Auntie Seraphic and Trying to be Sensible

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

Your blog has become part of my daily fare--it sure helps a lot with the singles blues! Also, I've ordered your "Ceremony of Innocence" and eagerly await it's arrival!

I've written to you before, and received words of wisdom--which encourages me to ask again, in hopes of the same.

Last summer I met a Awfully Nice Catholic Man [online]. Now, I have very strong reservations against such sites...but my circumstances are such that I very rarely have the opportunity to meet young men.

After about a month of experiencing the craziness of the online "scene", this young man wrote to me. I corresponded with him in a desultory fashion, and then, suddenly, I realized that I liked him! He was intelligent, and funny, and manly, and sweet, and it seemed to me that we spoke the same language--I got his jokes, and he got mine, and it was nice. Also, he was very clear. He said that he liked my profile, that he wanted to keep corresponding, that he'd like to ask me out, if only he didn't live [MANY] miles away.

When this correspondence started, he was on vacation, preparatory to beginning [a new job]. All in all, we had (sort of) known each other for about six weeks, and had been writing pretty regularly, and it was sort of getting to the point where we would have needed to talk about arranging to meet in person, if we were going to keep being so interested in each other. Then one day, after a short lag in correspondence, he wrote a rather dejected-sounding note to the effect that he was very sorry and sad, but that he wanted to ask to put our correspondence on hold. He had started [work] some weeks previously, and he said that work-load was steadily increasing to the point that he simply couldn't give the time and attention to growing our friendship that he would like to until X; that it wouldn't be respectful or fair to me; and that he hoped I could understand and forgive him.

Well, I believed (and do believe) him, of course. I understand from women who have tried to date [men in his profession] that it is simply horrific, the way they have to work....they basically turn into zombies. So, though I felt terrible, I wrote at once, telling him that I quite understood, that there was nothing for me to forgive, and that I very much appreciated him being decisive and honest. I also said that if he wrote in X time I'd of course be happy to hear from him, and to pick up our correspondence, unless I should happen to be dating someone else, of course. I said that so he'd be sure to understand that I wasn't going to be spending [all that time] waiting and mooning over him when he wasn't there.

Then I felt AWFUL. I felt like I'd just told him I didn't care how he felt, and that I'd be perfectly happy to go off and date somebody else, while there was nothing he could do about it. So I wrote again and asked if he would call me, which he did. Well, all I really had to tell him was that I wanted him to know that I was sad, too, and that just because I understood didn't mean it was easy. He was very kind, and said sure, he understood, and all that. And then he sounded kind of worried, and said there were to be no promises. "Of course not!" I said, because really, it would be very silly for either of us to make any kind of commitment based on a six-week correspondence; it was perfectly clear to me that he had no right to ask me to wait for him, and I have no right to expect him to write back in a year and want to date me.

So that was that. We talked for five minutes, and said good-bye, very calmly and sensibly.

And oh, how sensible I determined to be! I wasn't going to think about him! I wasn't going to wait for him, at all! I was going to be very determinedly happy, and make the absolute most of the single life! Anyhow, I [kept busy, with new interests.} I also re-committed to frequent Adoration.....

But, O Seraphic, it is SO HARD to persevere in these good intentions!! I find myself dreaming even during Adoration about how soon he might write back, and what he might say, and then what I might say.... Also, this little clock is ticking in my head saying "X days down, Y hundred and sixty-five to go....etc." Even though I decided to stay on the dating website in order to help me consider myself free and single (which I am, obviously, even though I like this guy!) I find that I'm not interested in the men who write to me, and keep unfairly comparing them to him.....

The rational part of me is saying, "People forget. X is a long time. There are NO PROMISES!!! I need to be okay with it if I never hear from him again! I also need to be okay with it if we end up being friends someday, but not dating! He is under NO OBLIGATION to me, nor I to him. In X time, no matter what happens to my heart, there's no reason why I shouldn't have [achieved some great goals.]

My mother says, very briskly, "Forget him! He's not interested!"--but I am pretty sure that she is just saying that because she doesn't want me to get hurt. The thing is, I don't believe that it's TRUE; and I find I cannot believe untrue things simply as a maneuver to not get hurt.... I don't have crushes very often, and I'm always doubtful about whether a man likes me--but not this time. Deep down, I feel absolutely sure that this guy is good, and honest, and truly interested. I couldn't doubt this if I tried, and actually, I did try. But the thing is, he seems like a kind and honorable man, and I am certain that if he just weren't interested, he would have said so, gently and kindly. I cannot believe that he would create an impression that would encourage a woman to hope when he was really trying to let her down easy. I think some men might, but I don't think he would.

Meanwhile, my brother, whose advice in these matters I greatly respect, tells me that it would be fine for me to send this guy an occasional postcard or fun little note, to encourage him during what must be a very difficult time for him. "If it really was mutual, and you really want it to go somewhere, it's okay to show a little ankle!" says my brother. "Don't be scared about seeming needy and being rejected. It's not needy if you only write every couple of months; it's encouraging. He'll be really happy that you thought of him--I would, if I were him." (Up to this point I have not contacted him in any way whatsoever since our last talk). Am I being rigid by holding off? Am I going too in my adherence to the "No call, no response" rule? I mean, after all, he was very clear about liking me!

I see my brother's point, but I also feel like it's important to take this man at his word. He said he liked me. He knows how to contact me. Shouldn't I be able to leave it at that? As much as I truly do want to write him little notes and things, I think I want even more to be validated in that gut-feeling of mine that he really cared, that he cared enough to remember me, and to contact me again when he felt free to do so--without needing hints and reminders from me. Unless and until he asks me to date him, I feel that it is not my business to cheer him up. Also, maybe I'm a little more reluctant because he felt like he needed to SAY "no promises". It makes me worry, just a little bit, that he might have thought it was needy of me to want to talk on the phone (even though I don't really regret it, because it really helped me to get over the initial disappointment.)

Any advice, Seraphic, for getting through this time without going crazy--and for not going crazy if, after all of that he doesn't ever contact me again? And DO you think it's okay to send the occasional postcard, and maybe a Christmas card?

Many thanks!
Trying to Be Sensible



Dear Trying to Be Sensible,

First, I have to say that this situation sucks, and I think you may be in the psychological position of a woman who actually dated a great guy...for six weeks before he dumped her, saying "I'm too busy for a relationship." They say you get to grieve a month for every year of a relationship, so you get six whole days from the day you accept that it is over.

My opinion is with your mother on this one, and I don't know where your brother is getting this "show a little ankle" stuff. That option got torpedoed when you called up [Mr Wonderful] and told him how sad you were to lose him. I think it is over--and it WAS a thing: even if you never met in person, it WAS a thing--because of three things he did: 1. he asked you to stop writing to him, 2. he asked that he hoped you could understand and forgive him & 3. he made that panicky "no promises" remark.

You are in an agonized purgatorial state at the moment, full of day-dreaming about what could be, but fear might never be, and although it will hurt horribly to accept that it is over, you will at least be able to move on. I speak as someone who has gone through several break-ups and crushes that went on for years before I got the message. I know it will hurt, and I know the hurt will end.

I suspect you're hanging on to that "his [current duty at work] is so awful--he'll want me back in his life when it's over" thought. But the thing is, unless my memory is mistaken, [someone now in my family] was [in similar circumstances] for most of the first year she was dating [someone else in my family]. She lived five hours away from him, seven by bus. And they made it work. So although I know that [such work] is tough, I don't buy that it is in itself a relationship killer.

Personally I think he is a dummy for not wanting to keep in touch with a great Catholic girl--a weekly email wouldn't kill him. On the other hand, maybe he is already dating a fellow [worker]. You have no way of knowing. The thing is, you deserve the kind of guy who MAKES time for you, in whatever way he can, because he would go crazy if he didn't. Guys who are sent to the THEATRE OF WAR write to their sweethearts that only reading their messages and writing back to them keeps them sane. You also deserve the kind of guy who wants to meet you in person and spend some time with you and MAKES IT ALL HAPPEN. You DON'T deserve a guy who tells you that corresponding with you is an intolerable burden.

We all have vague ideas in our mind of who Prince Charming is. Maybe he's a fantastic writer of emails, or has a great sense of humour, or is astonishingly bright, hardworking and ambitious. Maybe he looks like a Croatian male supermodel. But there is no guy like the guy a girl thinks is fun, bright, hardworking AND wants her in his life. There's no substitute for the feeling that a guy would quit a job or pass up Christmas with his family or do basically anything to be with you.

And this is not likely to happen with a guy you know only through the internet. [I have friends] who met through the internet, and agreed that they should meet as soon as possible. They lived in the same town, so they met up and discovered that they really liked each other in person. In contrast, my friend E met a guy she flirted with happily over email and discovered she was NOT attracted to him in person. And in my case, I never took my husband's internet flirtation--which was very sporadic--seriously. I thought he was clever and funny and not the male model I deserved. It wasn't until we actually met in person that I allowed myself to think seriously that we could get involved.

I didn't daydream. And the problem with the internet is that it encourages daydreams, and those daydreams become a trap, a drug and ultimately a prison. But I encourage you to indulge in one last, final daydream: the break-up daydream. Go through a ritual in which you say "Good-bye" to your daydream version of him; maybe even write a never-to-be-sent pen-and-ink letter and then burn it and let the wind carry the ashes away. And then tell your mother and whoever else that you have mentally broken up with him. And then call up a girlfriend or two or (best) three, and ask them to drag you out for a "post break-up girls night."

So, in the cold light of reflection, don't send that Christmas card. You never really met, after all, and you owe him exactly nothing. Don't give him any more of your imagination or time. And for what it's worth, he was a coward to blame his decision to end it on his work.

Please feel free to share this email with your mother and/or your friends, if you like. Tough talk is better shared.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

To everyone wondering how I can just stuff my reader's hopes about Mr Wonderful in the trash can, it's because Mr Wonderful, despite his ham-fisted attempt to "let her down easy" by blaming work and saying "on hold" instead of "no more", said "Please forgive me" and ESPECIALLY (in a panic so palpable my honest reader heard it and mentioned it to me) "No promises".

Your fellow reader, being a generous soul, told him that "there was nothing to forgive." But I think Mr Wonderful knew better. In my experience, men hate apologizing and only do so when they are darned sure they have something to apologize for. In this case it was pulling a plug on a fun and flirty online friendship he initiated. Like so many guys on the internet, he enjoyed the sexy intellectual thrills of corresponding with a witty lady when he was in no position to meet her in person. And this, dear poppets, is yet another reason why I can't stand dating sites.

Incidentally, Eavesdroppers should know that I don't doubt this guy really did feel regretful and misses the kick he got out of getting emails from a pretty girl--unless he's already involved with another pretty girl. Oh, Eavesdroppers, Eavesdroppers! What a tangled web you weave. Well, maybe not you. I am sure you are very open and up front and clear about your intentions and prudent in your correspondence, etc.

Auntier Seraphic & Fair Chance

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

First of all, thank you so much for your blog! Love it! It's a breath of fresh air sometimes.

So here's the deal:

Small school, Christian student body. Most students take dating fairly seriously- as something that should lead to marriage. (Hence- "ring by spring") While this is quite an appropriate outlook, it seriously hampers the dating scene here. Making it pretty much non-existent. Guys don't ask girls out, even for a "you're kinda cool, let's get to know each other over coffee" kind of date. It's as if going on a date meant you were getting married (since many couples tend to date very seriously and are engaged by graduation). My friend at another university was very surprised to hear that I had not gone on any dates at school. It just doesn't happen here. To be fair, we end up with some great guys friends (who are definitely friend-zoned), and most of our serious couples started off by being friends.

Given all that, I [recently] had a conversation with a male acquaintance at a school function [...] [My] radar started going off as the conversation progressed- mostly small talk, but still. We have some [...] interests in common, but I'm just not interested if he tries to pursue. (Though I do give him credit for picking up a conversation. I am told I can be somewhat intimidating, or at least appear very poised and confident- just so you know what the guys have to deal with. "Approach with caution or a lot of confidence.")

Anyway, this got me thinking: how do you navigate these types of situations if they arise in college or later in life? On one hand, you don't want to shut guys down right away because they had the guts to ask a girl out or talk to her, which is what we'd really want happening on campus. I figured that, unless they're obviously on a "wife hunt" or total creepers, it wouldn't hurt to go on a date, give the guy a shot, and enjoy it. But on the other hand, if you're not really interested, would that just be leading them on? It's just really confusing, especially in this super serious dating environment.

Sorry if you've already covered this on your blog- you could just send me some links.

God Bless!
Fair Chance


Dear Fair Chance,

I stand by my "It's just coffee" position. Whatever the courtship culture looks like at your college, the experience of every girl and guy there is going to be unique. And I don't like this "ring by spring" attitude because it suggest couples feel pressured to get engaged and marry. Disillusionment will bring divorce, and I am all about preventing disillusionment and divorce.

I have written many times that the most attractive qualities are joy and confidence. Well, part of confidence is saying "Yes" to what you want and "No" to what you don't want. Therefore, if a man asks you out for coffee, and you want to have coffee with him--for ANY reason (you're cold, you need a coffee, he's funny and you could use a laugh)--then have the coffee. If the same man wants to hold your hand, but you don't want to hold his hand, give his hand a friendly squeeze and let go.

I do not think there is anything wrong with spending time with men you like because they are friendly and nice to talk to, as long as you do not feel this means you HAVE to do something else. You don't. You should, however, make a mild protest when they offer to pay, and insist on paying sometimes, especially when you intuit that a guy has a crush on you. That way he won't feel used when he gets over it.

Above all, you are not a failure if you don't get "a ring by spring". Sorry to diss your college culture, but what nonsense! That kind of attitude can ruin lives. Some people just aren't ready or called to be married right out of college.

I hope this is helpful!

Grace and peace,
Seraphic


Now that I'm 39+, my brain synapses are totally done joining up, I went to therapy for five years and I have a diploma in Lonergan Studies, it is all too easy to wonder why 20-something girls jump from "we had a conversation" to "he'll ask me out" and from "he asked me out" to "he'll force me at gunpoint to marry him." When I was 20-something, my brain zipped from A to Z too.

Too many young women make up their minds about their future with a man in fifteen seconds. Either he's cute, so they're getting married one day, or he's not so cute, so they aren't. It's like shoe shopping or, worse, skimming through faces on a dating website. I am personally a big fan of cute, but let's get real. Not all good guys resemble actors and not all cute guys are good.

In my experience, guys think girls are pretty or they don't, whereas girls either think a guy is cute, come to think of a guy as cute, or stop thinking of a cute guy as cute when it turns out he has the personality of either a dust-mop or a hyena. And this is why I think women should go out with a guy for coffee before dismissing him as "Meh. Not interested." Nice boys are usually uncomplicated and ask girls out for coffee just because they think the girls are attractive and kind. (Bad men are often complicated, too complicated for this post.) Being thought attractive and kind is flattering. Personally, I like best those men who think I am attractive and kind. Men of such sophisticated and discerning tastes are rare. Their value is beyond that of rubies. Did I mention the young Bangladeshi chef who tried to chat me up on the bus that Sunday? Oh, I think I did.

At the same time, of course, I am for women doing exactly what they want to do, as long as it is not against God's laws. There is no divine law saying "You should not have coffee with a near-stranger you're not prepared to marry." If a man seriously thinks a woman has agreed to marry him because he bought her a coffee, he's either insane or doing that girl thing of going straight from A to Z instead of, like most men, just plodding along from A to B to C to D.

Men don't like being "led on"--that's true. But on the other hand, they want to be given a chance. So for heaven's sake give the ones who have the good taste and the manly courage to actually ask you out a chance. It's just coffee.

Auntie Seraphic and Annoyed by Future Saint

One of the staggering discoveries of mid-life is that young men, though usually better-looking, are really not as smart as older men. Okay, maybe that is too snarky. What I mean is that young men usually have a lot to learn, and by the time they have learned it, they are older.

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

First of all, thank you for your blog!

I'm writing to ask for your perspective on a view of dating that was expounded to me by a young man enamoured of the religious life. I bring it up because, although I laughed it off at the time, it kind of rankled, and I think a lot of other young women might well relate to what I felt.

I was sitting outdoors [one moonlit night] with a young man whom I will call George--we'd gone to college together but had never known each other well. He has a brilliant intellect, and a strong will, and his top priority is to become a saint. Although his personality is kind of irritating to me, [he is really very kind.] I say this at the beginning so you'll understand why, in spite of the sting of what he said, I'm still convinced that he meant it in all charity. I just happen to think he was really dangerously wrong, and that women should not listen to this kind of junk.

George had resolved on entering the religious life. He was on fire for God, and he asked me about my vocation. I assured him that after having recently received some spiritual direction, I was 95% sure that the religious life was not for me, but that I hoped perhaps to get married someday.

Pause.

He asked me thoughtfully how old I was. "Twenty-five? Well, I guess you have some time. If you get married in the next couple years, that would be plenty of time to raise a family. Just don't waste any of it."

I laughed.

"It's true," he said mildly. "It's the biological reality that a woman only has so many child-bearing years..."

"Well, I'm not worried about it," I responded. "I believe that if God wants me to get married, He'll send the right kind of guy into my life. And if he wants me to have x number of children, then I'm sure that I will."

"God helps those who help themselves," he said earnestly. "I'm saying this because I know so many wonderful young Catholic women who fall into this trap of waiting for 'the right man' and end up unhappy and unmarried in their late thirties. Actually, the whole point of marriage is to raise children and help each other to get to heaven. You don't need fireworks of physical attraction to do that. What you need to do, once you decide that marriage is your vocation, is to go marry a good Catholic man without wasting time, and to work out your salvation through your married life."

I laughed again. "You've got to be kidding! Nice Catholic men whom I could stand to be married to aren't exactly waiting around of street-corners for me to fall into their arms!"

"Be honest," he replied. "You could be married now, with three children if you had made it a priority. I knew you in school, and I knew of more than one guy who was interested, but you didn't encourage it."

"That's true," I replied. "But I thank God I didn't encourage anything! I honestly could not stand to be married to any one of the men who, up to this point, have shown romantic interest in me. A lot of them have been weak and insecure characters, needy for attention, or academic and pedantic. The mere thought of being married to such a person is enough to bring on an allergic reaction. And I'm even grateful that none of the handsome, devil-may-care fellows whom I was interested in ever returned my feelings, because a maturer viewpoint shows me what really poor husband-material they would have been."

"Then, you're obviously not making it a priority to pursue your vocation and work out your salvation in the state of life to which God has called you. You're not unattractive; you would have found a good man by now if you didn't have romantic ideas of finding a soul-mate."

"So, you're saying it's my fault that I'm still single at the age of twenty-five-and-one-half?"

"Don't get upset; I'm not attacking you, or trying to make you feel guilty. I'm just trying to give you some advice in the hopes that it will help you to find an husband and settle down in that state of life to which it seems you are called."

"I'm not offended, I just think you're wrong. What if it's not a problem that I'm not married yet? What if it's God's will for me to wait a few years, and that's why I haven't met someone yet whom I could marry?"

I didn't say it to him, but I could have elaborated: It seems to me that my lack of romantic entanglement is a gift from God. Yes, I've been lonely, yes, I dream of being married, I plan my wedding day, I long to have cuddly babies and a big strong husband to welcome home from work. I want to teach my children to love Jesus and the Blessed Mother, I want to bake cookies and wear a frilly apron. But God knows, I have not been ready for a relationship.

I'm a late bloomer. I was your typical awkward, socially inept homeschooler in college. I was self-absorbed and scrupulous. I've grown up so much in the years since then--in ways that I truly do not think I could have while married to Mr. Lets Become Saints, or Mr. I Love the Fact You Always Wear a Mantilla, or Mr. You're Such a Kind and Loving Little Woman I Know You'll Always Be There to Listen to My Troubles.

You see what I mean? Furthermore, what if God is speaking to my heart and teaching me His will for me throughout this lonely time? What if, as I truly believe, He wants me to begin to learn to be the woman I was meant to be before He sends the man whom I will marry with joy and gladness? What's the problem with that? Why should I start throwing myself at men, or accept and encourage advances which merely bore and trouble me? If I never do find the man I can love, I'm okay with being single the rest of life. It won't be easy, but it's certainly preferable, in my mind, to a difficult marriage, where the only kind of love I have for my husband is produced by an effort of the will."

But my self-appointed mentor was not convinced. He was sure that I was dreaming of a Prince Charming with loads of magnetic personality and "fireworks of physical attraction".

"Look at the parents of St. Therese," he said. "What a holy marriage. It certainly was not about physical attraction. They planned to remain celibate, and only decided to change this on the advice of a spiritual director. Anyway, I think a lot of Catholic girls worry about finding 'the right' one, and about whether 'marrying this man is God's will for me' when all they have to do is accept the one who is there."

I could have noted that anyway, they liked each other very much, for a start--and that Zelie Martin had an interior locution when she first saw Louis. A voice spoke in her heart saying, "This is the man I have prepared for you," Or the fact that Lous was already in his mid-thirties, and though I don't know how old Zelie was, she had already established herself as business woman. She must surely have been in her mid twenties at least.

"I'm not looking for the perfect man!" I protested. "I'm not looking for fireworks! But I really, really want to be with someone whom I can relate to, connect with intimately! I want us to be able to understand one another, to share a sense of humor and irony. I want to be best friends with the man I'm going to marry. If I found such a man, and he was manly and reliable and virtuous, I think falling in love with him would almost go without saying. It'd be as easy as rolling off a log! I am so ready for love! But I am not going to marry, or even date, some insecure bore just because he's trying to be a saint, and don't try to make me feel as if I'm somehow at fault for failing to secure a man before the age of twenty-five, because I think your theory is totally wrong."

Well, as I say, my companion is brilliant, so the long and the short of it is that he managed to talk circles around me and present a solid theological case, without convincing me in the slightest!

"I may not be smart enough or educated enough to prove it," I wound up saying, "but my heart has common sense. And anyway, with my frail virtue, marrying a man who bores me, with whom I cannot connect, who doesn't make my heart beat a little faster--why, that would just be placing myself in the way of all sorts of temptation. Temptation to become a bitter shrew, to feel sorry for myself, to compare my lot with that of other women, to compare my husband with theirs, etc. Of course, a saint wouldn't do that, but the truth is, I'm far from being holy, and I'm not about to put myself in a situation that I know is beyond my strength. I'd have to be an idiot."

So that was that.

But I wanted to write to you about it, because I feel that we young single women are so in danger from this guilt-trip! It is hard enough to be single, and then we hear that it's our fault? What a recipe for scrupulosity!

What a disaster, if we were to go all-out for marriage, feeling that we were not following God's will for us unless we did our darnedest to snag the nearest available Catholic male of good morals. It's a sad but true fact, by the way, that the men who are standing around ready to be snagged and start "a holy Catholic family life" are generally up-tight, control freaks with issues. I'm sorry; it's true. It seems to me that we should not be looking for just anybody who matches certain criteria, but that we should be looking to relate to a person with a good character. Anyway, I want a man to value the unique person that I am, not just the fact that I dress modestly, wear a mantilla or hat at mass, and want to have babies. And I want to be able to love a man for all the unique little things that are special about him, not just for the fact that he's a good provider, or wants to pray together (I've had maladjusted self-absorbed, control-freak bores who wanted to pray with me. Just sayin').

I wondered if you might present this question of guilt and scrupulosity, and reassure the young women out there who are suffering from this sense of failure and shame! I was able to laugh it off--I know it isn't true--and yet, y'know? I can't help being a bit stung (esp. because I've never dated! Yikes! Is it possible that it's because I'm cold-hearted and arrogant? Am I truly seeking God's will, or just what I want? Etc, etc.) And I think a lot of us are like that.

Once again, thanks for your wise and witty words on your blog!

Best,
Annoyed by Future Saint

PS--for what it's worth, Sigrid Undset, in an essay on "Woman", wrote that it seemed that the fact that women no longer need to marry in order to be provided for, may be indicative of the fact that they ought not, unless they feel called to do so. There are plenty of useful things that merry old spinsters can do, instead of becoming bitter, long-suffering wives.


Dear Annoyed by Future Saint,

My very first thought, upon reading your email was, "How old is George?" It strikes me that only a very young man would dare give a young woman he is not related to such solemn, magisterial advice on what to do with her life. Fortunately, a good seminary works wonders.

My next thought was that I married at 25 because I couldn't understand why I kept getting bored with my boyfriends and thought I would conquer my wicked fickleness with a plunge into the abyss. [And although I didn't have to listen to lectures on marriage is for babies and working out your salvation, I did have to struggle with the guilt of preferring to marry a fellow Catholic--how "bigoted" of me---and that was just to start with.]

As a result I was divorced at the age of 27, had an annulment (thank heaven) at age of 28, and remained unmarried until I was 38. The worst part was swimming around in a sea of broken dreams and disappointment and struggles from the ages of 24, when I was engaged, until 32, when I went to theology school and found real happiness in God's service. But that was eight years of my life destroyed by marrying the wrong man [and being the wrong woman]. I still have invisible scars today.

There may be women who can "just get married" to the first good Catholic man who comes along, and "just do it" when they go to bed with him, and "just offer it up" when they find him incredibly annoying. There may be women who can channel all their hopes for a real love-connection into their children, and forgive their husband for not being "all that" because at least he provided both their beautiful children and, hopefully, a decent life for them all that does not involve grinding poverty or domestic violence. However, I don't think those are university-educated, idealistic women. I think those women mostly come from cultures where women are raised from birth to expect nothing and just be grateful for whatever they get whereas their brothers are treated like little emperors.

Meanwhile, although this is treated by the Catholic young as a hideous nightmare, there is not much wrong with being an unmarried woman in her late 30s, as long as she has work that provides her with satisfaction and decent living conditions and the emotional support of friends, family or both. I know many such women, and although some would no doubt like to be married, I would not call them miserable. No doubt there are some women who are, but why they would be sharing their unhappiness with young George is beyond me. Has he been watching daytime television?

My final words: don't settle. Ir doesn't matter what brilliant 20-something boys say. My ex was a brilliant 20-something, too. To paraphrase from my favourite film, "What they don't know about women is a lot."

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

When Pushy Older Ladies Make Their Sons Call You

Oh la la. I have had yet another email from a Would-Be Seraphic Single who has been telephoned, sight-unseen, by the son of a lady who thinks she is da bomb. (Older ladies she meets often think this.) The problem is, from a blogging point of view, is that the details of this email are so particular, I fear the writer's recognition and capture by her friends. ("Hey! I read your letter on Auntie Seraphic's blog!)

That reminds me, if you go to Notre Dame, Steubie or Christendom, you basically have to tell me so I can work extra-hard to disguise you. I mean it.

So instead of publishing this letter, I will just tell you the reader's concerns:

1. Blind dates are scary and embarrassing, and Reader has agreed to go on one with Nice But Pushy Lady's Son.

2. Nice But Pushy Lady's Son is merely culturally Catholic, and Reader doesn't want to teach any more catechism in her spare time.

3. Who should pay? If, while they stand at the counter, she pays, will he think she is a feminist?

4. Reader is looking forward to an appointment with a much more attractive prospect later this month.


And here's what I said:


Dear [Reader I'm Shortly Going to Blog About],

I feel for you. It's an embarrassing situation! The bright spot for me is that NBPL thinks you are a wonderful girl she would be happy to see her son with. For a woman to want to give you her baby lamb--that's a big compliment. Ditto for all those other ladies. Say... I have this spiritual son, aged 25.... (Just kidding!)

Let me look at these fears and see what we can do to make life more bearable.

1. Blind dates are indeed frightening and embarrassing. My last one was set up by a Korean girl I was helping with her English with a young university professor named George. She called him "Professor George." If you were reading at the time, you might remember that I got all my readers to vote on whether I should go on this blind date. (Then-Reader B.A. said no.)

Anyway, I survived. As you see. Professor George was Greek Orthodox, so we fought about religion over pierogi at the local Ukrainian bakery--a public place I know very, very well. Dear me. And now I laugh merrily. At the time I was thinking, "Oh well. At least my next blog post is writing itself!"

You could make the blind date less blind by seeing if Sonny-Boy is on Facebook. Google-stalk!

2. It's amazing how culturally Catholic men snap into shape if they form a real attachment to a religious Catholic girl. All that underlying stuff from baptism, etc., seems to start working like yeast. The religious girl doesn't have to (and shouldn't) get all catechetical on him. All she has to do is look pretty and be unbendingly firm about all moral issues and go to Church on Sunday and answer his [religion] questions, [if he asks], without making a big deal of it.

3. Who pays? This whole thing is NBPL's idea, so she should darn well pay. But I recommend going dutch on this one. The guy didn't ask you out of his own free will, and he may be feeling rather put upon and bossed about by women, so if you go dutch you don't (A) look like you are profiting from it (cranky men do think that way*) or (B) act like his mom by paying for him.

I once went on a date with a guy who really, honestly, forgot to bring his wallet, but was too frightened to tell me. So in the end I paid for everything. Dating is awful. [What is good is discovering you are in love with a friend, and that he loves you too. That is the best. So concentrate on making friends--the more friends, the better.]

4. Hooray for Mr Fabulous! Listen, this blind date thing will be just coffee. Or a walk in the park. Or something more creative, like going to a free concert, or a museum, or a science centre, or whatever you guys agree on. You could discuss it on the phone. "Let's see. What do we have in common?" You aren't going to be made to marry Scooter at gun point. He might make a good friend. He might make a good business contact.

I hope you are feeling better. There's nothing like a good night's sleep to kill angst. Joy cometh in the morning.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

*UPDATE: This may sound weird, but even some trad guys are heavily resentful of don't like the idea that they should pay on dates. If they are absolutely crazy about a girl, they aren't. But if it is dating-on-spec, they sometimes are. I once got a speech about this why dating is out of date that seared my feminine soul. Eeek! One day I may repeat it word-for-word from memory, and your feminine souls can be seared too.

Auntie Seraphic & Had a Lousy Date

This is the saddest thing I have read since I read about the poor baby elephant whose mother stomped on it. It's just so.... What is wrong with the world? Argh! Sexual Revolution, I hate you so much!

Note to men: Girls won't slap you. Women don't slap men anymore. We're afraid if we slap you, you will punch our lights out. (That said, I have been known to take that risk.)

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

I'm not really asking for advice, now that it's after the fact, so much as relating a story thinking you may have some advice to cull from it and post on your blog for other girls, since I wish I had had some (or a reminder, if you've posted on this already) beforehand!

I recently started a new job, and there was an orientation meeting for all the new hires.  There was a guy there, with whom I didn't have much interaction during the meeting.  But on our lunch break lunch, we both ended up at the same fast food place.  He was sitting at a table nearby, and because we were supposed to sort of know each other, and because I thought it'd be nice to get to know someone, I went over to his table. 

So, we chatted a bit-- the normal "get-to-know-you" stuff like where we had lived previous to our current town, previous jobs, that sort of thing... 

Later, before the meeting ended, he asked if he could give me his number.  He was pretty cute and seemed like a nice guy (a little over-the-top gentlemanly, even), so I took his and went ahead and gave him mine as well.  I was pretty excited and flattered about it, and hoped he would call or text at least some time that week. 

Well, he texted me later that evening. I was surprised, but still happy to be receiving attention from someone I would consider dating.  He continued texting me over the next couple days until he said, "It would be nice to see you again," and asked me to go to dinner and a movie with him that weekend.  This seems innocuous enough, but I think such a standard date may have been a small, red flag in retrospect. 

Well, I was very excited. I even bought a new dress.  He offered to pick me up, but I declined and we agreed to meet at the theater. 

Now, I just want to remind you that I have met this person once before in my entire life, and the sum of our conversations could fit within 45 minutes, excluding texts. But the first thing he did when he saw me was hug me. I don't like being touched by people I don't know well, but I told myself that that is probably a normal thing to do, so I went with it.  Then, when I turned to walk toward the ticket booth, he walked next to me and put his hand on my lower back/hip.  I literally jumped and tripped because it was so surprising.  But I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know if I didn't like it, or if I was just not used to it, so again, I went with it. 

But, Auntie Seraphic, the boy did not [fail to] have some hand on me for more than a few seconds the rest of the night.  I could barely walk. During the movie, he immediately put his arm around me and stroked my arm the entire movie.  But again, I wasn't sure if I disliked it because it was objectively weird, or if I disliked it because I have deep-seeded issues with intimacy.

After the movie, we went to dinner, and it was incredibly awkward.  We didn't have much to say to each other, and I was bored out of my mind. He made a comment that implied he took my taciturnity for shyness rather than boredom, which wasn't totally off base as I can be pretty shy when I am not comfortable with a person. He asked if we could get together again the NEXT DAY. 

After dinner, he walked me to my car, and as we were saying our "goodnights" and "thank yous," he leaned in for a kiss. And I kissed him back. But it wasn't just a sweet peck; there was tongue. And I just kind of stood there, wondering when he was going to be done and trying to decide if I was enjoying it or not, and wondering if we were bothering the other people in the parking lot. 

After I pulled away, I didn't say anything and just started to get in my car. He made the quip, "mind if I get in there with you?" and I said, "Haaah. No." And I left.  I was near tears on the drive home, because I was so disappointed, and felt so guilty that I didn't like him. 

He texted me later, calling me sweetheart, and asking when we could get together again.  I never responded. Mostly because the next day, I had sunk into a depression coma and stayed in bed most of the day, feeling like a bad person because I didn't stop him when I should have, and wondering if there was something wrong with me for not enjoying his attention. If it needs to be said, I am not terribly experienced in formal dating. I've had boyfriends, but they always evolved naturally, out of friendship. "Dating" in the 1950s sense, is fairly foreign to me. 

It wasn't until I talked to some friends who were in unanimous agreement that his behavior was objectively weird and creepy, and that he shouldn't have put me in a position where I would have had to tell him I was uncomfortable in the first place, that I started feeling less awful about it. 

One friend made a great point that this guy didn't treat me like a human being who he was trying to get to know and earn the privileges he took, but he treated me like a DATE. As if he had a script for how "dates" are "supposed" to go, and just followed that. That's what I meant when I said the standard Dinner and a Movie Date was a little bitty red flag. 

I don't think this guy was predatory; I think he was just confused.  I ended up writing him a very succinct text telling him I would prefer not to go out with him again, because I didn't feel a spark, and because I thought he came on too strong for a first date. 

So, I have definitely learned from this... Mostly, to not be so compliant, and that I don't need to fool myself into believing I enjoy attention that I only think I should enjoy.  That it's okay to not be into someone who is into me, and that a bad date isn't the end of the world. But I also decided I really don't like dating. It seems so unnatural to me! I really prefer my more "European" approach to relationships that grow naturally out of friendship. I don't think I will go on a date with a stranger like that again any time soon. 

Anyway, if you have any other thoughts, I'd love to hear them.

Had a Lousy Date

Dear HALD,

I am so sorry that happened to you. I think the worst part was you just allowing this stranger to keep touching you, thinking that maybe you were "supposed" to enjoy it. Nobody has the right to touch you without your permission, and it is very odd for a complete stranger to think he can do it without asking. It would be unusual (and perhaps disturbing) for a young woman to enjoy any young mn she barely knows stroking her in a dark room for two hours. And personally I really HATE the hand-on-the-back routine, which is so patronizing--the big man pushing the little lady in the direction he wants her to go.  

I can't even begin to imagine what was going through the man's head, but I think your friends were right. Perhaps he wasn't thinking of you as "you" but as "A Girl." And it is indeed like all he knows about Girls is what he sees on TV and in the movies. 

The story is so sad that it strikes me that many readers could profit from reading it, so I'd like to put it on the blog, if I may.   I think what all girls could stand to learn is how to get out of hugging someone, and how to speak up and say, "Hey, it's a little soon for that" AS SOON AS they feel an unwanted touch. It can be so hard to do this comfortably and graciously. And your friends are right: men shouldn't put us in this embarrassing position. But who is going to tell them? Their parents? They certainly aren't going to learn it from Great God Television.

Another thought that comes to mind is that we can always say "No" to "dinner and a movie". As a first date. We can always say no, and we SHOULD say no to anything that surprises us or makes us feel uncomfortable. In future if a cute stranger asks you to "dinner and a movie" as a first date, you are well within your rights to say, "No, thank you. But what about a coffee?" 

I hope this is helpful. And I hope you don't jump a mile the next time you are asked on a date in a "traditional" way. I'm not sure "dinner and a movie" is a red flag in itself--I guess it depends on the cultural context, or if the guy sounds like he got the idea out of a comic book. 

Just have a game plan: ask yourself what you're comfortable with, suggest a "low time commitment" first date and hold out your hand for a handshake before anyone comes at you with a hug. Look anyone in the eye when they do something to you you don't like, and tell them you don't like it.

Again, I'm very sorry you had such an uncomfortable experience. It almost hurts me personally that your response to this unlikable guy was to feel guilty for not liking him. 

Grace and peace,

Seraphic

  

Auntie Seraphic & Need Pep Talk

Birthday/Girls' Night. Had sudden flu. Went to Goth club anyway. 

Dear Auntie,

I've written you a couple times before and have always loved your advice. And I love your blog! I was wondering, if you need a topic idea, could you post a pep talk of sorts for the searching singles? Not so much a don't list, but a you're doing okay list? And not so much a "watch out for this type of guy" thing as a "it's not your fault you're pursued by weirdos" thing (two of my roommates have been bombarded with really weird men pursuing them, to the extent that these fellows have made more than a few events awkward and unpleasant). 

All the single women I know (and there seem to be so many of us) are struggling right now: there aren't any weddings, or engagements, or boyfriends. The pool of NCB is limited to just CB, completely missing the N part, and it's really starting to get old. Okay, to be entirely fair, there are a few NCB's here and there, they're just not interested in us, or they have recently announced plans to enter the seminary. To top everything off, it seems like every sermon this entire summer was about being faithful to your spouse, raising children, etc. Nothing for the spinster Aunts! 

We're trying to to keep on trucking, work, be happy and enjoy the privileges of being single (and there are so many! don't get me wrong!), but there isn't much caffeine in our lives and there is a feeling of lethargy in the air. 

Thanks for everything you do!

Need Pep Talk

Dear Need Pep Talk,

You don't mention how old you are, but my usual recommendation for the under-30 set is to scamper straight to the mirror and admire your beautiful under-30 skin. Say, "I love you, beautiful under-30 skin, and I promise to protect you from the wicked sun with hats and sun screen!"

Possibly this is shallow, but I don't care. You 20-somethings have beautifully fresh faces; enjoy them while you have them and preserve them for the future. 

Meanwhile, if there are no men on the scene, you and your friends are in a Golden Era of Singleness upon which you will look back fondly, and one day you will all desperately try to figure out some day you ALL can meet up, even for two hours, or just dream that this could ever have been a possibility. 

This spring, for example, there was a Mostly Married Lady Miracle when five of my old crowd, nicknamed, "Les Girls", managed to meet in a Toronto restaurant, all together for the first time since E's wedding. 

K had recently flown in from the West Coast, bound for a conference. E drove down from the city limits. L couldn't quite get away from it all, so she brought the baby. Half-Pint was... Actually Half-Pint is still only 22 or something and currently still Single, so it wasn't that hard for her. And I was visiting from Scotland. For the first ten minutes, we barely spoke. We just sat looking at each other, grinning foolishly. We were all together!

We spent all our time catching up and eating, so we didn't have an opportunity for "Remember Whens?" But had we the whole night to chat, we would have definitely got to the "Remember Whens." And there is a lot to remember from those days when we sprawled around the "Les Girls" house, moaning "Why are we still Single? Aaaaaaaah!"

There was, for example, the time we went clubbing with the sweet Muslim housemates, who refused to leave us when we got drunk, even though they were somewhat disgusted that we were drunk. And then there was the time E and L planned this amazing Goth Birthday Party for me, and I came down with flu in the middle of it, but made myself sick so my stomach would stop hurting and we could go to the club anyway. And then there was the time E and I went to Montreal with silly old Der Guter (see book), and Der Guter told my brother he was going to marry me. And there was the time.... You see where I'm going with this.

You Single Time is your Single Girl time, and by enjoying it together, you are laying up wonderful memories for the future. The future is there, fixed in the mind of God. You're travelling towards it, and although things you do today help determine it, God already has a Plan for you. So although naturally you are worried about what this Plan may be, or when you're going to see the Truly Life-Changing part of it, make sure you take a break from worry to simply have the fun of being girls together.

Because, you know, that is what I loved best about Single life. It wasn't the travelling--I travel more now! It was just being with the other Single Girls. And our caffeine came from the parties we threw--even if half the boys there were male religious--and from rushing off to clubs in the freezing dark--and from baking muffins and impromptu pyjama parties and checking out sales and discussing our studies. And now, as I sit in my attic in Scotland, I think back on those days, and I am so glad that I had fellow Catholic Single girls to share them with.  

Meanwhile, the absolute best book I ever came across about Single Life is called "Live Alone and Like It" by Marjorie Hillis. It was first published in 1936, so it assumes you're either going to live a chaste life or to have to pretend you are, and it also assumes, as I do, that most Singles are going to eventually marry, so you must seize the opportunities being Single gives you. It has a wonderful tone, so if you need an extra lift, do get this marvellous book

I hope this is helpful!

Grace and peace,

Seraphic

P.S. You're not really responsible for what goes on in the heads of the weirdos. You can, however, head the weirdos off at the pass with firm "No's" as soon as they appear. I don't know what you mean by weirdos, so let us just call them "eccentric or socially awkward men whose advances you wish to reject." A kind but firm "No" in time saves nine. Speak to them loudly and offer them unsolicited advice, like a mother or schoolteacher, nun or aged aunt. 

   

Auntie Seraphic & Vocations Victim Part 2

I don't usually post replies to my replies, but this touches on a subject that I bet is near to many of your hearts: Catholic women in ministry. There are many unmarried Catholic women doing jobs that nuns, brothers or only priests used to do, many earning a salary that barely keeps a roof over their heads and food in the larder. I remember my own official ministry placements (mostly unpaid as  it was part of my M.Div. study) with feelings ranging from joy to abject horror.

Dear Auntie Seraphic

Thank you for this very extensive and helpful reply! I appreciate it a lot. I too (as a theology student myself, missionary and parish worker) have spent a lot of time around priests and seminarians, so I am learning some of the confidence you describe. 

It is very affirming to hear that it's OK to treat priests as people -- ie. respectfully but still expressing one's own opinion and not having to feel like they always know more than you (I think they usually do -- just not necessarily about my own life/personal experience). 

Others who have not had the same experience however, continually tell me to "be more respectful" (ie. shut up). And sometimes I feel like I don't know where the line is anymore. 

I will share your comments with some very dear friends. We all experience it a lot and aren't sure what to do. 

Feel free to use any of this (without names of course! :-) for your blog if you think other readers would find it helpful. At least here in the USA it is a very common situation for those of us who are practicing Catholics/work in the Church/volunteer/go to retreats etc. 

Thank you for everything!  

God bless,

Vocations Victim

Dear Vocations Victim,

I'm sorry to read that you are being told, in so many words, to shut up , especially if you are in your mid-20s.  I wonder if anyone told St. Catherine of Siena, who wasn't even a nun and yet told the pope what to do, to shut up. I hope not, but I bet she probably was. Many people feel intimidated by young women speaking their minds. 

(And not so young, too. I just found a "thank goodness Jesus isn't as judgmental as you" comment on the internet version of the Catholic newspaper I write for--signed with a pseudonym, of course. Did I care? Yeah, for half a second.)

Anyway, don't shut up. You are a Daughter of God. The best way to respect a priest is to treat him like an intelligent human being who can handle truthful, reasonable adult conversations, and maybe make sure you aren't exposing any cleavage or too much leg when he's around. (I throw that in because sometimes I discover a priest across from me at a dinner party and I am, like, "Oooh. Could I borrow a lacy hanky to stuff in my dress?")

Grace and peace,

Seraphic

Now that I think about it, I don't know what "missionary" or "parish worker" means in VV's context. But I do know that it can be a very tough situation when your faith is also your job. 

One of my most horrible memories of parish work is standing next to the priest and the seminarian after Mass to shake hands with the People of God, and the People of God, terribly embarrassed, mostly avoided me. I was hurt  and envious of the seminarian, whom they embraced and patted and made much of, even though he was politically and socially to the right of Generalissimo Franco and possibly drank the blood of slaughtered liberation theologians.

But I now think, of course they did. The People of God dread the imposition of "lady priests" (to quote a man who ordered me away from his hospital bed), and I looked suspiciously like a "lady priest." I honestly believe the People of God draw the line at lady priests. They want real priests, young priests, even (or especially) priests like Semininarianissimo Franco.

Every time a soi-disant "womanpriest" gets ordained, life gets worse for ordinary Catholic women in the ministry trenches. I heard so much moaning about clericalism in my pre-Trid days, but thinking that only clerics are first class Catholics, and therefore women are doomed to the second class, is a pernicious form of clericalism. It just isn't true. What is true, however, is that many priests are scared of women, not so much now because they are afraid of women tempting them into sexual sin (as some women have always tried to do), but because they are afraid of women--or laypeople in general--taking over and bossing them around.  

This can leave the young woman doing what used to be nun-work or even priest-work (like chaplaincy) in the difficult position of having to prove all the time that she does not secretly harbour a desire to be a priest, or in some cases, e.g. she reports to an older woman, to pretend that she does. And of course she does not get all the perks and shortcuts that the priest's collar or the nun's habit brings when dealing with people. Collars and habits make all but the most militantly progressive churchgoing layfolk smile. 

Personally, I could not hack an official church-approved ministry career, unless the new archbishop of Edinburgh wrote to me asking that I become the Official Auntie to Singles in the diocese. That would be extremely awesome, and I would do my job rather like how I did my college chaplaincy internship: basically I hung out with Catholic undergrads and a Muslim undergrad, drank tea, listened to their problems and gossip and talked about their theological interests. I think my boss (female) wanted me to be more pro-active, whatever that means, but I know the undergrads just liked having me around to talk to.  I would turn my office into a sitting-room: an overstuffed Victorian one with comfy battered couches.

However, I know some of you girls are indeed in church careers, so please feel free to chime in about how to be you and how to be taken seriously in your ministries without frightening Father Sensitive or being ground down by Father Snarly and Wannabe Womanpriest Wanda.

Auntie Seraphic & the Vocations Victim

I spent some time this morning answering this letter, so it is the only Single topic on my mind. Hopefully it will not be a shock to the letter writer if she finds my answer here before she finds it in her in-box.

Dear Auntie Seraphic, 

Hi! I enjoy your blog very much. I just shared it with a friend of mine who appreciated it too! 

So, I'm wondering what to do when priests cannot seem to find another topic to talk to young women (people) about than "Wow, you would make a good nun. OR maybe you should find a boyfriend. Have you LISTENED to God about what he wants for your life?" 

In all respect to their (probably) kindly and fatherly intentions ,I find this insulting  because it seems to imply 1) that I'm in my mid-twenties and haven't even THOUGHT about what God wants from me or 2) that somehow I am weird and less a person/Catholic/devoted to God because I'm not in some kind of life-long commitment yet. 

So how does one respectfully and yet abruptly end such conversations without appearing rude/getting angry/bursting into tears? 

I'm of the opinion that even priests don't need to know your whole life story unless they are your confessor/spiritual director or close friends. It just makes life too complicated when you have to answer off the cuff "Yes I have thought about it but discerned X was not for me and was then dating Y but he broke up with me to join the seminary" etc etc. 

How does one kindly and respectfully but firmly end such conversations? 

Does that question imply in it the hopelessness for our generation that it seems to? 

Thanks! 

God bless,

Vocations Victim 

Dear Vocations Victim,

As someone who married at 25 and divorced at 27 and got an annulment at 28 and didn't marry again until 38, I do not like the panicky climate of vocation angst that has prevailed since the 1980s. 

I think it stems from the loss of thousands of priests and nuns in the 1960s and 1970s, who abandoned their responsibilities, communities and vows, either to get married or, in some cases, to have a good time. Somehow subsequent generations are expected to pick up the slack. And I suspect we are are expected to pick up the reproductive slack for two generations of Catholics on the Pill, too. And all this without the wider, confident culture of the pre-1963 era that honoured priests, religious life and large families.

If you restate this in your own words to the next priest who gives you a hard time for not being a nun or a married lady, that might give him pause for thought.  

I see that you are worried about having appropriate respect for a priest. As a fellow Catholic I understand this. However, as a fellow Catholic who has been around priests quite a lot, in theology school, for example, I understand that the best way to respect a priest is to speak to him as truthfully as you would to any other adult. Say exactly what you think, and make it short and snappy, with no hemming and hawing or life story.  Anger--which can be a virtue (see Thomas Aquinas)--is useful here. 

If you think you would love to be married, but the men of your generation all seem to expect premarital sex as a normal part of dating, tell him. 

If you think you would love to be a nun, but your parents despise nuns, tell him that.

If you think he is being terribly rude and inappropriate, tell him you think he is being terribly rude and inappropriate. 

If you wonder why he would assume you have not thought about your vocation, ask "Why do you assume that I haven't?" If you feel insulted, say "I feel insulted."

If you feel like bursting into tears, there are few things men hate more than women bursting into tears. I think women underestimate the power of our tears. Of course, this can be manipulative, so only do it if you can't help it or it is the only way to express yourself without shrieking. Crying is okay; shrieking is not.

You might also ask him what he personally is doing to help his young Catholics meet each other or religious communities. Has he thought of organizing a parish dance? Has he thought of organizing a parish visit to the local monastery? How old was he when he was ordained? Were his parents supportive? What if they hadn't been?

What I am suggesting takes an awful lot of confidence. However, part of becoming an adult--and how the post-Vatican II era bangs on about the laity "becoming adults"--is asserting oneself before officious adults. 

I realize what you want to do is stop the conversation without rocking the boat, but acting as though a priest were just an ugly but precious piece of china you'd prefer to keep at a respectful distance is not the Christian, Catholic way. It's his job to help you, and if he's doing it all wrong, it is respectful--and loving--to tell him that. 

I hope this is helpful. 

Grace and peace,

Seraphic

Sociologists would have a field day if they examined the ways priests and young people, especially young women, interact. (Actually, that would be a field day for a sociologist.) If a middle-aged man you barely knew told you you would make a good nun or asked why you didn't have a boyfriend, I very much hope you wouldn't feel you had to tell him your life story. Of course you don't. And, indeed, you shouldn't. In fact, I bet the average Scottish twenty-something lassie  would look at such a man with venom and say, "P*** off." And off would toddle the middle-aged man with his tail between his legs. 

Now, obviously we can't say "p*** off" to a priest because a priest does not deserve such a curt (but effective) dismissal just for doing his job. His job is saving our souls, and he has been taught that the way to do this is to get us to hear God's voice calling us to religious life or marriage, not just to love Him with all our hearts, all our souls and all our minds, and to love our neighbours as ourselves. And, to give the seminaries credit, both marriage and religious life do indeed free us up for the Commandment of Love because once we get the Sex and Marriage Questions settled, we can stop worrying about them.  

As Catholics who want to have our souls saved, we have to help priests do their job. And the only way to do that is to speak to them honestly, as adults. That does not mean telling them our life stories. That does not mean apologizing for ourselves. That certainly does not mean uttering a few platitudes as if stuck with our father's most boring friend at a cocktail party.   

By the way, one of the most simple and devastating questions in the whole world is the word "Why?" If any priest, inspired by my obvious and perhaps distressing lack of children, told me that I would make a good mother, I would say, "Thank you. Why?" I would not feel I had to tell him how I old I was when I married, or how old I am now, and what the doctor said, and if I have considered adoption, and blah blah blah. 

That reminds me, "You would make a good nun" is not in itself a bitter insult in Catholic circles and should not be regarded as such. It is not the same thing as saying "You look like a sexless being no man would ever want." That is not what a nun is, no matter what pop culture says. If anyone tells you that you would make a good nun, say, "Thank you. Why?"  Unless, of course, it is a complete stranger whose advances you have rejected, in which case, if he looks too old or timorous for violence, consider your local version of "P*** off."

Auntie Seraphic & Young NFP Fan

Ah, the things boys say. Here is a very good and useful letter from someone under 25, somewhat edited by me:

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

I am one of those readers who is at the age where my brain is not yet fully developed apparently, and so I think I would like to vent to you. I'm not really upset by this event, but I have dwelt on it somewhat so I ... just want you to confirm what I already thought. 

There's this NCB  I have known for a very long time...  He is a person I have a lot of respect for and [recently] we  talked about many different pro-life issues; [this] led into also mentioning NFP and NaPro technology. 

I have been diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), and the only reason I know and am being treated is due to NFP so I'm very grateful. I don't fit the classic profile, so people wouldn't expect it and it would probably take the average doctor much longer to have figured this out. Obviously it's somewhat disconcerting to me but because of my station in life and the fact that I'm pretty young it's not something I worry about a lot. It's also not something I throw around to everyone, mostly because not many people like to hear about people's health issues, but I'm not embarrassed about it and I'm grateful for the knowledge.

So because it fit into the conversation we were having I mentioned my diagnosis and that I was able to know pretty quickly because of Creighton charting and was lucky to have done it. He didn't know what it was, and so I gave a brief explanation and mentioned that infertility is a possible factor. 

His response was jokingly "Maybe this is one more sign you're supposed to be a sister" (There is a running joke among my friends that I am meant to be a religious sister.) It didn't even register at the time but every once in awhile it still pops in my head a month later. 

I'm sure he has no idea it bothered me, but I'm not crazy that it did a little, right? God doesn't work like that even if I somehow do end up a sister. It might be a ways off, but I don't like to think I can't have babies or that this will deter men. Like I said, I'm sure he simply spoke without thinking but maybe you could just tell the eavesdroppers that women--at least a NCG-- doesn't ever like to hear that they would be bad mothers or may not be able to have kids which means God is telling them they should just enter [religious] life. 

I'm sorry because this must hit a bit of a nerve with you. You are in my prayers and you are an amazingly wonderful spiritual mother to us all. 

Blessings,

Young NFP Fan 

Dear NFP Fan,

As this happened a month ago, the NCB probably doesn't remember what he said. In fact, I bet he couldn't have remembered if you asked him about it half an hour later. My guess is that he said whatever just came into his head because he was embarrassed. (You will never know, though, as guaranteed he can't remember.) 

Teenage boys--and maybe boys in their very early 20s--think about sex all day long--they can't help it--sexual thoughts just flow through like a river through a river bed--so it really isn't a good idea to talk to them about your reproductive system. You're a girl. They're guys. You aren't interested in them, and maybe they're not interested in you, but sexy thoughts about you will pop into their heads anyway because they can't help it. And that will embarrass them.   

Meanwhile, the easiest and best way to keep boys from blurting out foolish remarks about what infertility might mean for you is NOT to tell them that you could be infertile. This is not information you should share with anyone except someone who is courting you for marriage [i.e. a boyfriend who loves you]. It is serious TMI.  

Will some boys be deterred if they think you are infertile? Yes, definitely. And as you are not, as far as you know, infertile, you really must not talk to boys or to gossipy girlfriends about your Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.

Does the fact that you have PCOS mean God wants you to be a nun? No, definitely not. Religious life is not where women go because they can't [i.e. might not be able to] have babies. Religious life is what women embrace when they are so excited about serving God, and making a whole gift to themselves to God, while living with a community of women who love God as much as they do. Fertility or infertility has nothing to do with it. God is not a eugenicist. 

I hope this is helpful.    

Grace and peace,

Seraphic 

***

By the way, it's not that adolescent brains are undeveloped, it's that they are rewiring themselves for adulthood. When you're a kid you have a really astute kid brain, and hopefully by the time you're an adult, you have an astute adult brain. But getting from kid brain to adult brain is a difficult journey over which teens have little control and can, incidentally, completely screw up with drugs and alcohol.

(I doubt my reader above is using drugs and alcohol, but I'm just throwing that in there because a recent Catholic school graduate back home, a habitual pot smoker, recently flipped out, pulled out his genitals and a knife on some girls on a streetcar, yelled obscenities at an armed policeman who raced to the scene, made a very ill-advised step forward and died in the proverbial hail of bullets.) 

One great life lesson is that young men are usually not as smart as young women about young women's feelings, unless they are gay or unusually manipulative. And, therefore, it is really not a good idea to tell young men super-sensitive stuff about anything--as young men themselves know. When I was in my late twenties, I told a male friend, an ex-boyfriend in fact, that I felt sad that I had never met Mr Right, he joked that I should give up and try women.

It wasn't that he was mean or stupid. In the five seconds before I got enough breath back to start crying, he began to apologize profusely. No, it was because he was a guy, and embarrassed, and to cover his embarrassment he told a joke. Ah ha ha.

Talking to men about super-personal stuff as if they were women opens you up to a world of hurt.  And, meanwhile, since men in the pro-life movement are the men who care most about babies, it is really, really, REALLY a bad idea to involve them in the drama of your own reproductive issues. Men gossip so much, and telling one guy that you have ovarian cysts could mean him telling any guy who asks him about you that you are actually infertile. Would you date a guy who was known for being sterile? Maybe you'd be okay with it at 40. Maybe not so much at 20.