There are ways to stop running away from relationships and let yourself love and be loved!
Everyone knows about the commitment-phobic guy, but what's really not talked about is the woman who shies away from a true connection. Not long ago, "Marin" asked me how to handle her avoidance of relationships. Witnessing her parents' divorce and experiencing the resulting trauma in the family, she'd made a conscious decision to make sure she never found herself trapped in a bad relationship. Like so many in her shoes, she was confusing the issues, and making choices based on the wrong criteria.
They aren't all hard-wired to spread their seed, and other important truths you need to know.
When I set out on a quest (for my book, 'Are All Guys Assholes?') to prove that guys aren't actually as bad as we assume, I thought women would embrace the message as good news. "Guys actually want relationships and care about more than just sex? That's awesome!" Instead, many of them have wanted fight me on it. I've been met with an army of "evidence" seemingly suggesting that my own research is wrong, and that the stereotype we have about men being commitment-phobic, sex-fiends is firmly rooted in scientific fact. The problem is, many of these so-called facts have been used to jump to faulty conclusions.
Are you using the law of attraction to make a certain person love you? This is why it doesn't work.
Are you using the law of attraction to make a certain person love you? This is why it doesn't work.
A big misconception about using the law of attraction to get what you want in your life is that you can use techniques to make a specific person love you and want a relationship with you. I get so many emails and requests for tips on how to make a person love them, be more interested in them or finally commit to them. Sorry, but you can only use your will toward yourself; you cannot manipulate others to love you.
Women can fake orgasms. Men can fake entire relationships.
This juicy tidbit marking the romantic distinction between males and females recently made its way onto my Twitter feed. Enjoying a brief chuckle after reading it, I soon realized how closely this alleged truth hits home: my friend Jay is in a fake relationship and I’ve been wondering if I should tell the girl.
Is your man afraid of marriage? What it's like to love someone with commitment phobia.
"I would never pressure someone into marriage," I said, with the wisdom of all my 26 years. "Not to bash your ex-girlfriend, but how could she want to marry you if you weren't thrilled at the prospect of spending the rest of your life with her?" Over the next four years, I found out. I became her: the embodiment of everything I pitied.
At a
party weeks back, my friend Angela fell for a handsome Brit named Al
after he charmed her with tales of his off-the-beaten track existence
traveling the world. The next evening, they talked life and politics
over a steak dinner then agreed to meet again.
Al
charmed Angela even more the next afternoon when he canceled plans with
his buddies to join her on a trip to Verizon to get her phone fixed.
After spending the afternoon and subsequent evening together, Angela
thought she’d finally met a mature, baggage-less man with whom she could
have a relationship. If only she knew.
During
a dinner party the following Friday night, Angela reached for her phone
to discover Al had called. Six times. Though a bit ruffled, she
decided to make her way to the bar where he was drinking with friends.
When she arrived, Al was completely hammered, saying things like, “I
shouldn’t have called you, are you angry? It’s just I couldn’t get
Jack and I had our first romantic interlude on the 4th of
July. Back in college, going out with someone usually meant deciding
to end up in the same place, so I wouldn’t have called it a proper
date. We met at Boston’s Charles River Esplanade, watched a couple
bands and some fireworks, then Jack leaned over and said, “I dig you.”
The rest was history.
Over the years, I’ve come to believe relationships are meant to
teach us how to relate authentically yet continue to be our most
genuine selves. Some folks need to learn selflessness, others
intimacy, and some just need to learn to put the toilet seat down.
Kicking off my relationship life on Independence Day with Jack was
hardly an insignificant twist of fate. This first real love set me off
on an endless quest to learn the meaning of freedom. See, Jack already
had a girlfriend. Thus, our year-long liaison was an education in
For the second time this year, my friend Kim has had to tell a guy who offered to pay her for sex to get lost.
Though Kim is no bombshell, she’s certainly real-world hot. Great
bod, killer personality, enough sexual dynamism to ignite World War
III. Men write poems to her in European cafés, chat her up in bars
despite the presence of their wives and girlfriends, and friend her on
Facebook to tell her she’s still their “best” even if it’s been decades
since their roll in the hay.
When Kim was younger, she liked being a sexual supernova. No shame
felt she for her wanton ways, her colossal lustiness, her
stereotypically manly ability to separate sex from love. She wasn’t a
man stealer or desperate fool. Kim was a healthy sexual being, as whip
smart as she was sensual, as capable of meaty conversation as she was
blowing minds in the sack.
Then all in the same week, stuff happened. First, she had to tell
I love my mom. But I think I’m going to have to cut her loose. Apparently, she’s destroying my love life.
Lots of women have mothers who nag them about their figures, wonder aloud why their daughters haven’t found a decent fella or tsk disapprovingly about the way they raise their kids. Not mine. For the most part, my mother leaves me to my own devices. Or so I thought.
According to a study by the University of Western Australia, the overt ways mothers try to influence their daughters’ personal lives don’t hold a candle to their more dire biological hand-me-downs. Scientists studied the DNA of 150 college students and found “the more varied [her] genes…the more boyfriends a woman was likely to have,” the assumption being genetic variation leads to attraction.
If you’d like to figure out what’s wrong with you relationship-wise, don’t read a self-help book. Get an online bank account.
Every time I log into my checking account, I’m asked a “security question,” the answer to which only I’m supposed to know, so the bank can confirm my identity. Thus far, the only question the bank has asked me upon logging in is the name of my first boyfriend. And what a joy it is to be forced to recall that relationship on a regular basis.
