Healing Heather (Heather Strang) sees the situation totally differently. She advised me to consider that my evaluation of the events described are a reflection of fear which may or may not be aligned with the truth. Heather suggests that its my fear of a good thing that has enlisted my intellect to convince me that I was tricked. Basically, it's like I am unable to accept something good happening out of fear. It's possible. I simply can't fathom any other reason why someone did what they did.
My friend in London would respond to the same experiences as I like this: just another man who may have had a benevolent curiosity towards her. I can see why she would perceive things that way. My friend looks like the young Angie Everhart and I'm still the overweight ugly duckling from the middle of nowhere, completley invisible when it comes to the whole dating scene, regardless of what I look like now. Even if I could pass for the identical twin sister of the French-Vietnamese actress Berenice Marlohe I would still feel this way.
Heather suggests that I'm still holding on to my past perceptions formed when the reality of my youth in the Rockies taught me ... unless I looked like a Baywatch female cast member, I'd never get asked out on a date. She asked me to consider if my intellect is reinforcing this belief system because my identity is fundamentally attached to keeping it alive. Why? Perhaps I just can't accept that not looking like Brande Roderick doesn't render me invisible. She hints that I'm terrified as a cover up to the root of the fear: I'm unlovable because I'm flawed in some fundamental way but I don't know just what it is.
Epilogue: It's too bad. Had he been sincere I would have, in the song by another Irishman named Ronan Keating, believed again.The miracle in all this is if one day I could see this entire incident the way Heather already does. Heather still says that he wasn't a wolf at all. She actually thinks he may be a German Shepherd. The German Shepherd is my heart breed.