A wise woman once said, "Tell people what they want to hear, so they will give you what you want." That woman was Paris Hilton. This tactic may work wonderfully when trying to convince your middle-aged hotel magnate father to give you a new Rolls Royce for your birthday, but when it comes to love and relationships, telling someone what you think they want to hear can be the worst thing of all.
You may recall my excitement about the prospect of a casual sex partner, which sprang from Mardi Gras debauchery. Well, I should move on to horoscopes apparently, because it was exactly one week later when my not-so-special someone told me that he thought we should slow down because he "liked me." I couldn't help but feel like I had jinxed myself somehow. I rolled off of him, explained how I hadn't really expected anything, but consented to slow things down.
Fast forward to last weekend and we had fallen into a sporadic routine of sleepovers without sex. Up to this point I had followed the rules perfectly. You only call when you have a reason, want to make plans or are returning their call. You are allowed one text message per day but must wait if it isn't returned. I didn't call over Spring Break, nor while he was away the following weekend. I have mastered the game.
But there comes a point in every pseudo-relationship when the question has to be asked: "What are we doing?" Maybe it was a sudden urge to justify the meaning of us not having meaningless sex. Maybe it was just insecurity. Maybe I was subconsciously looking for a way out. I know this is the one question you aren't allowed to ask when you want things to develop. So then why did I ask it? I didn't know then, and I don't know now. What I do know is that I did not like the answer I got. "Well, I just don't know if I want a relationship right now."
I was silent. On the inside I was screaming, "THEN WHY HAVEN'T WE BEEN FUCKING?" When my interior monologue quieted down, I explained again how I wasn't expecting a proposal, just wanted to know that I wasn't changing my underwear on a consistent basis for no reason. Once again I told him what he wanted to hear, gave him the space he wanted and for some reason, I felt destroyed inside.
Every time my friend and her ex-boyfriend fight, it's never more than a day before she calls to apologize. She can't stand the thought that he will remain mad at her for an extended period of time, or will not be a part of her life. My relationships with my friends are very similar, but I have never deemed a lover that highly. When the game is over, a handshake or a parting wave suffices.
We tell others what they want to hear even at the sacrifice of our own feelings, because when we do make our true feelings known, our honesty is rarely rewarded. We are viewed as weak, as the submissive half in the relationship, and our power is lost.
But that's only if you believe in playing the game. Even though I was following the rules, I had completely switched teams. I used to forfeit at the first sign of commitment and this time I stayed on the field. It isn't over yet, but it's hard to judge whether a victory is really even possible. Do you keep playing when the game could never end, or do you call it a day while you still have your pride?
If we want to get what we want, we have to use careful judgment when it comes to telling others what they want to hear. It can be just the thing to get them in bed or call us back, but if it leaves lacking what we desire, have we really succeeded? Paris may be knowledgeable in many areas, but I think we all know that her theorems cannot be applied to love or relationships.
