Bro'ed In is the New Friend Zone

I got bro'ed in again.

I guess another term for it is "friend zoned', though I've noticed most women tend to hate that term and say it doesn't exist.  If it doesn’t exist then why do I feel like I was just friend zoned?

I don’t mean I just met someone and since I'm nice to them I expect sex/ dating to be the end result. I mean, I literally met him on a dating site, we've been out together a few times. He even built me a picnic table. And yet we're only 'friends'. I got friend zoned on a dating site.

He told me about a crush he has on a bartender at a pub we went to. Before we went in. On the way to bar he told me. And she was working. He flirted. I sat there. I felt horrible. I should have known better. I should have been prepared.

To be fair, before we met we both talked about our apprehension about online dating, and agreed to a non-date date. We went for a walk around the river. We walked for several hours, and around 7.5 km. Then we sat on the back on his truck and talked for another hour or so until it was quite late. We agreed to meet again. We had so much to talk about! So much in common, experience-wise even though we came from pretty different backgrounds. It was nice. It wasn’t stilted. He was cute. He was kind. He didn’t end things early. I let myself hope.

On this first "non-date" (that should have been a warning sign), I told him I wanted to get a picnic table for my yard. He offered to build it! So the second date/ non-date we went to a hardware store (which we both love). Then I offered to buy him lunch for helping me, so we went to a Mexican restaurant, and somehow even came across a mini-fair and he nailed the bell on the hammer game! I cheered for him and it felt surreal that we sort of had three-mini dates on the one! Well… non-date.

The third time, I got up early (for me) on a Saturday, and we hauled the wood I had spent the week staining to his place where he has a workshop. We spent the day in his workshop building and measuring (me mostly staying out of the way), listening to his music, and talking. It felt nice. Comfortable. We broke for lunch when we had to grab a bit more wood (I changed my mind on the bench width and he graciously accommodated). His mom was apparently a bit peeved he was working on a project for me instead of her deck. I could tell it bothered him that his family demands so much of him. I felt regretful I was taking up his time.

"Don't be. I do things for people I like! You're practically family now and I love my family!" he reassured me. I felt my heart lift. I ignored the "love" part because I was sure I had misunderstood.  Maybe he just meant he feels obligated to do things for his family and he puts up with it out of love, so helping me is not a big deal. But still it made me feel closer to him. A guy was happy to help me out. I'm not used to kindness.

It kind of hurt to write that down. To say it out loud. But it's true. I'm not the kind of girl guys go out of their way to help. I remember every instance a guy has bought me a drink in a bar because it’s been twice in my life and one of those was a friend’s boyfriend getting me a pity drink and being utterly surprised when I tried to pay him back. The second time I was so dumbfounded I bought the guy a drink back and he sort of went “huh”, and never did it again.

We finished the table and benches and hauled them back to my place. We were joking, and proud of doing such a big project in one day. Then we agreed to meet up with my roommate to go for dinner and some celebratory beer! I asked him to pick the place. I felt good. It all felt really good. We worked well together. Maybe next time would be a real date.

We joked on our way. I asked what was good on the menu.

He recounted his favourite things, and that he goes there regularly. And that it doesn't hurt they hired a new waitress because she was hot, and then he began to recount how he's tried to look good for her because he wanted to date her.

It felt like my heart dropped out for a moment.

He went on about a little story about how he had tried to impress her. I found myself kind of hollow laughing back. "Ha ha, yeah." I echoed, as my body numbed.

I was bro'ed in again. Already. Perhaps from the beginning.

I had told him when we first started talking that I realized I wasn't the ideal. I thought him a kindred spirit because his profile had said much the same. But it was his picture of him smiling up at the sun that had made me message. I had been about to delete my profile when he responded. We had good talks. Long talks. We would thoroughly go over our day, and appreciated how each added to the conversation.

He noted he wanted to take things slow. I agreed. I was not good at dating, and liked the idea of seeing if we could be friends first.

I can't even remember the first time I was bro'ed in. It's just something that seems to happen.  Guys don't see me as dating material. I'm always too loud. Or too intense. I've heard a lot that I'm intimidating. I've attempted to speak softer. Watch what I say. Be more demure. Be interested in him. Then I've been fed up with that, and gone back to being myself.  It still happens the same. "So there’s this chick-". They'll talk about a hot girl they saw. Or they'll tell me about their dating and how hard it is to find someone.

I got out of his truck and we walked in. She was working. He smiled. He joked. He pulled his weight as a regular to get us a giant pitcher of beer from her. I sat. I ate. I paid.

It was the last thank you meal for him helping me out. I offered to take him for beers and food. You know. Like a good bro would.

Commitment Issues

It's been a while since I posted, so there are a lot of thoughts in my head. Bear with me?

8-years-older than me guy is engaged.  I found out online, and while I clicked “like”, all I could think of was I really hope he’s happy.  We haven’t seen or talked to each other in ages.  I knew he was seeing someone since the beginning of winter.  I know he’s wanted to get married for quite a while. He once wept on my shoulder, crying that no one would ever love him how he wanted to be loved. I held him and said there are many kinds of love, and I that loved him. That he would find that love if he was looking for it. She must be age appropriate.

Less than a year? Is that all it takes? I remember my guy friends saying if they want something- specifically if they want to be with someone, they work to make it happen.  I can appreciate that, I’m just sad and bitter because I feel like no one will ever feel that way about me.

The guy I’ve been seeing for about a month now is British, and about 9 years older than me. I don’t care about the age difference, but I know we’re in somewhat different areas of our life.  He’s got a house, and a daughter, two puppies, and a stressful job.  I’m working for a temp agency and just moved again recently from an apartment to a shared house.  When we do spend time together, he’s funny and sweet, and caring.  I find he drops some things into conversation that I find rather odd for this “just being casual”.  Sweet things.  He jokes about needing someone to take care of him and do I know anyone?  I laugh and play it off. I try to ignore it, but I find I’m replaying them in my head.  Maybe he *is* more serious than he’s been letting on.

And then I see he’s reposted his ad.  And I deflate. I remember I’m not good enough.  So I remove the weight from his words.  I should just enjoy it while I have it, right?

Part of me also wonders if he’s saying those things to get feedback from me that it is okay.  That I want something more too, but I’m not responding right.  Or when I do, he realizes that he doesn’t really mean it, they’re just nice things to say.  I’m pretty confused about how to proceed.  Or do I give up?  Go for broke when I meet someone and insist we start out dating all proper like so I have a chance at forever...

But it’s been so long and no one has sought me out, so I went online and messaged someone myself.

And now we cuddle and watch a movie and I say something like how much I enjoy it and would be happy if I never moved again. And then he says he likes it too, but how will he know I’ll be there in a year?  But then, how do I?  Last week we were talking and he said how much I move and change jobs “freaks” him out. He feels if he commits to me I’ll lose interest, like he’s one of my apartments. I’ll get tired of him and move.  He has an incredibly valid point.

I replied that people and relationships are different.  The ones I want I keep with me.  That I’m seeking a good long-term job, don’t have plans to move anytime soon, and if I do I want to it be to a little house all my own forever.  I really do want those things.  It was nice to finally say.  Scary, but truthful.  He seemed a little convinced, but then there’s that ad, reposted.  And I hurt inside.  Because I was honest.

I’m tired of not being pursued.  I would like someone to chase me for once.   It’s very difficult for someone as transient and emotionally detached as me to say, but I want someone to take care of me. I want to take care of them back. It hurts to admit that.

I’m wanting forever, and I responded to a casual ad. I do it to myself.

Awkward Post is Awkward

Last night I was part of an awkward group hug.  I’m also the one who made it awkward, I realize, but it’s hard not to when the guy you like hugs you, and you know you can’t be with him.  I even said, “Awkward acknowledgement of hug” in case there was any question. I felt more awkward after I said it.  Awesome.

It’s almost been a month, but I’ve been missing him texting me all the time, and updating me on his life.  There was a few times when we hung out in a group, but it’s different than when we would sit together in his car, him sharing a song with me, or just talking.  I need to not dwell on that, but when you’ve almost resigned yourself to never meeting someone and then you meet a fantastic person who feels like your match, it’s crushing that they’re taken.  So I’m trying to get over it.  Trying.

A major reason why I haven’t seen him much, other than I think he’s trying to distance himself from me (which I understand), is things have been pretty hectic, family wise.   My uncle is in the hospital for the past three weeks, almost a month.  He was a fire fighter for twenty-five years who travelled all over North America coordinating large scale fire battles (is that what they’re called? If not, they should be.).  As a result he has two types of lung disease, Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disorder (COPD), and Interstitial Lung Disease (ILD). It’s common amongst fire fighters to develop these conditions.  And it doesn’t look good. 

So my aunt was staying with me in my tiny apartment for two weeks, and then over another week my cousins joined too, so there were four of us in my tiny one-bedroomed apartment.  I spent a good deal of that time on a camping cot in my living room, and driving them to and from the hospital on my way to and from work, and spending my evenings at the hospital.  I had previously considered med school and thus had taken a medical terminology class, and volunteered in a paediatrics ward when I was in high school, so I have a basic grasp of medical language.  Thus, I’ve been liaising a bit with the doctors and nurses on behalf of my aunt and uncle so they understand what’s going on and can make the best decisions in a terrible situation.

It’s been a tough time.  Last week we got them into a lodge (apartment building, really), across from the hospital, so that’s good.  They can walk over whenever they want, and I have my space back.  Man, have I missed my bed.  Not that I regret helping out.  I have a fairly large family, but so many of them are selfish or I just never connected with.  This uncle is one of the good ones, and I’ve always really gotten along with his wife.  So this has been rough.  My mum thanked me the other day for keeping her and the other aunts updated, and all I could respond was they would do the same for us. 

I’ve been trying very hard to stay strong.  For them.  For me.  But it also strikes me as weird that when tragedy strikes, I somehow become a robot who deals with the unpleasant side of things.  When my cousin died last year, that was me again, dealing with the police, doctors, coroner...  Now my uncle is in the hospital, and I had to explain to him and his wife that when they transfer him off life support to a BiPAP oxygen mask, things could go wrong so they needed to make some tough decisions.  It was the first time my aunt broke down crying in front of me because I couldn’t sugar coat that he could die right then and there. 

Nothing makes you feel shittier than destroying someone’s sense of hope.  But they had to be prepared.  Thank goodness it was a best case scenario where he’s doing much better on the BiPAP.  Maybe as a pessimist I insulate myself to the shit, but the upside is sometimes I’m pleasantly surprised.  It’s somewhat short-lived though, as his condition is so severe he doesn’t have much more time, but another day or two or week makes all the difference for my giving and loving aunt.  It’s been amazing seeing their love and dedication to each other through all of this.  Love exists.  I would have never fucking believed it, but there it is.

On top of all of this (But wait! There's more!), my dance troupe has a show this weekend, so I’ve been burning the candle at both ends.  Work.  Hospital.  Prep for show. Drive errands.   Rehearse.  Make sure my aunt eats.  Make sure I eat.  Updating my cousins on their dad’s condition because they don’t want to see him on life support. I find when I’m stressed my natural inclination is to push down feelings, and drink.  Those are usually opposing factors, so I’m feeling drained.  After this show, Imma sleep forever maybe.  Like being dead without the commitment, as I once read.

One of the strangest things that has come out of this, is that I found myself staring at my uncle as he was resting one night.  I had sent my aunt to get herself some dinner.  She doesn’t want to go to a real restaurant so she can be close to him.  I found myself wondering if someone would ever love me that way.  I found myself wishing, just for a moment, that I could take his place so they could have more time with each other.

Maybe that’s why I help in these situations.  It makes me feel something.  I can’t handle the emotions on one level, so I channel it into busy work.  To distance myself so I don’t really feel it, I throw myself in head first.

Awkward acknowledgement of feelings.

Crux

It’s a tough feeling to shake; not being good enough.

I know I’m a loner, but I really want someone to fall asleep next to and wake up with every day.  I find myself aching for a connection, or even a touch.  A hug showing me that I’m part of something.  That I am wanted.

I told Married Tattoo Guy how I felt about him as a way to cut off this growing attachment I have.  I could have never expected he would say he cared about me back.  I wasn’t ready for it, and he obviously isn’t either. 

I don’t want to be a mistress, but aren’t I already?  I’ve these feelings inside of me I don’t know what to do with.  The only outlet seems to lead down a terrible path. 

I’ve been trying to distract myself.  Some articles I’ve read show that when you have a crush on someone, it acts like a homing beacon for your thoughts, creating OCD like symptoms.  Forbidden or secret relationships also bond the couple closer.  It also throws off dopamine and serotonin levels making everything feel THAT MUCH MORE INTENSE.  That I can agree with.

I feel stupid.  I feel like I’m once again settling for less.  I’ve managed to find a new kind of unavailable.  Huzzah.  At least I’m consistent.

After wing night last week we were sitting in his car and we talked.  I needed to say I had to get over him, but didn’t want to lose our friendship.  Was that even possible? 

He told me how much I was coming to mean for him.  He had no one to talk to.  No one but me.  I believe that.  He seemed surprised by the revelation.  I get why he went back to his wife before we had even met.  His responsibilities.  He’s making three people happy over his own happiness.  He said how he’s no longer in love with his wife.  He told me how he told her that, but she was fine with the façade.  He was going to try and live with that, being unhappy.  Fulfilling his obligations.  And then we met.

I told him I care about him, but don’t want to cause any problems for him.  I told him how I don’t even know how he got past my armour other than it was so unexpected I didn’t even have it up with him.  Our connection was instant, and we were both surprised by it. I told him I couldn’t lie to him even if I wanted to.  I told him I never wanted to hurt him, but I can’t have these feeling for someone I can’t be with.

And then he kissed me. And I felt wanted.

Performing

I recently did an online personality test based on the writings of Carl Jung, David Keirsey and Isabel Briggs-Myers.  In University I had done a similar one (the MBTI), and I had come up as the only INTJ in a class of a hundred or so people.  It’s apparently a rare personality type (less than 2% of the population), and rarer still for women (0.8%).

My result: http://www.16personalities.com/intj-personality

My intent was to post this on my social network profile, but before doing so I read over the profile, considering it objectively in relation to what I knew about myself.  I had the same result as nearly ten years ago, so what of me has actually changed?  What hadn’t? What would I disagree with in the analysis? 

One part stuck out for me regarding an INTJ’s relationship with the spotlight.  I occasionally work as an emcee for a local dance company.  It’s a fun job most of the time.  I enjoy planning shows, coming up with intros and extros, meeting new talented people, the costuming, and being part of a production.  I get to engage with people, but from a distance, and essentially get to run things.   However when reading the comment about the spotlight, I felt an incongruence.

It has actually taken me quite a while to be comfortable with being in the spotlight.  I fell into emceeing because I was loud.  Seriously, I led an orientation because I had the loudest voice and everyone could hear me, and after that I used public speaking as a way to overcome social anxiety – sort of a trial by fire.  It kind of developed from there as previously I had preferred up to then to remain free to move about, not be featured (this is true for life and stage).  And honestly, when we began putting on shows, my desire to emcee stemmed from not having the confidence and desire to be a featured performer.  I figured I just talked until the real talent came on stage.  I still really feel that way.  When it came back to me that I was the main feature, linking the show together, I was surprised and rather terrified, and considered never performing again.  But then, one of the reasons I’ve done theatre my whole life was to get over those anxieties.  They do still visit me, though. 

Looking back at what I know of myself, I am afraid of being the centre of attention because as much as I (or anyone else) yearns for it, I do not feel I deserve it.  Call it imposter syndrome?  When I was told I *was* the show, it shocked and terrified me to my core. 

“But what if I let everyone down?”, was my very first thought. 

Mind, I had already done a few shows; but I honestly hadn’t considered I was any sort of feature other than distracting the audience.  It was a bit to wrap my head around.  It still is.  I say this because I have had so much going on in my life, I stepped down from the main emcee role about a year ago.  Since then, I’ve been involved, but finally emceed my first full show again this past weekend.  It was fun, but I notice all my flaws and flubs, and find it hard to believe when after a show audience members or fellow performers compliment me, tell my how funny I was, and what a great job I’ve done. 

I feel like I can’t believe them.  They’re just saying that because they recognized me.  That’s nice of them to make me feel included.  And yet, I’m having a harder time brushing those compliments aside since this time I had many approach me and say how much they’ve missed me as emcee.  A spark of me twinged, wanting so much to revel in the compliment, but I have a tendency to quash such feelings.  It’s not a good practice, and I am trying to work on it.

Actually, I’ve come a long way.  I used to hide back stage after the shows and not come down until everyone was gone.  I’d not acknowledge when I received a compliment, or even worse, I’d swear back (issues, ammaright?).  It felt painful to be complimented, but when you have self-esteem issues like I do, it’s a common feeling.  I think one of the reasons I keep doing the shows is to get outside my comfort zone.  It pushes me, and I desperately need that.  Performing still terrifies me, but I do it to help perfect the image I want to project; one of a confident, intelligent, funny woman, who is deserving of praise and love.

And yet, I still feel like an imposter.  I often hear “fake it ‘til you make it”, and similar words of wisdom spouted.  I thought after a while I would be more confident in what I’m doing, but I still have that nagging feeling.  Feeling that I’ve failed at a job severely highlights that disparity to me, which is probably why I’m still doing the shows.  I want to feel successful somewhere. 

Now I make myself mingle after a show.  I act confident (wine helps), and I smile and say “thank you” when I get a compliment.  I’m still not letting it really sink in, though.  I’m still blocking it from my heart.  In a way, I’m still putting on a show.

If I am to be Honest

I don’t want him to feel sorry, because I don’t feel sorry.  He asked a question.  I answered honestly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” 

“Yes. I do. But I can’t.”

I almost feel worse for doing the “right” thing.  It doesn’t stop how I feel about him.  It’s not stopping how he feels about me.  I messaged him back later the next day.

“The thing is I would like the chance again.  But I can’t while you’re married.  I won’t.  You’re not mine.  And I want you in my life, but I’d rather be a friend than a distraction.”

I almost hadn’t gone to wings that night.  I was tired from talking with Stunt Guy late the night before.  He was dealing with some issues, and we wound up closing the local pub talking it out.  I had some things I had wanted to talk about too, I just didn’t know how to say any of it.  So we hashed out his stuff.  I was tired all day, and had more side project work when I got home.

I had nearly convinced myself I was staying in when I got MTG’s text.  He and my former boss were the only ones who had showed up, and he was asking me if I was coming.  I could feel my will bending.  It’s a time of week I always look forward to.  More so now that MTG joins us on these nights.  Part of me was hoping he would text asking me to come.  Some nights we wind up for last call at the pub near my place.  I love those nights.  That night was one of those nights.

Usually I can’t make eye contact when I like someone.  But with MTG I find us staring at each other and then not looking away when we catch each other doing it.

I wanted to kiss him.  I still do.

Greener Grass

I’ve discovered that Guy I Swapped Numbers With But Am Afraid to Text reminds me of Shel Silverstein.  You know, that artist who wrote “Where the Sidewalk Ends”, and “The Giving Tree”?  It’s an odd connection to make, but I think it is suiting since this guy is also a writer of sorts.

I made the connection because he was lightly referenced in a little programme I’ve been watching called “The Girls Next Door”.  If you’re not familiar with it, it was a reality show about the live-in girlfriends of Hugh Hefner, founder of Playboy.  I’m strangely attracted to these shows, because of how much sexuality is flaunted, and how confident these women are.  Yes, they’re practically clones (one of the ladies states she was raised in a closing lab for Hef, haha), but man do they enjoy having fun.  They laugh very easily, and are thoroughly in the moment, which is refreshing to watch.  I think I take things far too seriously most times.  I can see why men would want to be around these women.  They’re fun.  They’re sweet.  They’re also catty to each other and their hierarchy, and not often the smartest, but they’re living in a mansion and ride in private jets so I can be jealous if I want to. 

Anyways, there was about five seconds were an old photo of Shel was shown, and the beard and serious looking but smiley face made me go, “Yep. Doppelgänger.”  I think I will tell him so next time I run into him.  I think it’s a compliment, so if he knows who and what I’m talking about, huzzah.  Yep.  Already planning casual conversation in case I run into him again.  I’d find it sad if it didn’t come in so handy sometimes. 

In weird news, I recently begun to wonder about a pattern I’m seeing emerge regarding married men. Specifically, unhappily married men, and their possible attraction to me.  Considering I’m usually not very good at picking up on male interest, it’s beginning to bother me, and I’m wondering if I’m imagining it, or what am I putting out there if this is the case?

I met a tattooed friend of a friend at our regular wing night a few weeks ago.  Tattooed Guy had been staying with my Stunt Guy friend since he was dealing with marital issues.  I actually have quite a few friends dealing with separation and divorce right now.  It’s not very reassuring for someone like me who can’t date to see these commitments fall apart. Flag:  trust issues.  It’s also tough for me sometimes to really understand how they’re feeling since I have not had a long-term relationship.  So I listen, and offer what support I can. 

Well last week, while chatting away this new guy confided quite a bit to me.  I’m pretty used to it (I often have more to hear than say when it comes to relationships), but it felt very intense, and he felt really focused on me.  He mentioned how being back at his house with his wife has made him so unhappy.  I get talking to someone new can be good since they can provide a fresh take on things, but part of me is worried that he may mistake this immediate closeness and my willingness to listen as something else.  Part of me is worried I'm mistaking it for something else as well. I do find him attractive, but I’m I have no desire to be a mistress. I say this as someone who found out that her first real boyfriend experience was really her first real mistress experience.  I mentioned trust issues, right? Yeah.  I really hope it’s not a vibe I put off.  I get along with guys, I try to be friendly like I do with anyone, but I’ve noticed that men who are in unhappy relationships tend to gravitate towards me.  Stunt Guy said it’s because I listen, and don’t wrap myself up in drama.  So I’m simple and that’s attractive? Weird.

This is the second unhappily married man who has confided in me in so many months.  Two months ago I had a weird… interaction? One sided conversation?  I’m not even sure how to word it.  As an electrician, he was in town for a month for a job, and we met for drinks or dinner every now and again.  We have friends in common from University, but he had joined the army and moved away, and since then most of our mutual friends have moved away so he called me up.  It was good, until it got very intense and weird.  A few drinks in, he would say things like, “Why is my wife even with me?” Sometimes I can see when people are fishing, but it wasn’t until our last hangout that he apologized for “making things weird” and did a series of long looks and several almost started sentences that I had to cut the visit short and go home.

I mentioned it to a friend of mine who has gone through similar things, and he said some people do leave their spouses for someone else. It’s an urban myth they don’t -but it doesn’t mean they want the person.  They want a reason.  They want what that person represents.  (Back story: Someone left their spouse for him, but that wasn’t what he had wanted, and eventually both relationships ended.)

I’m pretty dense most times, but I do not want someone to use me as a reason to leave their wife, especially when it’s not me they really want.  They want what they consider easy and drama-free.  I guess someone like me who doesn’t have much relationship experience, and thus lacks that dating drama would seem less emotionally draining.

When did I become drama-free, interesting, and seductive? Wtf. How do I turn that to single guys I like?

It’s been a weird time.