either.” (p.281)

In the comments to my post entitled “there’s nothing more human than feelings“, Mire challenges my qualifications/ability to write about love and relationships, because, to paraphrase, she felt that I was incapable of clearly defining what love has meant to me, and that the feeling of love seems to be a missing ingredient in my analytical posts.

This challenge lead to some great conversation, and I spent a lot of time trying to clarify her questions in my mind (it’s always easier to do when you’re not in an emotional state). In the end, after reflecting on all of my intimate relationships, all of the confusion that comes with different cultures, desires, expectations, indecision, etc, I recognized that I have never used the words ‘I love you’ as an adult to express my own feelings; any time I’ve said it, it was because my partner had defined their meaning of the words for me, and I was using it based on their understanding of what it meant (aside from a couple times when it may have slipped out unexpectedly during an emotional, nostalgic moment).

The last three novel excerpts posted above are somewhat symbolic of what I will call my personal definition of love. For me, it’s not an individual’s feeling, but a feeling shared between two people. It should run deeper than the infatuation, the lust, and the uncontrollable emotional attachments that must also be there (but cannot be defined with words). And it must not be clouded with constant doubt:

When I one day meet someone and we can imagine ourselves spending our lives with each other; when we feel we can be accepted by each other for who we are; when we start to realize our potential by compromising and accepting a unified vision for our future, while both of us are working actively to make ourselves and each other happy;  and when we are genuinely happy together; I can envision myself having an ultimate sense of peace and unity as a couple, that I would call love.

I have never experienced that type of certainty in a relationship, and once I find it, I don’t see why I would ever want to give it up.

To start, I have to say that if I could re-write the thoughts I was expressing above, I would replace the words ‘weak’ and ‘strong’, which seem a bit too harsh, with ‘self-confident’ and ‘self-conscious’ or ‘insecure’.

In my ‘instinct‘ comments, Mary follows up my post on the impact of our initial impressions of a person by saying that it’s our “first feeling that will determine our behaviour toward the person and thus, the relationship to follow.” For me, that first impression will certainly reveal any attraction, chemistry and interest, but before I can foresee a future with someone, I need time to figure out if the person is self-confident or insecure.

To do that, I need to see and hear the person interacting with others after I’ve had a conversation and felt some type of ‘click’: does she have that same sparkle in her eye with everyone, or was it exclusive to me; if it is there with others, does it get bigger as more attention is showered on her, or does it come as a result of a passion for the things she’s talking about, which can’t be hidden? These observations let me put my own first impression into context, and replace (at least a small amount of) any infatuation I may have had with a healthier dose of reality.

Beyond the above point, any other specific examples I give may end up sounding superficial, as my mind tends to be gravitating to the most extreme situations of a self-confident or self-conscious person. In reality, we all have aspects of our lives where we feel super confident, strong, and in control, while other situations leave us feeling vulnerable, self-conscious, and even weak; this is a normal part of living, and not something that should be used to judge someone and determine whether we want to be with them in the first minutes or days of knowing them.

What does help me decide whether or not to get involved with someone, is as I get to know them, do I feel that they’re generally comfortable in their own skin, maybe even comfortable with their vulnerabilities and whatever baggage they may be carrying, or do they continue to dwell on the tough breaks and heartaches they’ve gone through (or try to mask them with a superficial skin that won’t fool anyone in the long run), rather than try to work through the challenges by focusing their energy on new positive experiences; not hiding high and low moments, but sharing them openly at the opportune time (which in a young relationship, is usually when we’re calm, rather than emotional or intimate). If not, the lows usually come out in the worst of ways, and are more evident than if they weren’t locked up inside.

To be able to do that, admitting that we’re not perfect rather than trying to impress, is something that exudes self-confidence, in my opinion, and when two people can find each other in that same state of mind, there’s a better chance for insecurities to lose their fight to destroy the best we have to offer, and for us to truly get to know the person we’re interested in.

In my ‘dirty girl dilemma‘ post, ‘Dee Licious’ says that she can “generally know in the first 15 minutes of meeting” someone if she is interested in having a relationship with them. To some, this may seem a bit quick to be making such a conclusion, almost as if we are being judged before we have the chance to get to know the other person. But from another perspective, I completely agree that our gut feeling about a person or situation is often more sensible than the other forces that may guide our decisions (such as physical attraction, horniness, loneliness, or peer pressure/influence).

In Not All Men Are Monsters, one of the biggest questions I ask myself is whether I was wrong in the past to have trusted my early perceptions of the people I was involved with (and if this was the reason I had not been in any ‘normal’ relationships that endured). I contemplated the idea that I had maybe not tried enough to make past situations work when I saw what I thought to be an irreparable road block in the relationship, and that if I had given more time and effort, these differences may have been overcome. Investigating that single set of doubt in me is what lead to the experiences, self-reflection, pain, and growth that’s been intimately shared as a novel.

When we look back on all of our relationships, we (hopefully) see that each one had a unique set of circumstances and chemistry, and almost always in my case, I’ve had ethnic/cultural (mis)understandings and traditions adding yet another layer to the process of getting to know someone. Still, in almost every intimate relationship that didn’t work out, I can honestly say that my initial reservations were validated as I got to know the other person better, and to have denied my instincts would have meant lying to myself.

For me, I think those first fifteen minutes (or more) of conversation with someone can tell us a lot about our personalities and compatibilities, and listening to that little voice telling us whether something is wrong or right is much better than ignoring it, and maybe trying to force something to work unnaturally.

It may take longer to be certain, but I do believe that the faster we share those doubts, whether they’re small incompatibilities or fundamental differences in values or ways of living, the less heartache (and headaches) we’ll have, and the better our chances of transforming whatever chemistry is there into something that can continue platonically as friends.

I’ve had some incredible replies to my ‘new relationships‘ and ‘feelings‘ posts, and the original messages have been taken in so many different, important, and interlinked directions, that it’s hard to follow up with one clear idea. So for this post, I’ll start out with a number of thoughts in point form, that (hopefully) come together with a clear statement.

Before continuing, I really recommend going back to read all the comments in the posts mentioned above, as they are often longer than my original messages:

- Commitment is not in the words (saying I’m committed or not committed), it’s linked with our actions.

- Being suspicious, not trusting someone, trying to protect ourselves from being hurt; these emotions early on usually come from past experiences, not the person we’ve just met, but when we project them onto our new partner, we judge them, confuse them, and create a sense of insecurity.

- It’s very hard to do, but if we know that there is something holding us back from committing certain things, it’s better to let our partner know honestly, rather than pretend the problem isn’t there. And if we do want to get to know someone, we shouldn’t mask our interest by pushing them away.

- We’re more likely to understand the blunt truth, no matter how revealing or hurtful it may be. A partner who repeatedly confuses with indirect statements and detours in the early stages of a relationship is actually pushing the other person away, rather than attracting them.

- When we barely know someone, the challenges they create for a healthy relationship may not be worth the fight. We need time to get to know someone, and find out if we’re compatible, and this is a very important first stage of commitment, without too much pressure put on long-term securities.

- We often ask others to give what we our not willing to give ourselves, whether it’s time, dedication, emotional involvement, physical pleasures; we need to be willing to equally give what we want to receive.

This may all sound sensible, but how often do we actually do the sensible thing? I’ll leave these ideas open for comments, before continuing with this subject (and how it plays a central theme in my novel,) in commitment part 2..

In my ‘feelings: why do women lie‘ post and comments, we see how many different thoughts and ideas can be affecting a woman’s words when she may tell her partner that she doesn’t want to continue the relationship (we’re not talking here about somebody spitting out those types of words in a fit of rage during an argument, but about a constant, confusing message of non-interest in the early stages of a relationship). In my ‘fu¢k-buddies and nothing more?‘ post, we see how difficult it can be for women to stop their emotions and feelings from changing when they get involved in a strictly physical relationship with someone.  And when it comes to men’s feelings, we see that they are more capable of controlling their emotions; what often determines how open we leave ourselves is the definition a relationship is given from the onset.

In my experiences, I’ve found that women often need to create a verbal definition of a relationship very early on: ‘it’s just sex’; ‘I’m not looking for anything serious’; ‘I’m really into you and want to know where this is going’; ‘I don’t care about you, stop wasting my time’; ‘I just want to be friends’; etc.

I try to remain open minded and not put too much emphasis on these definitions, but for many guys, when a woman tells us what she wants from us, we try to give that, and only that to her; if she changes her mind a week or a month later after really getting to know us, and wants to redefine the relationship, it may be a struggle for us to change course after going in with a different mindset, and we may even feel betrayed.

Defining a relationship in its early stages creates limitations, not clarity. For me, I think it’s very important not to try to control or suppress our feelings, but to state clearly that we are interested in someone, and need time together to get to know each other, enjoy the company, and see where the chemistry and compatibility leads. This type of honesty allows a guy to open up his emotional side to his partner without worrying that he’s breaking any rules, and women can feel more comfortable letting their partner know how their feelings are changing, without having to mask them with defense mechanisms; emotional interaction can become a real conversation, rather than being left at the mercy of insecurities.

In theory, this makes a lot of sense to me, but in practice, it usually creates a lot of drama, as both men and women aren’t used to being so open about their feelings and needs, preferring to hide them behind a predefined label. But what do you think? Can jointly defining a new relationship as a connection worth exploring (and then giving ourselves time to explore it with an open mind) allow honesty to conquer confusion and disappointment, and help a relationship endure?

I know that many people are going to ask why I’ve singled out women in the title of this post, and the reason is simple: generally speaking, men are usually more direct and literal when they speak, while women often try to express their feelings in a roundabout way that can confuse men.

Many guys will take a woman’s words literally when she says she doesn’t care about him, or that things can’t work, rather than realize he needs to try to read into the emotion behind the words, and be supportive to find the real root of her confusion.

So why is it that women sometimes confuse things in important, emotional moments, by saying the opposite of what they really feel? One reason may be uncertainty, which leads to insecurity: if a woman is unsure of her partner’s feelings for her, she may try to provoke him to express them. But being afraid to let her own feelings be known (which may in fact encourage him to be honest), she may create an unsubstantiated argument, in an effort to get him to share more (without linking her feelings to the real issue): if he cares about me, his disagreement will tell me so; if he doesn’t care, he’ll walk away without me showing my vulnerable side.

This type of strategy works against men’s way of thinking, and will usually create a lot of confusion. Guys usually like looking for solutions to problems, but if we’re told that someone has no feelings for us, that’s a very conclusive statement; the only logical solution (if we take the words literally) is to give up and move on, rather than try to work through challenges.

Women who are used to being deflective about their feelings may have difficulty believing or trusting a guy who is upfront and honest about his feelings (thinking he’s lying about them, in the same way she’s used to doing), and at the same time, she won’t be happy if he doesn’t share his feelings openly. So what’s a guy supposed to do?

For me, I know it helps me get out of the ‘look for solutions’ mindset, and into the ‘listen and try to understand where this is coming from’ mentality, if my partner starts off by asking me to be quiet and just listen. That one small sentence makes all the difference, as I’m not caught off guard arguing about something that I never knew was an issue, and I instantly know that I need to be supportive and communicative, rather than quick to provide an answer.

It’s much easier to communicate when we talk openly about the real feelings and issues at hand. Dishonesty leads to disappointment, especially if it supports insecurities our partners may have, rather than building confidence in their positive sentiments. So the next time you see yourself making definitive statements that aren’t from the heart, apologize, and think about talking honestly about whatever’s bothering you; you’ll be surprised by how much better honesty alone can make you feel.

“A good friend pointed out yesterday that my strong personality and confident vision mixed with the passion I display when doing things will often be attractive to the people I meet, and make them feel special without me trying to do so. The attention and interest I show can make feelings seem very intense for others.” (p. 42)

I admit it: I’m an extremely passionate person! It doesn’t matter if it’s a plate of food, a painting on the wall, a sports event, or a person I’m meeting for the first or the thousandth time; when I’m interested in something (or someone), I put a lot of energy and enthusiasm into it.

This can create problems when meeting someone new: not only can someone I’m interested in platonically mistake this excitement as a personal interest in them; but when I am interested or involved with someone romantically, they can mistake this passion as a desire or attempt to advance the relationship very quickly, despite my verbal or written expression of the opposite.

It’s really frustrating to be in such a position (I’ve been on the other side a number of times too, and now I try to observe energetic individuals’ interactions with other people before creating any ideas that the feeling is specifically directed to me). I don’t like the unnatural idea of muting my personality for the sake of those who may misinterpret it, nor do I think I should have to preface every new encounter, paranoid that others may become overwhelmed. But the intense and misleading conversations that can result from misunderstandings are also extremely exhausting.

What do you think? In order to give people time to ‘know’ us, should we hold back and not be our enthusiastic selves when meeting someone new?

“I started relating this theme to us: we both want to have fun together, but we haven’t often been able to. A big reason for this is because you aren’t able to say ‘yes’ to a lot of things right now, even if you want to; you’ve been too tired, and you’re super committed to your work, causing you to work late and often on weekends. And of course you have a thing for always wanting to control decisions, preventing me from organizing anything.” (p. 403)

I get a lot of messages from friends and fans wishing they had the freedom to enjoy life and travel the way I do. When I’m out and about, I’m trying to mix in with the local life: I create opportunities to work, learn, teach, and simply have fun, by finding local cultural and social events, and the chance to interact with people. I visit parks. I go to markets. I chat, rather than rush from one place to the next. What so many people fail to see is that I (and they) could just as easily find this aspect of freedom in their towns; we often turn our back on simple pleasures in our everyday lives, because we don’t take the time to accept and appreciate the opportunities that are sitting in front of us.

When we start a relationship with someone new, we’re often hyper sensitive to every little detail, every little gesture, and we like to take advantage of every opportunity to do something fun. So why, as we become comfortable with someone, do we sometimes stop making that same effort to dress up; to ask them to go for a simple walk in the park; to enjoy an ice cream; to meet up with friends for dinner; to go out to a cinema or show rather than watch a dvd? Work or television can usually wait another day, but if we continually make excuses not to do things with the people we care about, they may eventually stop trying to convince us to join them in their enjoyment of life.

Getting out leads to opportunity, no matter where we may be. The only thing holding us back is our own lack of effort or motivation. So the next time you think about saying ‘No’ or ‘I don’t know’ to an invitation at home, imagine it as you would an exotic adventure in a faraway land, and don’t hesitate to say yes.

In a comment conversation about forgiving, Wildcherries talks about having sought out revenge in the heat of the moment, by doing something to hurt the person who had hurt her: almost immediately, she started to feel guilty, rather than feeling any sense of relief.

I think it’s very natural to have an urge to retaliate when someone does wrong to us; it’s our animal insticts that want to protect us from harm. But as human beings, we are much more capable of hurting one another with words and actions than animals are, and fighting back with physical strength and/or words does not protect our hearts. As Wildcherries says, it’s probably much more satisfying to imagine all the ways we could get back at someone if we were that type of person, and not doing something we may later regret makes us bigger and stronger in the end.

The guilt we feel after retaliating is just as natural as the urge to do it in the first place, because we are taught values from an early age, and revenge has nothing but negative connotations: to inflict punishment for injury or insult; to seek or take vengeance for; spite or vindictiveness; payback – not a healthy set of words (and if you read my definition of forgiving, you’ll see that revenge is its antithesis).

There is, however, a small positive that can be taken out of one of revenge’s synonyms: retribution is not only defined as being punished (or punishing someone) for something, but it can also mean receiving a reward in recompense.

This is what I’m talking about when I say that I’ve taken the negatives and unfortunates in my life, and instead of building up spite and bitterness, I try to learn from the situations. The reward for going through something difficult comes when we let go of it as a negative experience, and see it as part of our personal growth and evolution in life. That positive energy, combined with better awareness, will hopefully leave us open to receive better circumstances the next time around.

If we look at the quote from my novel that starts this post, we can all probably think of someone who started seeing someone they weren’t interested in, just to hurt an ex they still had feelings for, hoping to get a reaction, or even win them back. But the chances of a relationship built on this pretense bringing any happiness to someone is slim, and by toying with somebody else, we are compounding our problems instead of dealing with them.

But if we take that same quote, and we think of someone who got over the pain of a relationship that didn’t work out, who stopped looking to hurt someone else, and put that effort into making themself happy again, we can look up to this person as a source of inspiration and strength, imagine ourselves wanting to be (or be with) them, and undertand that the faster we focus on the positives of our experiences, the faster we are likely to find more of them.