Your Ex-Boyfriend Will Hate This (2015)

Chapter Nineteen

Reflecting on Your Reflection

Having gathered the lessons from your last relationship, you’re prepared to move on. You have a firmer idea of who you are and who you want. You may not write your ex sonnets of gratitude, but if you examined the relationship postmortem, he’ll have taught you something, even if it’s only how and why to avoid guys like him.

So what’s next?

Earlier, you created a list of the qualities you most desire in a prospective mate. I then asked you to create a comparable list of the qualities most often present in your past boyfriends. Finally, I asked you to compare your stated desires against your reality. How’d the two compare? If you weren’t happy with the comparison, in what areas did your exes consistently fall short? If the failings were numerous, what does this tell you about your ability to communicate your desires? What does it say about your sense of self-worth? Or is the core issue something deeper—that you haven’t been honest with yourself about what is really important to you? The answers may not have been flattering, but if you addressed the questions in earnest, you learned something valuable about yourself.

Having addressed your ability to articulate and pursue what you want in another person, let’s turn that same unsparing analysis on the person you are right now. The “right now” is important, in light of the fact that who we are is somewhat flexible. No, we can’t recreate ourselves completely. Our DNA makes a top-down transformation impossible. We all have natural traits, and many of these just aren’t negotiable. For instance, you aren’t as tall as you feel. You can tell everyone within shouting distance that you feel seven feet tall, but if you’re 4’6”, you’ll never win a slam-dunk competition.

As a side item, it’s worth pointing out that you’re not (as a popular axiom would have you believe) as “old as you feel,” either. We’re as old as the number of days we’ve been on this planet. We can fool ourselves, maybe even fool some of the people around us, but gravity and cellular decay will have the final word. Forty isn’t “the new thirty,” nor is any other age “the new (fill-in-the-blank).” I’m forty. My mind is still strong enough to remember thirty vividly, but I’m not thirty now. At that age, I used to get carded for alcohol purchases on occasion. (I’ve always had a sort of boyish face.) If I get carded now, I know that I’m the object of cruel sarcasm. What once I found flattering now urges me to punch the smirk off some college kid’s face.

(Note: I’ve never punched anyone for sarcasm, no matter how much it hurt my old guy feelings.)

I don’t point out my own experience to be mean. Chances are good that almost everyone reading this is younger than me. If you’re older, I hope you won’t misread my thoughts about age as a slight. Though our culture condemns us to cultural irrelevancy not long after thirty-five, there’s ample reason to celebrate the loss. Letting go of our (wildly overvalued) youth means letting go of the angst, the frustration, the idiocy, and the knee-jerk resistance to meaning that’s the curse of the young.

What I failed to realize when I was twenty-five is unmistakable now: irony is a lousy immunization against hurt. The air of cool detachment I spent half my youth cultivating proved powerless against the anger, heartache, disappointment, anxiety, fear, and sadness that are an inevitable part of growing up. Framing life in fashionable cynicism didn’t spare me any pain, although it was remarkably effective in keeping joy at bay from time to time.

I spent most of my first thirty years seeking a vaccine against adulthood. I tried every mind-altering panacea available to me: sex, work, relationships, material greed, politics, books, movies, art, music, philosophy, mind-altering chemicals (some legal, some less so), religion, and on and on and on. Finally, I gave up trying altogether. My failure to become a rich and famous writer in Los Angeles verified my worst suspicions. I was nothing like the heroic figure I envisioned as a kid. Behind the arrogant bravado was little more than empty posturing. I was more persona than person.

Reflecting on a stretch of my life in Hollywood after grad school, I can think of at least four different occasions when I was pretty sure I was going to die. I won’t go into the specifics for fear of accurately depicting my wanton ignorance, but believe me when I say that I’ve seen my life flash by at least four times. (At least I think it was my life. Most of these memories are so thoroughly soaked in tequila, ecstasy, and stripper glitter that conclusive ownership is difficult to prove.) I thought of myself as fearless at the time, but bravery had nothing to do with it. The truth is that I never expected to see thirty.

Back then, if anyone asked me if I invested in the stock market or a 401K, I told him or her that saving wasn’t necessary in my case. My entire financial strategy was based on dying young.

I mention all this to give you an insight into the pitifully low expectations I set for myself and thus to highlight the urgency of rigorous and honest self-appraisal. I never took an honest look at myself or the direction my life was taking until well into my thirties. That I survived all my desperately foolish behavior isn’t a validation of my choices. The truth is quite the opposite. The worst punishment for having a death wish isn’t dying. It’s getting stuck with the consequences of your rush toward the grave.

Take a look at your earlier worksheet of ideal qualities in a mate. They form the sum total of your “perfect” man. Now ask yourself how many of these qualities you have. If patience is important, is it because you yourself are a patient person? If kindness is necessary, are you committed to repaying it in kind? Asking yourself these questions will go a long way toward establishing whether your expectations aren’t only realistic but also fair. If you expect your partner to be someone you’re not, your expectations may indicate:

1) You want someone who is similar to you, but different in a few key areas.

This can suggest self-doubt or discomfort with embracing your own vulnerability. It may also highlight personal flaws that you wish to correct or negate by associating with someone who lacks these same flaws (like being a messy person who prefers to date people who are scrupulously organized, for instance).

2) You want someone who is the opposite of you in almost every conceivable way.

This desire is a bit more troubling, as it could indicate a measure of self-loathing that this book is ill-equipped to fix. If this is the case, I suggest either intensive therapy or high-impact kickboxing in advance of the mating process.

3) You want someone who the opposite of you, not because you hate yourself, but because you insist on holding others to a set of standards that you have no interest in adhering to.

This wish is also troubling and outside the purview of this book. Look for my follow-up book, Your Ex-Boyfriend Will Need This.

The truth is that even the most fair-minded person has a tendency to overlook his or her own shortcomings compared to others’. A survey of twenty-six thousand men and women by MSNBC and Elle Magazine asked participants to rate their own physical attractiveness on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 signifying “international supermodel” and 1 signifying “repulsive hobgoblin.” (No, that wasn’t the survey’s official language.) Most respondents rated themselves between 6 and 7, with 30 percent of those under age thirty rating themselves an 8 or higher.[lviii]

Either they just happened to be twenty-six thousand particularly hot ladies and gents, or we have a tendency to give ourselves a bit too much credit. Having not seen the sample group, I’m willing to allow for the former, but I would bet on the latter. I’m sure there have been countless times when I thought a girl was checking me out but, in fact, she was trying to guess what kind of leafy vegetable was lodged in my teeth without my knowledge. One of the wonderful things about the human psyche is that it shields us from strangers’ true thoughts about us. If that means I erroneously feel like James Bond despite having a Brussels sprout hidden in my molar, I’m willing to go with it.

As endlessly sexy as I know my readership to be (you especially!), it’s statistically impossible for us all to be above average. Some people just have to be average. Your author is such a person, and he has even become more comfortable with his visual mediocrity. Besides, everybody knows that authors don’t have to be beautiful as long as their readers are. (Please note that the burden of breathtaking hotness at book signings is squarely on your shoulders. If you’re counting on me to carry the gorgeousness load, we will both be disappointed.)

The good thing about our swelling egos is that we’re generally charitable to our significant others also. The same study found that 85 percent of young women and 81 percent of young men were happy with their partners’ looks. (The survey also validates my personal theory that there are roughly four percent more assholes among young males than young females.) The survey was even more encouraging as it pertained to body image, with the majority of respondents rating their partners’ bodies higher than their own. Asked for comment on the study he co-authored, psychology researcher David Frederick of the University of California, Los Angeles said:

“Even people who were dissatisfied with their bodies were satisfied with their partner’s body. There’s some degree of reassurance that we are our harshest critics.”

That’s good news for both sides in the war between the sexes. Perhaps future genetic science will isolate the “fat paranoia” gene and get rid of this bastard along with the cheating one.

So what do we look for in the people we choose to be naked with on a regular basis? Despite all that “Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars” junk, we all want roughly the same thing. (I guess Men and Women Are from the Same Planet, Because Only One Planet in Our Galaxy Has Sufficient Atmosphere to Support Human Life wasn’t a terribly catchy title.) A paper entitled “Sociosexuality and Romantic Partner Choice” documented a study asking men and woman to rate the importance of fifteen different attributes in determining a prospective mate.[lix] Respondents of both sexes valued mates who were physically attractive, had a pleasant disposition, and who possessed beliefs and core values akin to their own.

Men were slightly more likely to place an emphasis on physical characteristics, a finding that shocked the Institute for Things That Are Painfully Obvious, although no one else. Women placed a bit more value on traits like kindness and earning capacity, but the gender differences weren’t extraordinary. One of the most popular myths propagated by dating books inferior to this one is that men are inscrutable alien creatures whose desires and motivations are beyond the understanding of anyone with a Y chromosome. If you honestly believe this, let me save you a lot of wasted time and money. If you want to know what guys are really like, heed the following instructions to the letter:

Go ask one.

I don’t mean take samples of the male population from various locations, ages, and walks of life, and then compare and contrast them. I mean ask one, as in a solitary unit. As long as he isn’t clinically insane or missing essential chromosomes, his answers should tell you as much as you require to unravel the unfathomable complexity of those curious, penis-wielding creatures you see around you. Spending more intellectual energy than that is like fretting over the recipe for a peanut butter sandwich. (I intentionally omitted jelly from the sandwich and will leave it up to you ladies to need vagaries like molasses.)

If you’re still confused by those strange life forms trying to buy you mixed drinks at your local tavern, a poll of two thousand men asked them to state the top ten traits they find attractive,[lx] including:

· Soft-heartedness (the male equivalent of kindness & consideration)

· Modesty (known among my gender as “not acting like a huge dick”)

· A pleasing voice (including, but not limited to, enjoyably evocative communication during intercourse)

· Facial features (see same note as #3)

· Hair (insert vulgar joke here)

· Skin tone

· Weight

· Blah-blah-do-I-really-need-to-keep-spelling-it-out-blah

Finally, an exposé that reveals what’s behind the curtain! Men are rather fond of the way women look, including their skin and hair! If we could just access their secret meetings, we might discover their opinions on breasts too!

I can’t reveal the source without compromising his safety, but I think I’ve located a whistleblower who’s willing to talk off the record…

If I’m being a little glib, it’s only because I believe some ink has been spent on these specific questions before. In my experience, I’ve found that most women understand most men perfectly well, beginning with an understanding and healthy appreciation for our basic simplicity. Beyond that, it’s only necessary to retain mastery of the subject by accepting what you know and avoiding getting struck by anything heavy enough to trigger amnesia. Believe me when I say that there are more interesting and complex quandaries present in the Hardee drive-through menu than are present in the average male brain.

Trust your observations and act accordingly. If you find yourself second-guessing us, back up one guess. In most cases, one is more than sufficient. Stay the course. My gender is just begging to admit we’re outgunned and turn over the reins in perpetuity to a benevolent matriarchy. Half of us never wanted to leave the nest in the first place; at least a gentle takeover would allow us to retain some dignity. Our gender entire history is predicated on a series of increasingly embarrassing admissions of fault.

On behalf of men everywhere, please stop us before our apology becomes an extinction-level event.

In the next chapter, we’ll discuss how to get ahead by never moving an inch.