Distinguishing Loving from Fancying

People learning North American English must be so confused by our poverty of words concerning matters of the heart. When I was a school child, we expressed other-focused longings with the word "like", as in "So do you like him?" or "You like Aaron! You like Aaron!" or, cynically, "So who do YOU like?" as if every ten year old girl must by definition have a crush on someone.

This could be confusing, for of course we like many things, which means to say, we associate many things with goodness or pleasure. I like Georgian architecture, for example. I like the Scottish Poetry Library. I like the poetry of Zbigniew Herbert. I like cats. I like our nearest neighbours.

Fortunately, the British, who invented English, have a more specific word for other-focused longings and it is "fancy," as in "So do you fancy him?" 

This is a terribly useful word for it always has the connotation of want. You can also say "I fancy a cup of tea" and it means the same thing. You want something. You fancy the cup of tea because it will relax or warm you, and you fancy the new cashier in the supermarket because he is just so tasty-looking. 

Back my good theology school, which I discovered after the fact is considered rather "liberal", my ethics prof used to talk very solemnly and positively about "eros" and tell us concupiscence doesn't mean what we think it means. He was a very good man, and I can imagine him discoursing for half an hour on the holiness of our erotic feelings for the new cashier in the supermarket. However, I think the holiness of our erotic feelings for the new cashier in the supermarket has the shelf-life of a cheesecake. To be honest, if we spend too long concentrating on the thrill we get from the new cashier, we are lusting after the new cashier. 

Lust is the least of the Seven Deadly Sins, but it is still a deadly sin because, even at its mildest, it can utterly cloud your reason. It can lead you to do all kinds of stupid things, including stick with a man who is really rotten to you, or who bores you senseless, because you love kissing him so much. Physical expression of affection, even if sincere affection is largely absent, can chemically/ psychologically glue a woman to someone. Sexual desire is like a freight train, and the only person who can stop it is the driver, through a massive and heroic act of will, plus Grace.

For the sake of happiness, fancying should not be confused with loving, and love of some sort should come before fancying. Definitely there should at least be liking, as in "I like him. He is kind to people and makes me laugh." I know many people who are kind to people and make me laugh, so I like many people. I want to be around them because being around them simply makes me feel comfortable and happy, and I hope God will reward them for their kindness in this world and the next.

Hoping God will reward someone in this world and the next can be defined as "desiring the good of the other" which is the Thomist definition of love. And I think it a measure of love when your desire for the greater good of the other is greater than your desire for any of your goods less than your eternal salvation. For example, many a spouse would lay down his life for his spouse, and many a parent her life for her children. (N.B.: The good of the other is never something forbidden by God.)

Family and friends make all kinds of sacrifices on behalf of those they love. A loving parent says "No" to her  12 year old daughter going to an unsupervised boy-girl party even if the daughter will shout "I hate you! I hate you!" and mean it. A loving 24 year old teacher says "No" to his 18 year old pupil who has a crush on him, not because he could get in trouble if he didn't, but because he does not want his 18 year old pupil to suffer psychological harm.* 

This is true even if the 24 year old teacher secretly fancies his 18 year old pupil and feels pretty wretched. Because, obviously, you can fancy someone and love them at the same time. When I met B.A., I already liked him because he was funny, and then I liked him because he was so kind to everyone, and then I fancied him, but didn't do anything about it, first, because he was A REGULAR READER, and second, because life has taught me it is infinitely better to be the recipient of the First Real Move myself than to make the First Real Move and third, I had just met him and relied upon prudence to safeguard my own good and his. 

The fancying part was not as important as the liking part and the loving part, and I love my regular readers just for being regular readers. Fancying B.A. only became important when I knew B.A. fancied me, and super-important when I knew B.A. loved me in a marry-me way because, really, you shouldn't marry anyone you don't fancy. 

However, our poor hypothetical 24 year old teacher is not in a position to marry his 18 year old pupil because, first of all, she is his pupil, second, she's only 18, and third, he's married already. 

Maybe I should have said that first. At any rate, our hypothetical 24 year old teacher is a good man, and loves both his pupil and his wife, and therefore desires their good. (And if he is a Christian, he desires the good of his salvation above all else.) The good of the pupil is not to get mixed up with him, and the good of his wife is to have a loyal husband. For the teacher to act on his feelings of fancy would be contrary to love. But as he loves, he doesn't. 

To recap some distinctions to help us all sort out how we feel and what is real:

LIKING: Admiration and wanting to be around something/someone just because it/he/she makes you smile and feel happy.

FANCYING: Wanting someone, or their image, for the erotic thrill even just thinking about them gives you.

LOVING: Desiring the other's good so sincerely that you would forgo many goods, including their company, in order to protect it.  

Obviously, when fancying is divorced from love, what we have--very quickly--is lust. And many people fancy those they don't even like, which is dangerous to reason. We do that all the time when we have a crush on someone we don't even know, like a film star, and just create a fantasy around him. 

It is actually quite terrible to be fancied by someone who doesn't know you or doesn't really want to know you as you really are, and wouldn't like you as you really are, but just creates a fantasy based on your image. Knowing that, I suppose we should all strive not to do that to others ourselves. 

The worst case scenario is marrying someone who thinks you are the fantasy image of you he has in his head because, believe me, a few months of marriage will defeat his every attempt to keep that fantasy alive. And then he will blame you, you fantasy-girl murderess!  

It's lovely to be married to someone who likes you. And it is horrible to be married to someone who doesn't like you. So let there be liking before fancying! And let us put love--love as Thomas defined it--before everything else.

Friendships with Reserve

Men and women can be friends, but men can't be women friends and women can't be men friends. Let us be clear on this.

I have had some interesting correspondence about the following situations:

1. The man has a crush on a girl. He tells another girl all about it. He gets over his crush on the first girl. He develops a crush on the second girl. The second girl doesn't take him at all seriously.

2. The girl has a crush on a man. She tells another man all about it. She gets over her crush on the first man. She develops a crush on the second man. The second man doesn't seem to be interested anymore.

We could chalk this up as a tragedy of bad timing, or we could posit that there is something unwise in telling members-of-the-opposite-sex friends about our crushes.

If there is one thing I have learned about men, it is that they are not girls. And if they are attracted to girls, they do not appreciate being treated as if they were girls. Sometimes they resist this quite vigorously. But sometimes they do not because, being attracted to girls, they will cut girls a lot of slack. But, in general, they don't like being made to feel like the palace eunuch. Their semi-conscious resentment could be expressed in the parlance of the neighbourhood of my youth as "What am I? Chopped liver?"

Male friends who identify as gay do not seem to mind as much, but even then you really must understand that they are not "just some of the girls" even if they say they are. They are men, with male sexuality, and whereas their advice might be have an internal logic as far as men who identify as gay are concerned, it might make absolutely no sense for women, particularly chaste ones. Whenever men who identify as gay give me or tell me about relationship advice they have given other women ("And I told her, Darrleeng, you should take a lover"), my hair stands on end.

I like my guy friends so much, I don't treat them as if they were girls who might enjoy talking about girl stuff, e.g. my feelings. Possibly I slip occasionally, and bore them senseless, for which I apologize.

There's a fine line between treating all nice young Single men as if they were just Husband Potentials/Impossibilities and treating them as if they were girls. I call it Friendship with Reserve. It's respectful, it's kind, and, if this applies to your state of life, it keeps the options open.

Auntie Seraphic & the Childhood Crush

This letter was edited to protect the writer.

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

I'm writing in search of some dating advice! So there's this guy that I've had a crush on since forever, [grade school] to be exact. I'm now 2-. Being a very shy and insecure teenager, I never caught onto the fact that this guy apparently had a crush on me despite the fact that he asked me to multiple dances. I think he was shy and insecure too, so it was a hopeless combination. We barely even said hi to one another in passing at school.

Anyhow, fast forward [x] years [...] I really grew in my faith during my university years [...] . He, on the other hand, really got into partying, girls, and the whole college boy scene. While home for breaks, since we both hung in the same social circle in high school, I was able to witness some sadly typical behaviour from him. (Most appalling was his drunkeness and some of that awfully disgusting bumping and grinding with his girlfriend - right in front of his younger siblings, parents, and friends).

I've never had a boyfriend, and he's always been one of the only guys who I feel an instant attraction and connection to. This is where my question comes into play.

Recently, he broke up with his most recent "crazy" girlfriend, and he seems to have shown interest in me. I feel like I'm a good judge of character, and he has often showed me a great deal of potential. He goes to mass every weekend and is open to faith, but I don't think he agrees with all the teaching of the Church. Nor does he have a prayer life or show initiative to grow in virtue...

So, do you think it's worth pursuing at least a friendship with him, or am I just setting myself up for failure? I also don't want to pursue a friendship for selfish, emotional, girly reasons while all along knowing that I could never seriously date or marry someone like him. People keep telling me that they think we would be great together, and humanly speaking, I think we would be. I think that's why I've been stuck on him for forever and ever.

I know you can't start dating a guy with the expectation that you're going to change him, but maybe this is a different kind of situation. I've always been very strong in my convictions and boundaries, and peer pressure, etc. etc. I'm not worried that he will corrupt me or anything like that. I'm just wondering if you think it's even worth my time? More than anything, I want to marry a man who loves God and the Church more than me. Yet, I know that sometimes God can work in mysterious ways.

Childhood Crush Girl


Dear Childhood Crush Girl,


From what you tell me, this man is seriously bad news. He is not the same boy you had a crush on when you were [a kid]. He's not the same boy who asked you to those high school dances. He's the boy who ground on his girlfriend without caring or knowing what his parents would think of it or what a bad example it was for his siblings.

As you have never had a boyfriend before, you have not had the arguments and the heartbreaks and whatever it is that teaches a woman how to stand up to bad boy behaviour. (And this is not a bad thing. It is immeasurably better--and very fortunate--to not have any boyfriend until you meet Mr Right, and Mr Right does not indulge in bad boy behaviour and hasn't for some years or ever.) You may think you are incorruptible, but almost nobody is incorruptible. One way to stay on the straight and narrow path is to keep well away from romantic relationships with wild guys known for their drunkenness and lewd behaviour.

So he goes to Mass. Big deal. Going to Mass is the bare minimum of what a Catholic boy should do, and for all you know his family would kill him if he didn't.

Meanwhile, I don't think Single women should pursue Single men in any way. One of the ways to make sure a man does not just use you for an ego-boost or for a good time is to not court him yourself. If you [court him], it will be very hard to tell if he really likes you for YOU or for the thrill you give his ego. And once the kind of man who uses girls knows you like him that much, despite his obvious bad behaviour, your chances of influencing him for good are over.

By the way, does he already know you've had a crush on him for years? If so, not good. Back away. Are people telling you you'd be great together because you keep asking them? Because if so, they might just be telling you what you want to hear.

A [X] year crush sounds extremely unrooted in reality to me. But it also sounds like a part of you that you've really cherished, like books from your childhood. How we hate to throw out things that we have loved for so long! But as we get older we have to put toys and children's books aside to move adult things onto the shelves. And that's what I think you should do now.

Reading this over, this email sounds rather harsh. But I have the distinct impression of a lamb frolicking around the edge of the woods, wondering if Mr Wolf will come out and play. For heaven's sake, don't think you can take on and ennoble some womanizer ("crazy" girlfriend, my foot--maybe one thing that makes her crazy is dating guys like him), especially when you have had no dating experience at all. Stay away from him, don't pursue him, and if he pursues you, behave extremely cautiously. Make him work for your good opinion, and if he's not willing to do that, forget him. Seriously.

Incidentally, if it was he who told you that his past girlfriend or girlfriends are "crazy", do not have anything to do with him. You will be in danger of being the next ex-girlfriend he tells people is crazy.

I hope this is helpful. If you want an authentic good Catholic man, you deserve an authentic good Catholic man. Don't be blinded by a fantasy that has been growing since you were [a child].

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

***
One of the tragedies of modern Catholic dating life is getting involved with a guy who is not over a drinking-and-partying-and-generally-sowing-his-wild-oats stage in life. You may very well feel, "Humph! That's no way for a Catholic Boy to behave. Humph! We should shun him forever after!" But some (most?) of those guys improve and grow up, and that's just the way it is. The best idea is to steer clear of party boys until they wake up with the hangover of adulthood, which involves much muttering of "Why was I so stupid? I can't believe I was so stupid. Oh, oh oh."

Watch out particularly for party boys you have had crushes on since practically forever. Crushes are a great destroyer of grasp on reality.

By the way, there is a debate over on a conservative Polish website about whether it is okay just to remain a chaste and celibate Single or if conservative Poles absolutely have to get married and have children. (Anielskie Single was cited, which is why I noticed.)

I am somewhat disturbed by the low opinion in which some conservative Polish men hold other conservative Polish men who just don't want to get married, but it does suggest that my 1980s plan--that if when I was grown up I weren't married by a certain age, I would just go to Warsaw and casually drop my passport on the pavement in front of a group of cute guys--might not have been all that stupid and might not be that out of date.

Meanwhile, I repeat that I dislike the expression "start a family" because most of us are born to families and continue to have those families whether or not we get married and whether or not we have children. The more solidly we can anchor the Individual, or Childless Married Couple, or Dad-Mum-Child, into the bigger, extended family, the better.

A Change in Attitude

By the time I was 27, I was an angry little camper, people. I remember telling Shrink darling how much I hated men. Shrinkie thought this meant I had a problem with my father and my brothers. I told her that no, I hated all men EXCEPT my father and my brothers. This did not fly with what Shrinkie learned at shrink school, but it was true. Well, almost true. I didn't hate my boxing coach. I adored my boxing coach, who was a hoot, and I think fondly of him to this day.

So why did poor little Seraphic (age 27) hate (most) men so much, eh? Could it have anything to do with the row of Andrea Dworkin books on the shelf in her bachelor apartment? Maybe. But it probably had more to do with 17 years of disappointment with male behaviour.

Dwelling on disappointment with male behaviour goes against my philosophy of Seraphic Singleness, so I will be brief.

First, I had the really bad luck of being in a toxic elementary school environment. Two or three of the boys in my class were sexually precocious (why?) and from about the fifth grade on (which means from when they were ten) they were the model for many of the other boys in my class. I read a lot, so I knew that our faith disapproved of ten year old boys making out with girls behind the school, and was shocked that they and their chosen girls did.

But that was innocent compared to what followed as we all got older, which was sexualized name-calling and, not to put too fine a point on it, sexual attacks. A number of girls were deemed worthy of groping, including mass gropings; oddly, these were the "popular" girls. Fortunately for me, I was not popular. (The paradox of good fortune in not being popular still blows my mind.)

Classically, I didn't say anything to anyone about all this until my sister reached fifth grade, and then I went to see the (male) principal.

Second, the (male) principal said, "Boys will be boys" and "It's all part of growing up."

(In contrast to the principal was the school custodian who actually caught one of the boys with his hands up one of the girls' tops, and he was outraged. He grabbed the malefactor--definitely not the worst offender--and, shouting, roughly led him off to the feckless principal. How sad that our custodian caught him in Grade 8, not Grade 5.)

Third, my (male) Grade 7 teacher made sexist little jokes about girls all the time and blamed us girls for the boys' bad behaviour towards us.

It was about then that I learned about feminism and started to read feminist stuff, which confused me because although feminists were so sensible about some things, they really hated the Pope and Catholicism in general. Whenever a feminist journo mentioned JP 2 she sounded like a lunatic.

(In contrast to my sexist Grade 7 teacher was Stan the Bus Driver. I cannot remember Stan ever saying anything pro-woman in general, but just the memory of Stan brings back safe and happy feelings. Possibly Stan was really good at suppressing bullies on the bus. Hmm. I see that the two most stellar men of my elementary school were the janitor and the bus driver, not the teachers or principal.)

Graduating from elementary school and going to to all-girls high school brought a welcome relief from witnessing the sexual violence of children. However, adolescence brought all the disappointments of unrequited love, which I suffered probably every day. And I do mean every day. In fact, I think I had a crush on someone from the ages of seven to twenty-five without a day's rest. But it was the worst in high school.

I did rather better, socially speaking, in university where, I now realize, I was a heartbreaking menace, the rose-stem chomping bane of Nice Catholic Boys (well, a few of them anyway). But, unfortunately for him and me, I married Mr Protestant Totally Wrong, and that was a total nightmare and led to being divorced at 27, reading Andrea Dworkin and weeping on Shrinkie's couch.

I forget what train of thought led to this exercise, which I wrote about in My Book, but one day when I was sitting about being angry at men, and simultaneously attracted to men, which is definitely hard on the brain, I wrote out a list of everything bad I believed about men. And then beside all the bad things, I wrote the exact opposite, e.g. "Most men would rape if they could get away with it."/"Most men are horrified by rape, and in fact men have enacted laws against it."

And looking at my list, I realized that the opposite list was probably more true than the first list. And when I made that leap of faith, I stopped hating men.

If you are a Lesbian separatist, your life will still be made poorer by hating men, but at least it will be consistent. But if you are an ordinary woman like most women, a woman who wants to get married to a man and is open to having male children, hating men is going to seriously mess you up.

I understand why it is easy to hate men. All you have to do is read the crime pages or see yet another photo of a missing child on a milk container or read an account of the civil wars in Yugoslavia or hear about what happened to your great-aunt when the Russians invaded in 1945. All you have to do is hold a friend's hand as she cries because that man she had a crush on for so long used her and tossed her aside like a tissue. All you have to do is think about what bad stuff has happened to you. Soooooo easy to hate men. So tempting. But a seriously bad idea.

It is a seriously bad idea because if you get into the mental habit of hating men--and I know you might have very compelling reasons for doing so--you are not going to be able to see good men or the good in men who sometimes annoy you. The bad stuff will get blown way out of proportion. And so will the stuff that other women find only moderately annoying.

Benedict Ambrose and I almost blew it the first day we met. I tumbled off the bus from London, exhausted and jet-lagged. I demanded a meat pie and a pint of ale. So B.A. led me out of the bus station to a nearby pub. On the way there, I saw a man emerge from an alley with a bloody nose. I stopped to rummage in my handbag for a package of tissues. B.A., however, put his hand on my back and propelled me into the pub.

Now, I happen to hate pushy male behaviour. I like having the door opened for me, but I don't like being pushed through it. I like country dancing, but thanks to Mr Totally Wrong, I loathe being pushed and pulled around a dance floor.* So I was inclined to think that B.A. was One of THOSE Guys. But then, probably thanks to the Holy Spirit, I decided to trust that B.A. had a good reason for his masterful hand-on-the-back routine. And actually he did because B.A. knew, as exhausted I did not, that Mr Bloody Nose was in the middle of a street fight.**

It would have been so easy, though, were I still in the habit of finding wrong in whatever odd thing men did, just to sit in the pub resenting B.A. for his masterly behaviour. And indeed if I wanted to I could now mentally list all the annoying male stuff B.A. does, and that our males friends do, and sift through any evidence that they might not really like women, and then ponder the crap some Catholic men write about women on the internet, and the fact that I was once a rising star of my theology school and now couldn't take up the collection at Mass without causing mass hysteria. In short, I could make myself miserable and mentally and spiritually cut myself off from men.

And I don't want to do that because, all together now, men are the caffeine in the cappuccino of life. Sure, you can live without them, to a certain extent--Christian women don't want to live without Our Lord who was, scandal to the post-Christian feminist theologians, a man as well as God--but do you really want to?

And if you don't want to live without men, you must seriously ask yourself if you are giving off vibes that say that you do.


Note: Changing your fundamental philosophical/emotional orientation towards men-in-general does not mean ignoring the evils that follow upon fallen masculinity and fallen femininity. It means refusing to let them to dominate your life in any way, including mentally. It means refusing to hate people, no matter what as much as you are able. (I edited this because in fact I hate rapists. And I mean rapists, not seducers. Seducers are not my favourite people in the universe, but at them I merely sneer. Rapists I hate. I am nowhere near a level of spirituality where I can love the rapist and hate his rape. Uh uh.) It means neither pessimism nor optimism but caritas.

*Obviously I still have mental work to do so that I can stop thinking partner dancing is somehow connected with male tyranny. Thousands upon thousands of men and women just enjoy partner dancing without thinking of it as men pushing women around. Possibly I should pay Alisha $60 an hour for pro-dancing psychotherapy.

**When in doubt about male behaviour that troubles or confuses you, ASK. You can always begin with a neutral, friendly, "Out of curiosity, why did you...?" Listen carefully to the answer. Deduct points for "It was your fault" if it clearly wasn't. Actually, I think I am going to ask men friends pay me a fine of 10 p every time they tell me something is my fault. It will be like a swear jar.

Auntie Seraphic & the Vague Signals

Thanks, everyone for the requests. That gives me a lot to work with! I sense I'll be reading and rereading them all week.

This morning I'll look at the comment about the NCB, as I think this is one for the emergency room. Oh, wait, the one about not wanting a relationship with the Excellent Husband Material is an emergency room situ too, so I'll stick on a bandage: You don't HAVE to meet him in person or go out with him. Honour your gut. Your gut knows. More on this later.

Okay, today's issue:


Crush is on a NCB I’ve known for a decade. We’ve crossed paths over the years through various Young Adult groups, had some friendly fun conversations, and he dated one of my close friends for a couple years (she broke up with him and broke his heart—she later married someone else).

I never thought of this guy as anything more than a nice acquaintance, until I ran into him several times this spring and WHAM. Sudden hopeless, helpless, crush. I’m surprised it never happened before—we do share a lot of the same interests (including some very obscure authors and musicians).

Anyway, during one of our recent conversations he remarked how strange it was that he’d known me almost ten years and never realized how much we had in common. Twice he’s suggested things like “we should go together to see X Musician next time she’s in town” (Me: “That would be fun!” But nothing came of it.) and “if you’d ever like to get together to talk about Y writer, let me know” (Me: “I would love to do that!” But being a good Trying to Be Good Rules Girl, I did not follow up by setting a date).

A mutual acquaintance told me he brought me up last time she saw him, and was remarking to her how much he and I had in common. He has forwarded me a couple of links and articles around our interests—I reply commenting upon and thanking him for each, but never get a follow up response.

My intuition tells me he may be casually intrigued by me, but I don’t sense strong interest. I think he may also casually be seeing someone else (although unless he’s committed relationship, he tends to date multiple people). He’s a naturally outgoing and friendly person, with a wide circle of male and female acquaintance. I’m an introvert, so it’s possible that what I’m reading as “slight intrigue” is really just (inscrutable to me) natural extraversion.

The process of writing all this down now has my heart sinking and my head perhaps sadly clearing. But I’ll brave forward and ask anyway: Do I have any hope here and, if so, what can/should I do??

Thank you!!!

-- Another in her late 30s, Catholic, decently pretty & bright, but still single (and who chased a crush for years in her early 20s and is STILL mortified by it)


Dear Another,

First, thank you for buying my book, and thank you for stating your problem so clearly, honestly and fearlessly.

When in doubt about a relationship, it is a very good idea to write it out as truthfully and fearlessly as possible so that you can see it out there before you on the page or screen. Truth is what is, as St. Thomas Aquinas wrote. Theologian Bernard Lonergan noted that we often run from the truth. (It's called "the flight from understanding.") Intellectual integrity means looking truth in the eye.

From what you've written here, I'm with your gut. A girl should always honour her gut anyway. Your imagination is complex and will lie to you all the time, but your gut is simple and has no time for lies. It can be wrong, but it will be honestly wrong, if you see what I mean.

But in this case it doesn't look like your gut is wrong. Men say all kinds of things; it's the follow-up that counts. I don't believe in men's vague words of "we should get together to do something sometime"; I believe in "Let's go to [specific thing] on [specific date]." Confident, outgoing men tend to do exactly what they want to do, so if they want to take a girl out, they take a girl out.

This confident, outgoing guy makes vague "we should" noises instead of firm plans, so that's not good. And although he writes to you, sending you links to things you're interested in, he doesn't follow up your thanks with invitations, so that's not good either.

And you've heard that he dates multiple people and you think he's naturally outgoing, so now a picture is developing. It doesn't sound like he's that into you, but just a friendly guy who likes to have a big circle of friends and acquaintances.

I'm sorry about that. That sucks. And there's nothing you can do to make it better but get over your crush. Of course this is easier said than done, but if you hit the post label "Crushes" you will find umpteen posts with suggestions on how to do it.

For now all I'll say is that crushes are as common and annoying and generally harmless as the common cold. Everybody gets them, including married people and priests, and it is important to take care of yourself during them, being careful not to do anything to develop them, so that they don't turn into pneumonia of the heart.

I hope this is helpful.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

Auntie Seraphic & Teenage...Seraphic?

Oh Auntie Seraphic!

I think by this point you are quite entitled to shorten your name to 'Auntie Seraph." You are not just angel-like, but a real angel, indeed, a spiritual auntie for us little poppets. Just as I consider St. Therese to be a spiritual mother, I think women on earth who are not in heaven yet are most appropriately termed Spiritual Aunties.

I am one of these spiritual nieces who is overwhelmingly relieved to have such good, blunt, and resoundingly true opinions on women and men. I use 'resoundingly' because your advice is I think what all good girls know in their heart of hearts, and what is only covered up by double-guessing and daydreaming!! So I have read your blog, erm, religiously, and I'm very grateful that you are writing and making your opinions known!

So right now I feel so happy that I have these good principles of waiting and not searching out a guy in my head and Why That is Proper and Just and all that in my head. And I have come to terms with my own issue where I always always day-dream my way into huge crazy crushes that aren't rooted in reality... le sigh! However, I am a little girl! A weeee babe! That's my consolation in the face of dumby-head things I [say to] boys, both in my head and to their faces!! But Auntie... O Sensei... I have learned better! I shall never again justify dreamy!

BUT!!! But I will not be able to use this excuse forever! And I fear that I don't have this problem just because I am young! You see, though I know I shall never again ACT too forward with a guy, because I have these principles in my head, how can I keep from THINKING day-dreamy thoughts?

It's like a disease! If I meet, or even SEE a cute single catholic boy, (or even a single cute boy, or even a boy... ai ai ai!) my little brain automatically jumps to 'what-ifs.' You know? And then even if I constantly remind myself, "No daydreaming, think about the real person, think about how he hasn't shown romantic interest in you," still, I always seem to have SOME boy or other in the back of my mind. And when that boy becomes less romantically attractive... I automatically come up with another one to take his place.

I liked and then day-dreamed about a certain boy at school for about a year. Then I realized what I was doing and stopped it all, because he never showed serious interest... I don't think... It's still sort of hard to know. And I'm anxious that when I go back to school the whole cycle will start all over and I'll make an even bigger doofus out of myself!

I wonder if I run into problems of this nature because of more deep-seated issues in my life... I truly WANT to be rid of this problem, I see how silly and irrational such a mind-set is. But I fall into it almost against my will. How, I say to myself, could I be rid of this nagging hope of 'looking forward to a special guy someday', so that I can really be ready to meet him? And... ugh. I feel sick just thinking about it.

Do you think it's just a matter of being young? Of over-thinking things? Worrying too much? Have you ever experienced this? What say you, Auntie?

Nineteen


Dear Nineteen,

Now I wonder if you really are who you say you are or if you are me as a teenager writing from the past, taking advantage of some weird high school science project I've forgotten about.

Listen, there is nothing wrong with you except adolescent foggy-brain, which seems to be one of those things which goes along with adolescence and can definitely suck, but eventually it will go away and the bright sun of adult reason will burn through the clouds.

I daydreamed my way through high school and undergrad university, and I am very sorry now because daydreaming is a great foggy waste of time unless you change the names and write all the daydreams down in the form of short stories. Now when I find the few examples of this in archaeological digs through my own papers, I am amused and impressed with my teenage self instead of impatient with her for all the other time she wasted.

As for boy-craziness, I have been boy-crazy my whole entire life, and I still think men are the caffeine in the cappuccino of life, which seems a bit sad, really, given that I am married and all. You would think that being married to the Love of Your Life would keep you from ever noticing cute guys ever again, but guess what. And you would think that going to university for a million years would stop you from wanting to talk about love stuff, and yet here I am in my 40s writing about love stuff. No Nobel Prize for me.

So, dear Nineteen, I advise you not to beat up on yourself for being boy-crazy but to congratulate yourself. The fact that a new guy takes up residence in your head proves that you are capable of thinking about someone other than yourself. I'm serious. The wonderful thing about romantic love, even dumb unrequited crush-type romantic love, is that it shows that we are longing for some connection outside of ourselves.

The problem with being ashamed about being boy-crazy is we try so hard to hide it, we might come off as a bit remote and unfriendly. So even as you are telling yourself to be rooted in reality, make sure you are smiling and friendly to the nice men around you. Usually they aren't ever going to show any romantic interest unless you smile and say "Hi."

That's as far as I think girls should go, however. If you see a guy you recognize from class pass you on the street, you are allowed to catch his eye, smile and say "Hi." Repeat with next guy you recognize from class. You don't have to start a conversation; in fact, you shouldn't. Let them start the conversations past "Hi." And don't call yourself a doofus.

Anyway, I hope this is helpful. Having adolescent perpetual crush foggy brain is uncomfortable, but it seems perfectly normal to me. Just keep rooted in reality and don't beat yourself up for being the kind of woman who thinks men are marvellous and always seems to have one in her head.

Oh, and it is 100% normal to want to find a special guy one day. Thomas Aquinas thought (or thinks) getting married and having babies is the natural end of the human being, a path some are called out of by a vocation to religious life (or, I would add, some other more mysterious plan of God). Just don't think about it every 15 seconds.

There is so much more to life, especially when you are very young and have so many opportunities and student discounts. A girl can't live on caffeine: you need the nutritious food of studies, art, music, lectures, film, professional training, worship, travel, exercise and building friendships. But, as I said, your feelings are absolutely normal and arguably laudable. Just make sure they don't run away with you or make you feel dumb. Remember that feelings are not facts, and fleeting thoughts are not actions.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

Update: Hmm. I see that I myself feel a bit bad for thinking so much about love stuff. Love is rather important, so why shouldn't someone get a Nobel Prize for writing about it? Plato certainly wasn't ashamed of the Symposium. And it seems to me, looking out of my 17th century attic into post-1963 Britain, that the questions of love, marriage and family are more important than ever.

Until You Die

Kat of the Crescat has a crush on a Young Fogey. She observes that she is 35 and asks if she isn't too old for crushes. The answer, of course, is no.

The incomparable Nancy Mitford once wrote a letter (actually she wrote so many letters that it would take me hours to find it and copy it here) about being interviewed by a lovely young lady. Nancy had won international fame as the author of In Pursuit of Love and, as an aristocratic Englishwoman who lived in Paris and dressed beautifully, was a heroine to younger literary ladies. (They did not know, as Nancy did not know, that her lover would up and marry her rival, the beast.)

This lovely young lady asked all the professional questions and then, as you or I certainly would do, got to the important, personal stuff and shyly asked at what age feelings of unrequited love went away. "Never," said the almost-elderly Miss Mitford. The lovely young lady was bowled away by this remark.

This reminds me of when I was about 30 and terribly fit and the nurse examining me told me I had the heart of a fourteen year old.

"Tell me about it," I said.

And this also reminds me of my wonderful Canadian grandmother. My American grandmother never struck me as ever having been a girly-girl; food and family quarrels were much more her interests. But my Canadian grandmother was very chic and outgoing, hung out with a gang of friends, did her nails, had her hair done, and went away on holiday to a Muskoka resort, where she drank cocktails. She had been enormously in love with my grandfather, and although she was pursued by the occasional widower, she had no interest in marrying again.

However, when I was grown-up and divorced (and invalidated, as they say in Poland, not that my Protestant granny could ever get her head around that), and my grandmother was quite elderly, I discovered that this lack of interest in marrying again was not because Grandma had packed in her appreciation of the caffeine in the cappuccino of life. Not at all.

Grandma--my mother will kill me for telling this story again--Grandma on two or maybe three occasions panicked in the middle of the night over some pain or other and summoned an ambulance. The ambulance would arrive promptly and young male paramedics would rush to my grandmother's aid.

"And I said, 'Well, you're all very handsome'," related Grandma after one such episode.

"MOTHER," said my mother in an awful voice, and Grandma giggled.

"Why not?" she said. "And it all gave me quite a thrill."

"It all cost two hundred and fifty dollars," growled my mother.

"What?" cried my Scottish-Canadian grandmother. "Two hundred and fifty dollars?" She meditated on this and sniffed. "Huh. Some thrill."

Eventually Grandma "temporarily" moved from her house to the local nursing home for round-the-clock care. Instead of young paramedics, the place abounded with young orderlies, and even--as my Grandmother related with a twinkle--a handsome young masseur. I think the idea of therapeutic massage would have been absolutely scandalous to my grandmother when she was younger, but as it seemed to be one of the very few perks life offered to the 80+ set, she enjoyed it.

It delights me to no end that as an eighty-year old my grandmother had the freedom and confidence to flirt with the paramedics loading her onto an ambulance. I doubt, however, that she ever actually lost her heart to a paramedic or masseur, so maybe the pains of arthritis, etc., do cancel out the pains of unrequited love.

But it would appear that the feminine appreciation of masculine youth and beauty does not necessarily flee with the approach of old age. Thank heavens for that.

Update: Samantha drops another brick. Obviously she never read the works of Nancy Mitford. This report made me howl. Dear, dear. How odd to make money by soliciting hatred of oneself.

Giving Too Much

To continue the conversation begun yesterday with a passage from St. Edith Stein, I am channeling Cynthia Crysdale's Embracing Travail. Unfortunately my copy is in under a box under a lot of other boxes in a closet under a staircase in my parents' house. (When it came to shipping I made the heart-squeezing choice of china over books.) However, I do remember Crysdale's strong hint that "giving too much" is a particularly feminine sin, whereas "taking too much" is a particularly masculine sin.

We are all aware, I think, that being selfish is sinful, but we are less aware how giving too much is also sinful. But it is. It is sinful to be a doormat. It is sinful to "act like a martyr". It is sinful to be a coward. Cowardice is sinful.

Of course women are capable of being selfish, and men are capable of being passive aggressive doormats. But we women are usually quicker to ask "Oh, how can he take advantage of me like that?" than "Why am I allowing myself to be taken advantage of like that?" And the latter should be a serious question. Why do you allow yourself to be taken advantage of? What is it that you are getting out of it? What reward do you expect? And is that really fitting to you as a creature made in the image and likeness of God?

Germaine Greer's The Whole Woman (also in a box under boxes under stairs across the sea) also points to women's vast unquenchable torrents of love and need to give, give, GIVE. I seem to recall some poor granny or auntie she mentions knitting endless jumpers for younger relations who never wear them. Her hypothetical granny was not knitting for the pleasure of it or the pleasure she imagined the jumper might give to her young relation, but in order to give.*

The Rules, to add pop culture to this list of saint, Anglican theologian and feminist pundit, warns women not to give men expensive presents. Men are apparently suspicious of expensive presents and subconsciously smell in them an attempt to buy their affections. The Rules does not suggest this is a form of psychological transference, in which men impute their own sneaky motives to women. But neither does The Rules deny that women do try to buy affection with gifts.

Oh dear. The time (and money) I have wasted trying to find The Perfect Present for some male object of my affections. It makes me sad. With female friends, you don't have to look and scheme and dream. You just see something and know "Oh, that's just so Such-and-Such" and, if you can afford it, you buy it. You don't buy it as a symbol of your love or to remind her of you forever or to make an impact on her life. You just buy it because "it's so her", and she will enjoy it for itself, and that's good enough for you.

My husband hates "stuff" and doesn't read the books I bought him as symbols of our shared commitment to Thought, so I now I give him gin or whiskey and try to save for holidays abroad. So much for give, give, GIVE. Let's face it: when you're married to someone you love and who loves you, you don't have to give to get. You just get and give all the time without thinking about it much, and giving and getting are not in direct relation. Marriage is a remedy for all kinds of concupiscence.

So giving, giving, GIVING is more of a Single girl's temptation, and I'm sorry, I've been there, and it sucks. I know Single women who run themselves ragged trying to do something for everybody or everything for somebody, and I grieve for them.

P.S. There is, of course, a Golden Mean. As I write this, I am looking at a beautiful, cotton, lace tablecloth that took my mother over a year to make. It represents hundreds of hours of crocheting and is a Second Year Wedding Anniversary to B.A. and me. (We got our Third Year Anniversary present last year, as an injury slowed Mum down.) It is in the sitting-room because we wanted to show it off to our dinner guests without risking them upsetting wine on it. We absolutely love it, and as it is clearly in the family heirloom class, I have already mentally bequeathed it to my niece in the event that we have no children of our own.

I am sure I don't have to explain how it is fitting for a keen needleworker to spend a year making a tablecloth for her daughter and son-in-law's Second Wedding Anniversary but not fitting for a single woman to spend hundreds (or thousands) of dollars (or hours) on a similar tablecloth for her love interest.

Oh, Women! Oh, Men!

"Oh!" exclaimed a man at a party in abject frustration. "Oh, women!"

"Wave your hands around when you say that," I suggested.

He complied.

"Oh, women!"

I do not foresee that men will stop crying "Oh, women!" in confused frustration or that women will cease to shout "Arrrgh! Men!" anytime soon. At least, I hope not. If we cease to be staggered at the mystery of each other, we will certainly become bored.

Of course, when I say this, I immediately think of a young man named... Let me see. What will I call him? I think I will call him Jason. Something like a quarter of the Canadian men of my generation were named Jason.

Jason was a teenage pro-lifer when I was a teenage pro-lifer, only I believe he was 17 when I was 19. And I thought he was really, really cute. A lot of the other girls though he was really, really cute. He was a small-town boy, possibly even sort of a farming boy, and Protestant and also only 17, so he was not an ideal boyfriend for yours truly, the uber-urban, Catholic 19 year old Seraphic. But all the same I sighed a bit, as did all the other girls.

Sigh...

But we sighed in vain for he never showed any of us more than friendly attention, just as if he were a fellow girl, and then one day we had the most awful shock for out of the blue he announced that he was engaged to a 22 year old waitress.

Chagrin is one word that could sum up how we girls all felt about that. I in particular felt chagrin on account of having felt a bit of a cougar at 19 for having sighed over a 17 year old, and here he was actually engaged to a 22 year old waitress.

But one must wear the mask, and the next time I spoke to him, I congratulated him on his engagement. And he said--I have never forgotten this as it completely blew my mind--"I can't believe I've actually found a girl who likes me!"

MEN! Oh, MEN!!!!!

Bad at Relationships?

I had a letter the other day from a reader who claimed she was bad at relationships. The rest of her email suggested she had many healthy relationships. But of course what she meant was "man & woman & sexual spark" relationships.

A lot of my readers do that--you talk about being bad "at relationships" when in fact you have many healthy relationships: with parents, siblings, work colleagues, students, professors, priests, the waitress who serves you coffee every day, female friends and even male friends. I think, therefore, that you are psyching yourselves out when you claim that you are bad at "relationships."

One of the enduring problems of our age is that we privilege "man & woman & sexual spark" relationships above absolutely every other relationship. But I think they should just take their place humbly among our well-established relationships with family members and our old friends.

A husband, interestingly enough, is a family member; it is another problem of our age that we do not recognize this and that "man & woman & sexual spark" is no longer (in English-speaking communities) put in the appropriate context of expanding a family. When I met my husband, I soon realized how much my family would like him and enjoy having him as a family member. And I was quite right.

"Okay then," I hear various voices pipe up, "we're good at most relationships. We're just bad at dating relationships."

But again I don't buy it. What does it mean to be good at a dating relationship? Ideally a dating relationship is a man and a woman who like each other, and get a bit wobbly and excited by just seeing the other, getting together to share interests, like a film or the museum or a marathon or a hockey game, and also meals and conversations. And out of these experiences, they singly and then together decide if they should make some kind of formal commitment or cease to go about so much together.

Very often they decide that they shouldn't commit and they shouldn't go about so much together. One or the other just isn't feeling it. And that is not being bad at dating relationships. No-one is to blame if you or the guy just doesn't feel a lasting attachment. Yes, it's disappointing, but it's also disappointing when your ticket doesn't win the lottery. You can't hurry love, as the song says. You just have to wait.

Meanwhile, another problem is not you but the current culture of dating relationships. To make a grand generalization, many men are rather messed up right now, and therefore are not so much on the hunt for wives, per se, but for girlfriends/bedmates. The courtship process for getting a girlfriend is not the same thing as the process for getting a wife, and so it is very difficult for the Catholic woman who does not want to have sex before marriage to navigate male attention. Fortunately, around the age of thirty men (particularly men from traditional cultures or who have returned to the practice of their faith) are often tired of messing around and just want to find a nice girl with whom to settle down.

And the only way I can think of to put up with this state of affairs is to keep the bonds strong with the real relationships in your life--with God, family, friends, colleagues, the waitress in the coffee shop, et alia--so that you have a lot of emotional support while you carry on with your life, all the while with a beautiful little hope (and it is beautiful, if kept small and in proportion) for the right man to come along one day.

Meanwhile, the one thing I can see many women being bad at is being rooted in reality when it comes to "man + woman + spark" relationships. We meet a handsome guy who seems nice and our minds race to months or even years ahead. We think "handsome=good" and "friendly=into me". And then when we are confronted with reality, we too often sweep it under the carpet because facing it would be too painful. ("No, no, no. Anyone that handsome must be a good guy.") We mentally write out a little history of how the future will go and we write a character description for a man we barely know, and then we defend our little mental compositions from the reality of NOW and the reality of HIM, the real guy, a man invented by God, not Jane Austen, and conditioned by his masculinity and his experiences in life, experiences you know almost nothing about yet. And this is simply crazy behaviour. It's like deliberately setting out on a journey with the wrong map.

It would, then, behoove everyone to approach "man + woman + spark" relationships in the same spirit adult women make new adult women friends: with friendliness, with caution, with much thought, with slowly growing emotional intimacy, and in appropriate proportion to relationships with family and old friends.

Suddenly Over Online Romances

My poll was even less scientific as usual, for I forgot to leave room for control groups. Alas. Well, anyway, 40 people (not a big slice of my daily readership) responded to the "Online Romance Suddenly Over Without Explanation" poll, 36 of them women and 4 of them men. Of the women, 28 have suddenly discovered internet silence where a man used to be, and 8 have done disappearing acts themselves. Of the 4 men, 3 have been abandoned, and one did the abandoning.

For readers' take on internet dating, see most of the comments here.

I am not sure what to say other than that unless you are actually frightened of a person, it is very disrespectful behaviour to abandon a friendly relationship--even an online friendly relationship--without an explanation. "I'm just not feeling a spark" counts as an explanation. "I'm not comfortable with your anger" does, too, if that's the problem.

If a very embarrassing situation has cropped up, like you have discovered that Mr Perfect was your little sister's hapless prom date, well, this is the sort of thing that separates the women from the flibbertigibbets. You should explain the situation, being straight to the point. Men tell me that they'd rather be told the truth then left hanging. So tell them the truth.

But don't tell them everything about yourself online. A lot of women have the bad habit of telling strangers our business, and online it strikes me as the equivalent of telling a man the end of a thriller just while he is absorbed in Chapter 2. If he really wants to get to know you, and if you really want to get to know him, you can darn well meet down at the doughnut shop. If you live in South Bend, and he lives in Boston, well, you're going to have to compromise on which doughnut shop.

There was a comment that worried about leading a man on by accepting three dates with him. I don't think that is leading a man on. Making a man think you might go out with him when you know you won't is leading a man on. Making him think you might sleep with him when you know you won't is leading him on. Making him think you might marry him when you know you won't is leading him on. Everything else is just you saying "Yes" to stuff you actually want to do. As long as whatever it is (e.g. going to a film) is morally licit, there's no problem.

One of the odder things about women, I have noticed, is that we tend to feel guilty about stuff we shouldn't feel guilty about and then not guilty about stuff for which we should feel guilty. If a man flies to your city to meet you, and then you don't fall in love with him, you shouldn't feel guilty about that. If a man flies to your city to meet you, takes you to dinner, you are smitten, he regretfully confesses he isn't smitten back, and in your hurt you tell everyone he led you on, you should feel guilty for that.

Women and Symbols

I was trying to explain female psychology this morning, so there will be a lot of bold generalization appearing on this post. Explaining female psychology without a degree in the subject is also a dangerous thing to do. When a man begins a sentence, "Any red-blooded man would---", I always assume he is mostly talking about himself. And therefore, if I begin a sentence with the word "Women feel," would it not be reasonable to assume that I am talking mostly about myself?

But I am saved by the cardinal rule of this blog, which is that just because men behave/think/speak a certain way doesn't mean women do, too, and vice versa.

Anyway, my thought this morning is that women think in terms of symbols. My principal example is the frivolous, pretty, high heeled shoe. Why do so many women buy so many shoes? Why did the shoe obsession of Sex and the City (not that any of us ever saw a single episode) ring so true with legions of girls. Why do I and my girly-girl friends unwrap our shoe-purchases for each other's gazes with such shoe-venerating anticipation? Can it really be the shoes, or do the shoes point to some other reality, like Femininity, Attractiveness and Disposable Income?

I think crushes operate the same way. Women get crushes on men we don't know, and whom we even, with another part of our brains, dislike. We fixate like mad, daydream and then, after having an actual conversation with the man, go away feeling angry and disappointed but still fixated. What is with that?

Could it be that the crush has nothing to do with the man but something the man symbolically represents? Could it be a displacement for feelings of attraction to a place or time you are currently in? For example, if you are loving your holiday on the Dalmatian coast, perhaps the Croatian waiter who makes your heart race does so simply because he has become a symbol of your lovely holiday.

I think this works for other emotions, too. For example, I was once in a terrible state when B.A. and I returned from an outwardly pleasant evening out with a very nice former classmate of mine from my not very nice Ph.D. department and a much younger friend. I seemed to have plunged into an ocean of grief and loss. But when I sorted it out, I realized that on one level I had spent an evening with my husband, a friend and a former colleague, but on another level I had spent it with my husband, My Lost Youth and the Implosion of my Academic Theological Career.

I think this is also why women get so upset if we get a very lame present for Valentine's Day or if our husbands forget our birthdays or wedding anniversaries. It has nothing to do with "stuff"; it has to do with what the "stuff" represents.

Symbols can point in good directions, of course. I once turned down a marriage proposal from a Mr Almost (but not quite) Right, who was not a Catholic. One very strong influence on this decision was, quite unbeknownst to either of them, a classmate who was a male religious. Now, I knew that I did not want to run away with a male religious. However, I did know that I would really prefer to marry someone a lot like him--which is to say, a funny, good-humoured, devoutly Catholic guy. At the time, it seemed unlikely that this might happen, as I was already in my thirties and tick tick tick and blah blah blah. However, I decided that this was the kind of man I would hold out for, and I did. The male religious, bless his heart, was a symbol of the Good Catholic Husband, and B.A. is the reality.

Auntie Seraphic & Don't Crush On Me

Dear Auntie Seraphic:

A friend of mine is newly single, and seems to be paying me extra attention. I’m not sure whether he just wants more emotional support, or if he is crushing on me, but knows enough not to jump into a rebound relationship. Either way, I want to discourage him. He’s a wonderful person, and we have some nice things in common, but he is a bit too young for me, and just not someone I am attracted to in that way. I really cannot ever see this going beyond friendship.

This is someone I see nearly every day, as part of a small circle of friends who share class and social time. We are all in our mid to late twenties. I want to continue my relationship with the group as a whole, which is very supportive and important to me. Yet, when he is there, I feel more constrained and not quite able to be myself because of my suspicions.

I know that in the end, I can’t stop him from crushing if he’s bound and determined to do so. But I know how much it can hurt when someone leads you on…or even when they are oblivious, but kind of dumb about their boundaries. Is there any way I can be clear that I’m not interested in him without confronting him directly? Do your male readers have any tips?

Thanks,

Don't Crush on Me


Dear Don't Crush on Me,

Just as you cannot make a man fall in love with you, you cannot make a man not fall in love with you. This is the annoying thing about men: they do not come with a remote control.

One good thing about men, however, is that in many countries they are not allowed to touch you, take you out to dinner or marry you without your consent. They can think and wish whatever they want, but they can do nothing involving you without your permission.

It is not a tragedy that your young friend is paying you extra attention. At best, it is a compliment and at worst, it is slightly boring. But you can discourage him as soon as he gives you the first opportunity, e.g. when he actually asks you out on a date, if he ever does, or actually tries to hold your hand. The only "middle ground" I can think of--where it is not clear that what he might be feeling actually affects you in any real way--is if he is staring at you. If he is staring at you, go ahead and say "What?" in an aggrieved tone.

Continue to be just yourself, and for heaven's sake don't blame him for having a crush on you. A crush is as ordinary, and can be as brief, as a cold. Meanwhile, the best way to keep the group together and happy is NOT to create a drama out of this situation by talking about it to the group. For his sake, your sake and the sake of the group, don't gossip about your suspicions. And, of course, don't go out of your way to text, email or call him, for an extraordinary gesture is what is most likely to make him think you like him back.

Never forget that the magical words "No, thank you" keep you from going on dates or having to hold Mr Wrong's clammy hands. All you have to do is wait for the opportunity to use them.

I hope this is helpful!

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

One of the joys of people-watching is realizing who in your set has a crush on whom. There is, of course, an ethical dimension in trying to read the minds and hearts of those around you, so whatever you think you find out by observation, you should keep locked in your head behind the barrier of your teeth. The lesson to be gained from the exercise is that almost everybody--not just you--comes down with crushes, and also that people recover from their crushes, often very rapidly. It is very embarrassing when you discourage a guy with a crush on you, only to change your mind two months later and then discover that he has completely recovered.

Type Versus Reality

I had a hilarious conversation with a married friend the other day. For some reason we were talking about boys. You would think that married ladies over thirty would get tired of talking about boys, but we haven't. At least, I haven't, and maybe the other married ladies over thirty are just humouring me.

But anyway we were having this hilarious conversation in which the subject of Our Type came up. If you have lived more than twenty years, you know what I am talking about. Perhaps you have even said (for example) to a friend, "You know, My Type is six-feet-tall-or-over, dark-haired, blue-eyed, athletic but also intellectual." And your friend may have said, "Oh, well, I don't really care about height, but My Type is dark-eyed and muscular."

These do not, by the way, approximate Our specific Types. I can't tell you what Our Types are because of the next part of the conversation, which was when we fell about laughing because in the end we married men who didn't look at all like Our Types.

I wonder if this is a sweeping phenomenon, this being attracted to One Type and then happily falling in love with another. And I wonder if it is related! (A sudden look of existential horror has passed over Auntie Seraphic's face.) What if the very fact that we are attracted to Type A gives us the exact right amount of indifference towards Type B that makes Type B go to vast lengths to impress us?

And since the more attractive examples of Type B doing the human version of the blue-footed booby dance are demonstrably more lovable than dumb ol' hot-but-haven't-noticed-we're-alive Type As, could it be that our psyche gives up on Type A and just falls in love with this highly attractive example of Type B? Or is it that our psyche knows that Type A is fun for dreaming about, but that this particular Type B guy is the real eligible deal?

I don't know. I haven't done any social-scientific research on this. I almost never do any social-scientific research on anything I write here, poppets, which I hope you remember. I work from instinct, curiosity and memory, like Miss Marple.

By the way, when I talk about forgetting about Type A long enough to fall in love with Type B, I am not talking about settling. I am never talking about settling; I hate the whole concept of settling. This is the 21st century, and you shouldn't have to settle. In Western cultures, you either marry in an exuberant spirit of friendship-on-fire or you don't marry.

I once spoke to a deserted husband who said "I've known for some time that I wasn't the kind of man she wanted" and I felt so awful for him. No woman should marry a man with whom she is not madly in love. It is not fair on him, no matter what he says beforehand. He can't love enough for two, and I wonder who came up with that particular bit of nonsense.

No, all I am saying is that we women may have certain Types that we recognize when we see them, but that they have little to do with the flourishing female life as it is actually lived. And thank goodness that's true, or English-speaking men under 5'10" would never get married. I have never in my life heard a Canadian, American, Australian or British woman describe her Type as "of small or medium height." Yet men of small or medium height can make great husbands, as I happen to know first-hand.

And don't write in saying "But what about men?" because men aren't women. I believe, and this is based not on science but on hearsay, circumstantial evidence and personal experience, that men are much less likely to fall in love "out of Type." Nope. When Type B starts doing his blue-footed booby dance, it is because his psyche has perceived his Type A before him.

You Can't Hurry Love

Some of my most enthusiastic readers are women in maths and the hard sciences. As I never grasped the simplest algebraic theorem, I am in awe. I assume my math-and-science readers must have worked very, very hard to be so good at math and science. Yes, they probably had some native talent, but my guess is that talent could take them only so far and then they had to work their slender fingers to the bone.

Hard work can bring you many things: good grades, the praise of your professors, scholarships, great jobs, promotions, a clean house, a stunning garden, riches, a muscular body. But I'll tell you that there is one thing you cannot get by working and that is romantic love.

Forget it.

The kicker? Men can.

"Oh but Seraphic," I hear some of you cry, "that's not true. If I worked harder on my appearance, for example, or on my tennis serve, or on my dancing skills, or on my jokes my current crush object would flock to me!"

So not true. I know that the television and magazines have told you thousands and thousands of times that you can win male attention and devotion through hard work or the right product, but they are lying.


I had an email today, and it was a very interesting, gut-wrenching email. It was an email about a crush, and I have seen variations on this email many times in the past year.

To sum up the email and its variations, a very bright and talented young woman met an attractive man and, after a lot of friendly online chat, told him she had feelings for him. The attractive man said that he just wanted to be friends, although he would not rule out romance in the future. And far from this hurting the friendship, they talk more than ever. However, the young woman feels jerked around. How can she make the attractive man stop taking her for granted?

My answer, as always, was "Stop Being So Freaking Available." And, as always, I pointed out that my reader laid her heart on the line, and the man rejected it. End of story. Or that should have been the end of the story. When you tell a man you have feelings for him, and he says he doesn't for you, your response shouldn't be "Okay, talk to you tomorrow." Your response should be "Wow. I feel totally embarrassed. I think we should spend some time apart. Bye."

When you tell a man you have feelings for him before you have proof positive he has feelings for you, you may have done one of two bad things:

1. you may have short-circuited a slowly budding romance

2. you may have given a man an excuse to take you for granted.

Let us look at these two possibilities:

1. The conventional wisdom of the ages is that men value only that for which they have to work. If men were automatically given a Porsche when they turned 18, they probably wouldn't value Porsches all that much. They'd drag race in them and play chicken with them and heaven knows what else. Men also like having adventures and taking risks. They like challenges. When I was asked who would have dug up huge gravestones in a local cemetery overnight and switched them around, I pondered the challenge involved and said "bored young men."

When you tell a man who is paying you gobs of attention that you have feelings for him, you ruin the challenge. It's like telling someone who is happily reading a book the ending. Men need to wonder and worry and doubt themselves and listen to sad songs and risk having you punch a hole in his heart with your high-heeled shoe. The time to tell a man that you have feelings for him is AFTER he tells you he has feelings for you, NOT BEFORE.

2. Meanwhile, the world is full of men and women who get a kick out of being admired. It's a very human trait. And there are people who so enjoy the attention of fans that they even encourage them in their crushes without giving much in return. The half-promise of romance in future is the carrot to keep you hooked.

Such men and women might call this mind-game "flirting," but it's not fun for the person with a crush. It's insensitive. Sometimes it's even cruel. Girls sometimes get a bad reputation for this kind of behaviour; I think men get away with it more. I know one man who brags about the women who propose to him. Needless to say, I don't set him up with friends.

There is no magic elixir to make a guy fall in love with you. He other does, or he doesn't, and if he doesn't, there's nothing you can do---except switch your focus from him to you. You can't control him, but you can control you.

Stop thinking about X. X may be a nice guy, but unless he is a kindly man who is crazy about you, he is by no means marriage material. Think instead about how you would prefer a man to treat you, and stop wasting time on Mr. Thinks He's Too Good For You Right Now.

P.S. Once one of these "friends now, maybe romance later" guys I've been written to about eventually confessed to being gay. He may have been using my female reader as cover. It's a tough old world, ladies. Be careful.

A Good Word for Girlfriends

Darlingses, I think there may have been a wave of disapproval from a host of North American girlfriends last night because I was jostled awake at 5:00 A.M. British Summer Time, thinking, "I have to tell the Girlfriend Story."

Okay, so yesterday I indulged my usual snickers about boyfriend-girlfriend relationships which, I admit, are not entirely FAIR because, of course, most people these days have to go through a boyfriend-girlfriend stage before they get engaged. But you have to admit that most boyfriend-girlfriend relationships break up. They are transitory and ephemeral and painful and occasions for sin and...and... okay, sometimes they actually lead to the altar.

Now, it is true that B.A. asked me to marry him something like 10 days after we met in person, but I did not officially accept him right away. We agreed that that would be imprudent, so really I should go on to Germany to visit Volker, as I'd planned, and then go home to Canada and think about it.

Well, poor Volker. He had to listen to me go on about the fabulousness of B.A. and only put his foot down when I started discussing potential wedding dresses. He told me to call a girlfriend in Canada; he could not take such rampant feminine chatter anymore.

B.A. called me every night, of course, and as I giggled into the phone upstairs, Volker watched German television downstairs. Really, it is sad that the very best of my ex-boyfriends has had to put up with so much. Anyway, one evening B.A. told me that a woman he had met professionally some weeks before had texted him to ask what he was up to and to say that she had a "B.A.-shaped hole" in her life.

"What!" I shrieked, and possibly Volker turned up the sound on the TV. Poor Volker.

B.A. told the whole story again and I have to admit that I wasn't at all surprised that another women thought B.A. was the bees' knees.

B.A. wasn't sure what do to. Should he ignore the text? Should he reply to the text? And if he did, what would he say?

"Tell her you're busy planning your trip to Canada to see your girlfriend," I pronounced. "It serves as a friendly warning shot and has the advantage of being completely true."

I had decided, you see, that if there is a lag between "I want you to think about marrying me" and an almost certain "Yes", the people involved are boyfriend and girlfriend for the duration.

Anyway, B.A. dutifully texted his happy travel plans, and I believe that was that from his admirer. So what I would like to say today, which I did not say yesterday, is that sometimes "I have a girlfriend" is not only a true statement of fact, it is a gentle way of letting another girl down.

Auntie Seraphic & Wanting To Guard

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

I thought you have probably answered this question before, but I perused a few of the archives and couldn't find it. Surely I'm not the only one with this problem...

There's a NCB that is pretty popular around my town, and I've begun to see him more frequently -- at Sunday Mass, diocesan events, etc. I always knew he was one of those NCB that seem too good to be true -- a great man of God who goes to daily Mass, makes a daily Holy Hour, pours out his life for the Church, and is always friendly and full of joy. But I've recently had several chances to talk to him, went to a party at his house, etc, and now I'm beginning to get a little crush -- the first in many years.

I know I'm supposed guard my heart -- he's a very busy guy, I'm sure a million other NCG have the same crush, and we barely know each other -- but I'm wondering how concretely I do just that. I've been praying about it, but praying about it makes me think of him, which just makes the situation worse...

I've told myself that I'm not talking to any of my girlfriends about it, except for the one who was with me [somewhere where he was]. (I just couldn't contain myself on the drive home and spent most of the evening afterwards gushing to her about him...)

I know this reticence will help, but beyond that, is there something I can do? I know intellectually what I have to do -- don't chase him, don't daydream, be patient and guard my heart -- but just how do I do I guard that little heart of mine? A friend once told me to imagine putting the crush in a box, wrapping it up, and placing it on the altar. That's great.... but what if he keeps getting out?

Wanting to Guard


Dear Wanting to Guard,

Getting a crush is like catching a cold. No matter how warmly you wrapped up, someone on the bus or (especially) airplane sneezes at the worst possible time, and hey presto, you have a cold.

My mum says colds always last for a week. You have to drink a lot of fluids, stay out of draughts, dress warmly and put up with the cold for a week.

Crushes can last longer than a week. However, you can downplay their impact on your life by minimizing their hold on you. You've had crushes before and they've petered out. This one will peter out, too. Sure, you'll suffer in the meantime, just as you suffer when you have a cold and you have to blow your nose every minute and your nose gets red and flakey. But it will pass.

As you say, you don't know this guy. You know only his reputation, which for all you know is undeserved. But you are certainly right to admire the characteristics he is said to have. So don't think about HIM, think about the characteristics. Thinking about him (whom you don't really know, anyway) is like standing in front of an open window in February when you have a bad cold. So don't. Distract your mind away by saying (out loud, if possible) "I don't know HIM, but I know I admire devotion to our Lord."

If in dire straits (or even before), it is helpful to ask God to take away your crush. Here is a sample prayer you might try: "Dear Lord, I know You love me and know me better than I know and love myself. I can't get rid of this crush, but I know You can do anything. So please take away this crush. Also, help me to admire best those people who know and love me. Thank you, Lord, for Your great mercy and love. Amen."

I hope this is helpful. Life hurts, but no hurt is forever.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

P.S. Hit the little search word "CRUSHES" at the bottom of this post, and you'll find posts galore.

Auntie Seraphic & Cutting the Cord

When people think you're dating each other, but you're not, it's not cute. It's sad.

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

Your posts "Treated Like a Yo-Yo", and "Right Now Just Friends Man" really hit home.

I have been "friends" with a Nice Catholic Boy for longer than I would care to admit. By reading your posts, I have come to realize that as much as it deeply deeply hurts, it is time to say goodbye to the NCB. We text, call, and email almost everyday. Most people think we are dating, but we are not, and it has gone on all too long.

I know that I need to say goodbye to the NCB, but I also don't want to be rude and just drop off the face of the planet and not return his calls, emails, or texts. Like you said in your post, the "NCB wasn't wicked". He has actually been there at some of the most trying moments, I do deeply value his friendship, and all that I have learned in our friendship. He has been a good friend, even a great friend.

Once or twice I have thought of writing him a letter explaining that I need to step back and not have contact so he understands but have never followed through. So, all-wise Auntie, what is an NCG to do? How do I cut the cord without coming off as cutting and cold?

Most sincerely,

Cutting the Cord

Dear Cutting the Cord,

You might as well go for broke. He's your boyfriend in all but name and (I assume) kissing anyway, so this may call for one, go-for-broke, betting the rent money on one roll of the dice verbal question from you, which could be "So, want to be my boyfriend?" or "I was thinking of us getting married a year from June, what do you think?"

Normally I would never suggest this, but you are stuck in a total friend zone, thanks to all the daily phone calls, texts and emails.

If you're going to go down--and it looks like you're willing to crash-land the plane--you might as well go down in a blaze of glory. Obviously don't do this if your NCB is a priest or seminarian. But, frankly, if you two are such great friends--and you love him--why aren't you getting married? At least bring up the issue. That way, if it doesn't go the Hollywood way, and if you really never do want to talk to him again, he will definitely know why it's over. Anything is better than the slow death of love.

Yes, I am advocating The Talk. The Talk should not be dramatic or surprising or involve cupcakes with hearts on them as I saw quite horribly done on a British TV program about internet dating. It should merely be something like "We're such great friends; why aren't we more than friends?" (If he says, "Do you want to be more than friends?" Say "Yes." It's been more than a year; either he does or he doesn't. Time to find out.)

This should lead to an important conversation that might be painful, but might also bear a lot of fruit. If the outcome is that (for whatever reason) your friend wants to stay "just friends", you can gently tell him that, as much as you care for him, you need some emotional space so that you can find a husband. Be that blatant. Every woman called to marriage deserves a husband and shouldn't be impeded by less committed men from being available to real, honest-to-God suitors.

As I don't know if there are other women in his life, I have no reason to think he might be gay. However, I have to say that this is certainly one explanation of why a man might have such a close relationship with a woman without ever making a move. In the Catholic world, especially, such men are so terrified of rejection and isolation that they might take a very long time indeed before outing themselves, as one NCB eventually did to one of my letter-writers. If you have a sneaking feeling that this might be the case, I recommend reading "Always Our Children" by the American bishops.

The worst thing to do is to just try to starve the friendship to death. In your case, I really think it is time for The Talk. And I would say the same thing for a woman who has been dating the same man for a year without his ever mentioning marriage. One year, boyfriend or crush, is enough time to spend on a man who has no marriage intentions.

One last word about male-female buddy-buddy relationships. It's too late for you now in this case, but I think there is a real danger of falling in love with the wrong man when a woman's best pal is that man. Male-female friendships can be great, but I am very suspicious of buddy-buddy ones that don't soon blossom into romance.

I very much hope this is helpful. As a reader, you've been added to my Sunday prayer list.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

AND NOW: a special treat!

Dear Auntie Seraphic,

I just wanted to write to you and say thank you. I finally got up the courage to have "the Talk" with the NCB. The NCB was shocked to learn of my feelings although he has since admitted that he realizes he has been leading me on for quite some time. He found it quite shocking that I would want to step away from our friendship to guard my heart. I had to laugh. Hearing him say this helped me to understand how much I have been torturing myself. I am so peaceful now that I have been able to step away. We haven't had any contact.

Also, I should let you know that no sooner did I say goodbye to NCB then a GCM (GREAT Catholic Man) magically appeared in my life. While it has been a short time I have not met a man with more purpose, character, and chivalry than GCM. He has pursued me and made his intentions very clear.

I have you to thank, Auntie, for this new adventure. Had I not said goodbye to NCB I would have missed out on GCM! Thank you for reminding me not to settle and to have faith and hope that there are great Catholic men out there.

Sincerely,
Cut the Cord

Auntie Seraphic & Med School Girl

Dear Auntie Seraphic:

I am writing to you from [a small city in the prairies/outback]. I got your book
for my 3- birthday [recently]. I read the whole thing in a matter of a couple days, and I absolutely loved it.

I am also a practicing Catholic, and have recently been finding in myself a sense of peace. I have felt that: "I could never get married, even though
my heart desires this so much, and I would be perfectly happy. I just need to make sure I have someone to drive me to the airport when I need it, and other things like that. I guess that's what friends (and family when you're living in the same city) are for."

I read one reader's post on one of your blogs about the dangers of daydreaming about pretend relationships. I am *so* guilty of this. The reader quoted Wisdom to help illustrate what God does NOT want us to do.

My daydreaming was initiated once again after [a] trip [home]. I find myself in [small city a zillion miles from anywhere] because I am finishing my last year and a half of med school.

Anyways, why the daydreaming? My longtime friend invited me [to a family event at home]. I love her entire family. To make a long story short, I have held a flame for her older brother for quite some time. Yes, another thing I am great at: crushes. There has been a mutual attraction there, as we smooched after his sister's/my friend's wedding X summers ago.

Upon discussion, he admitted to having feelings for me but not wanting to date long distance, as X years at that time was an awfully long time to be living [many] hours away from each other. It's now only 1.5 years, and there's still "something there". He asked me how much longer I will be away for and when I said: "1.5 years", he responded with: "Still such a long time! Well, see you next time".

He's Catholic [and in the same way I am]. We have much in common, including similar families. As an aside, he was engaged to be married X years ago. She broke it off with him, and he was quite heartbroken. I'm not sure of the timeline of when she moved away, but she went on to [study far away]. Not sure if this prompted the split or simply followed it.

It could very well be that we wouldn't be well suited, despite all of my imaginings against the contrary. It doesn't help me to forget about this fantasy of us dating when his mom approaches my mom saying how all of his sisters were coaxing him to pursue me and date me.

Anyways, I guess I'm seeking advice on how not to:

- daydream about dating him when the situation is such that he's not interested in dating long distance (I realize that this may be a blessing in disguise given the busy nature of med school)

- keep my hopes up that things will work out "when the time is right" if I move back home

Thank you for your writings!

Sincerely,
Med School Girl

Dear Med School Girl,

You're new to the blog, so I will explain again that I always write back as soon as I can, and then often write a slightly different letter for the blog. This is often because I have different ideas later, although it is also because I'm then writing to everyone, not just the letter-writer. And, of course, I have to hide some of the particulars so that your friends who read "Seraphic Singles" can't tell who you are! Fortunately, the great bulk of my letters come from Australia, Canada and the USA and, as far as readers know, you could be from any one of them.

The problem of long-distance romances is an interesting one, especially when one lives in a place where the population is relatively tiny and the distances huge.

Having had some time to ponder your question, my gut instinct remains that daydreaming about this one is okay. Usually I am very down on daydreaming, but the facts that you are (A) in medical school, (B) where you are, (C) great friends with his family tempers my customary brutal cynicism.

If you are in medical school, you have no time for dating anyway, am I right? Daydreaming is all you have time for, and as this guy is your pal's brother, you are probably not turning him into Prince Charmingly Charming in your head, which is to say someone completely different from the man he really is.

I have no crystal ball, but it sounds to me like the brother has dog-eared you in the Rolodex of his mind. (The image is inspired by Carrie Fisher in When Harry Met Sally. She's got an index card with a guy's name on it, and when she finds out he's married, she dog-ears the card while saying, thoughtfully, "Married...", a funny-sad New York take on married men as only temporarily unavailable. But a single Nice Catholic Girl far away at school really is only temporarily unavailable.)

If he is still single in 1.5 years (a big if), I honestly think something may come of all this. It may not, of course. For all you know, you could date for six months and then you realize, to your horror, that he is so NOT the One that he more resembles that weird salt-sucking monster on Star Trek. But three things that your email makes clear is that (1) he's attracted to you, (2) his womenfolk love you, and (3) ain't nothing going to make him do long-distance again. This all adds up to a not unreasonable hope that romance may blossom in 1.5 years.

My sister-in-law is a doctor, and as far as I am concerned, a doctor-wife is a prize of inestimable value. Catholic and a doctor. Listen, if you weren't all the way out in [X], I'd want to introduce you to my own unmarried brother.

The one weenie super-moral suggestion I'm going to make is that you keep your daydreaming clean. Fade to black after Boy Next Door, whom you have rescued from orcs, takes you in his manly arms. This is because chastity is difficult--although possibly easier in situations (like med school) where you are tired and overworked--and sexy thoughts, novels, movies, etc., don't help. Also, you don't want to pounce on Boy Next Door like a sex-crazed gorilla when you go home. Tell his sisters you're home, and let him make the moves. (If he does. Sigh.)

Finally, your affections are not promised to your pal's brother in any way, so if in the next 1.5 years you are staring blearily in some acrid-smelling hallway at some red-eyed male classmate, and to your great surprise he blurts out, "How about dinner Friday?", go if you want to and can. Don't let dreams get in the way of right-now opportunities.

I do hope this is helpful.

Grace and peace,
Seraphic

P.S. To everyone else: Keep in mind I still think daydreaming about men prevents most women from being rooted in reality, which is what we must be. In a few cases, however, like in the case of an Antarctic explorer or (in this case) woman in an isolated medical school, real life so precludes romance, that daydreaming can't make things worse. And in this situation, I really do think, for once, that there may be somethin' doin' here. Am I getting soft, or what?

Imaginary Boyfriends

In her book The Girl's Guide to Break-ups, Delphine Hirsh makes the reader broken up with go through a reality check. If the girl has never actually been on a date with the guy, Hirsh advises counselling.

It is true, funny and sad that sometimes a certain woman believes that she is in a serious relationship with a man when that man has no idea of it. It is less funny, and just scary, if this woman becomes a stalker. But I'm not talking about women with mental illness today. I'm talking about ordinary women who are so in the grip of wishful thinking that they temporarily lose their own grip on reality.

I have a ghastly memory of a conversation in Paris, where I met up with a high-school era acquaintance many years after we had both left school. For many years I had had a serious crush on him, based almost entirely on my own confused ideas and feelings, and now it had returned. In this conversation, over a plate of blood sausage, I mentioned how marvellous it was that we had been friends for so many years.

"But we haven't," he said. "We barely know each other."

He might have added that we weren't exactly pals as teens, either. We might have run into each other weekly, but we had never had a serious, amiable conversation. It was all "Hey, how's it going?" and "Are you going to the dance?" and "So what are you doing this summer?"

His honest remark blew up the edifice of my imaginings like a dynamite-stuffed truck, and to this day I can't think of Paris as the city of romance. Now, Florence, that's a city of romance. Edinburgh is definintely a city of romance. Paris--no. Paris is a train station with North African men standing on the steps shouting in French at passing women. It's a performing artists' canteen with steaming subsidized mashed potatoes and blood sausage. It's feeling exhausted and overwhelmed in front of the tiny Mona Lisa. It's dyspepsia after too-rich a hot chocolate. It's where I hit reality with a bump.

One of the many, many problems with crushes, especially if they are allowed to go unchecked, is that they blind women to reality. Reality hurts, but suck it up, sweetheart, because living in a fantasy is a waste of life. And falling in love with a real-life man who really has fallen in love with you is so much better than fantasizing about Crush Object, that I don't even know where to start.

I'll start with ordinary human interactions. The fact that Mr. Brown next door, who is a genial fifty-two, smiled and said "Hello" to you is better than whatever dialogue you wrote in your head for Crush Object. What you got from Mr. Brown was real human interaction. Mr. Brown is real. God made him. Crush Object in your head is not real. You made him. And the more you refine Crush Object in your head, the less likely you will be able to see the man you're basing him on, the man, like ordinary Mr. Brown, made by God.

My great regret in life at the moment (regrets I've had quite a few, a few too many to mention) is that in my youth I placed too little importance on real, ordinary human interactions, and too much importance on my own imaginings. And yet real life is fed by real, ordinary human interactions. These are that to which we must pay attention.

And now I'll end with my usual realist advice. At this point, I should write it in verse form and have it set to music, but here it is.

1. Men are attracted to women they think are beautiful and elegant, so don't leave the house without making an effort. Accept that you might appeal to a niche market instead of the mass market. Play up your most distinctive features. Wear flats if you are tiny. Wear heels if you are tall. Think Audrey Hepburn if you are thin. Think Queen Latifa if you most definitely are not.

2. Men want what they want, and if they want it badly enough, they will make an effort to get it. So there's no point in you chasing them down. Go where your sort of men are and see what happens. Smile at the men who talk to you, and don't talk too much. Show polite interest in what they say. Say things a stranger would actually find interesting in reply. Pretty is half the equation, smart seals the deal.

3. If you think a man might be interested in you but needs a bit of encouragement, invite him to a party hosted by you and your friends. Touch his arm when you talk to him at this party. Air-kiss him good-bye, if you are the type who can get away with such shenanigans.

4. Wait.

5. If he does not call you up or text you within three days, forget him. FORGET HIM AT ONCE. Do not hanker for what-might-have-been. Be open to embrace what-will-be. God knows better than you 100% of the time. Save your fantasies for short stories, and change all the names.