dating – My Mental Model

I Read a Book Under A Tree Today

First time for everything right?

I’m now being pillaged by my allergies so perhaps it was a questionable decision.. but this is more about the mind-state that took me there.

Back in my mid-20s, I moved away for work. It was supposed to be this big step up in my career, while bailing out the company from an unfortunate position. Within 3 months of arriving in a new town, my dad died, my girlfriend broke up with me, I tore my shoulder, and the company turned its back on me. That was rough. It was the first time I realized how fundamental these parts of my life were to me.

This past weekend, I spent a couple hours on the beach with a friend. First time I had done that in years. Little silly when you consider there’s about 15 beaches within 30 minutes of here. My friend asked me if I wanted to know about my spirit animal. Neither of us took that stuff very seriously, but sure, why not. Apparently I’m a snow-goose. I suppose that’s better than a #cobrachicken. The description was rather interesting. Some things were rather accurate while some things weren’t. But the parts which weren’t accurate were reflective of a younger me. Perplexing how such accurate assumptions can be made of me with no input beyond my birthday.. as if nature nor nurture played a role. The one that stood out that day was how I won’t look to bring someone into my life until I have things sorted out.

In January of last year, I got tossed out by a investment banking career I had committed my life to. A month after that, I wrecked my left arm. A month after that, I broke up with the girl I was dating. A month after that, I moved back home. I had some things to sort out.

Fast-forward a year… things are starting to come together.

While not without its challenges, I’m in on the ground floor of a business with tremendous potential. We’re on the verge of closing our capital raise and once this happens, we can actually afford to pay ourselves a real income. While a little banged up here and there, I’m still in good enough health to play sports 5 days a week. Rumor is I’ll get a long-overdue belt promotion at BJJ this weekend. While not perfect, I’m at a great place with my family. My grandfather died a few weeks ago and my mom has been going through the motions. Being there for her has been good for my soul. While I still see only see my boys a couple days a week at basketball, there are other friendships in my life that have evolved into something I deeply appreciate. Things are starting to come together.

I suspect that others who take a structured approach to their lives have created similar pillars. For me, it seems to be friends, family, finance, and fitness… you know, if you wanna stick with the ‘Fs’. That’s my foundation.. what it takes for me to be a balanced, happy individual. While that foundation isn’t as strong as I’d like it to be, I’m confident I’m headed in the right direction. And maybe that’s why I’ve been looking to see if there’s room for someone else.

What comes next is going to be a mind-game of 4D chess as I’m about to write about the only two people in my life who know about and read this blog. But then again, how do I commit to writing honestly about what’s in my head without writing about this?

A few months ago, a good friend of mine asked if I wanted to go to a self-help seminar. I was a bit reluctant, but ended up going. He did the same with another friend. She and I just happened to meet at the seminar. There may have been chemistry. Didn’t matter though, she was already dating someone and they made us promise not to date each other for at least a month after the class. My buddy who introduced us said not to worry… seems like he saw more of the situation than either of us did.

She was a yoga teacher, and was doing privates for my buddy. I told him I had been wanting to get into yoga for a while now as part of my shoulder rehab and some injury prevention. So he extended an invite. And now we had a chance to hang out for a bit. And a bit more, and a bit more. Same chemistry, except it just kept getting more obvious.. for me anyways.

I knew she wasn’t in a good place with the guy she was dating because she would tell us. I did my best not to pry, but you could tell that figuring this out was important to her. From what I could understand, he was nice, good looking, a little spiritual… and then it kinda fell off. It seemed like she was looking for more but wasn’t quite sure what that meant, or if it was justified. My buddy and I did our best to give advice without leading her in any particular direction… suggesting that it came down to her being honest with herself and her being honest with him.. and being okay with where that took things. Even so, there were a few times where I had to cut myself off. Even if I thought I knew what was going on. Even if I thought I knew what she should be doing, it was more important that I give her the support and space to find her own way through this.

She and my buddy were over last week for dinner and once again, endless conversation, exploring all kinds of cool ideas. There was a point where she and I were sitting beside each other at my table and you know when your leg accidentally rests against someone else’s and you adjust so that you’re not touching anymore? Well we didn’t adjust. It was barely noticeable.. to the point where I question if she even noticed at all. But that.. plus a few more looks being exchanged.. plus everything else that had been building up.. prompted a different end to that evening. It got late, it was time to to call it a night, and they took off. And then my phone rang… it was her.

She asked, “Are you hinting at something?”

I replied, “…. maybe…. what do you think I’m hinting at?”

I was willing to be honest, just wanted to be more sure of what she was asking.

She replied, “Just yes or no, are you hinting at something?”

She was looking for honest and direct communication and I couldn’t have respected that more. I responded “Yes. Yes… but respectfully.”

I won’t pretend that I remember the rest of the conversation word for word but I can say that it went well. Things were optimistic. We were appreciative of what was happening while trying to be responsible about everything else that was happening around us. We couldn’t help but see where we were complementary towards one another and it had us both excited about what might be here. But we reminded ourselves that she was still with someone else, and she needed to figure that out before anything could start between us. She thanked me for helping her maintain that integrity. Said something to the effect of let me go figure this out.

I had mentioned the situation to a friend and being the protective individual she was, she was a little skeptical of this person who seemed to be jumping from one relationship to the next. Truth is.. it doesn’t really phase me. There are a lot of people out there who will tell you what you should or shouldn’t do in a relationship, but rarely is this advice given after someone’s really taken the time to understand the individuals involved and the dynamic between them. The way I look at it is that this situation is unique to her and I, and it’s on us to understand it for what it is and what it isn’t, and take the steps that are right for us.

During our yoga session last Sunday, she mentioned that she was headed out of town on Friday. I remember her mentioning something about that before but had assumed it was something to the effect of a 2 week vacation. Nope, she was headed to Costa Rica for 5 weeks for a yoga course. Well then… isn’t that just serendipitous. As much fun as it might be to jump into this head first, I do really like the idea of her getting a chance to clear her head. 5 weeks of beaches and yoga, far away from me.. can’t help but think that’s a blessing in disguise. I recognize the risk in her getting swept off her feet by some hunky Costa Rican yoga instructor. Or maybe she comes back and wants to give the other guy another chance. Or maybe she comes back and realizes that she doesn’t wanna date at all. Whatever that decision is, as long as she arrives at it with a clear mind, she’ll have my support.

But yah.. I’m still kinda hoping that when she gets back, we get a chance to see what’s up.

And… this all has me in a really good place. So I read a book under a tree today.

What it Means to be Good Looking

For most of my childhood, the only person who told me I was handsome was my mom. She would tell me that I would be such a heart breaker. Then I ventured out into the real world and found no such validation. Occasionally a girl would have a crush on me, but it was never one of the pretty or popular girls. As far as my friends were concerned, all they knew was that I had a big nose. I really had no idea of knowing whether I was good looking or not. I wanted to be… few things were more obvious than the advantages of being good looking.

After high school, I was more focused on building myself up than what I looked like. I was confident that women were more attracted to character than looks… how else do you explain Jay Z and Beyonce? So I focused on building character.. integrity.. honesty.. honor.. intelligence.. humor, etc. I proceeded to date 3 of the most eligible women at my university. One of them was non-superficial that she could’ve dated a burn victim. Another thought I was really good looking, but her ex was… rather plain, so not a great measure. The third was really into the body-builder physique (of which I was not), and that led to some lackluster physical chemistry. Coming out of university, I knew I had the ability to date beautiful women… but still no clue if I was good looking.

A few years after university, I dated a girl who seemed to be grateful and appreciative of everything in her life. Even her most significant accomplishments, she would dismiss as good fortune. It was foreign to me as I’ve always been one to celebrate work ethic. She was extremely grateful for her looks, and said that I should be too. I told her that I had given up on trying to understand whether or not I was good looking. She told me that was ridiculous, and that to deny that I was good looking was to be oblivious of the privilege it afforded to me. Perhaps she had a point. Instead of exploring that point, I told her it just wasn’t something I thought about very much and I was pretty happy with the results. It was the first time someone told me I was basically an asshole if I didn’t think I was good looking. Well then…

Over the last couple months, I’ve probably been called handsome or good looking more than any other period in my entire life. As someone who was trying to get back into the dating scene, one would hope those compliments would be coming from interested women. Wishful thinking. Almost every one of those comments came from older men in my professional life. Something to the effect of, “you’re a young, good looking guy, the world is your oyster”. There was an older Asian guy at my local tech summit who probably told me about 10 times in one conversation that I’m handsome, have a great smile, and should be doing business development for Intel. He made sure to spell Intel for me.. Pretty sure he was several drinks in.

While it’s easy enough to laugh off, maybe there’s something worth observing here. Am I good looking? I’d say that depends on who you ask. I’ve been told by friends overseas that if you were to drop me in a place like Japan, China or Korea, I’d be like catnip. Put me in a place like California or New York and probably much less so. So there are cultural factors at play. I know facial symmetry makes for bonus points… A full head of hair… Good genetics… but what about personal preferences? When I was young, I spent a lot of time crushing on girls who just weren’t into me. There seem to be elements of attraction which are general, while others can be highly individual.

So beauty is in the eye of the beholder, yes? Seems like an easy out. But maybe there’s yet another level to this. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but eyes of the beholders tend to follow similar algorithms. I think it starts with good genetics. When you mix genetics from diverse gene pools, you end up with great looking kids. When you let a brother and sister get it on, there’s a 50/50 chance you end up with a cyclops. We have instincts that pick up on good genetics and we perceive that as physical attraction. In reality, we’re just instinctively trying to diversify our gene pool.

Good health is perhaps second on that list. We seem to be in an interesting time where people who are unhealthy and overweight want to be perceived as attractive in the same way that someone healthy is. In reality, we’re physically attracted to good health and there are different ways we pick up on that. Are you fit? Do you have good skin? Good teeth? Is your hair falling out? Something I’ve found interesting is that whether it’s a 5’0″ gymnast or a 6’3″ power lifter, I’ve always found a healthy woman to be attractive.

So based on these parameters am I good looking? Probably.

My genetic background is Scottish, Irish, Jewish, and Austrian. Not the most diverse gene pool, but certainly not kissing-cousins. My face is largely symmetrical from what I can see. I have a full head of hair and mostly straight teeth. While I take liberties with my health and fitness from time to time, I’ve been a competitive athlete my entire life. If I had to guess, I would say that I am above average looking.

Great. Now what?

My concern before was that if I figured out that I was good looking, I’d let it go to my head. I liked being oblivious to it because it kept my focus on what I thought was more important. Now that I’m conceding, what changes? … Nothing…?

I think that at this point, it’s unlikely to go to my head. I’m appreciative for where it’s helped me, indifferent to where it didn’t, and hope that this baby face ages gracefully. I’m also understanding and accepting where it may have created unearned advantages for me. While it may have helped in my dating life, it probably wasn’t as big of a factor as some may believe. Where I think it’s actually helped me the most is in my professional life. Just about every person that’s hired me or considered me for a role has referred to me as good looking. I think that early on, I just saw these compliments as innocuous or inconsequential. Why does being good looking have anything to do with my performance in the work environment? I know I look good in a suit.. maybe they were just saying something nice. But I don’t think it’s that simple. I think that things like facial symmetry, good skin, good hair, and good teeth make a difference in the willingness of strangers to trust you. Match that with being presentable and well-spoken, and you’re able to earn trust faster than others. In the world of business, that’s a very real advantage.

Are there any disadvantages?

I often see a duality around privilege, and good looks seem to follow that pattern. While I’m grateful for my looks, I’m more grateful for that uncertainty while growing up. It encouraged me to put my efforts and focus elsewhere, and not everyone is so lucky. Think about the prettiest girl in your high school. Was she more likely to be headed to university on a full scholarship or date the captain of the football team? Was she more likely to get recruited out of school to the field of her choice or more likely to be working as a bartender? Does she stand a better chance of accomplishing things on her own, or being accessory to someone else’s accomplishments? From a certain perspective, being good looking provides an easier path than most. But since when is easy a good thing?

A duality.. and a reality of our world. At the end of the day, physical attraction has a rather functional purpose: visual markers of good genetic and good health that help you find a mate. But I can’t help but see the tail wagging the dog a bit. Rather than understanding how physical attraction plays out among several other factors like personality, resources, intelligence, and group-membership, we talk about it like it’s magic. We often treat it like something that can’t be explained, and that even if it could, it shouldn’t. That it would take the romance out of things. I disagree. I find the truth to be more romantic than any lie.

I think there’s a fair bit of magic in having an honest understanding of what we’re seeing and why we enjoy it.

Dating: Navigating Good Intentions

I dated a girl for a couple months a few years ago. We shall call her Mia. She was lots of fun to hang out with and a very cool person, but was hung up on a few things. I tried to encourage her to open up, hoping that she would feel more comfortable around me but it just wasn’t happening. At one point, she offered to volunteer with her friends for a big event I was hosting. She ended up having to go out of town for work and couldn’t make it. She assured me her friends would still be there. None of her friends showed up. At an event where I was supposed to be socializing and enjoying myself, I was a full time janitor. The event was a big success, but I wasn’t happy about how things went between her and I. I told her that I was frustrated with what had happened. She didn’t bother to reply. After a few weeks of radio silence, I asked her if that was it. She said something to the effect of the sex was good, but we didn’t really have much in common and it wasn’t worth pursuing. I walked away and didn’t look back.

3 months ago, Facebook reminded me that it was her birthday so I sent her a cake emoji. She crossed my mind from time to time, always in a positive light. The girls I date seem to be into me for a variety of reasons… but I think it usually has to do with being a good person, driven, career minded, with a good group of friends.. that kinda stuff. Connecting with my nerdier side happened happened much less often. She was the exception. Anime, cosplay, reddit, video games.. all that fun stuff was something we had in common. These days, I really like that side of me, and it would be nice to be able to share that with someone. Maybe that’s why when that cake emoji turned into a conversation, I was optimistic.

We made plans to go see a movie, but the day before, she went radio silent. I don’t remember what her reason was.. maybe something about work. So we rescheduled. And she did it again. I was disappointed, but never mad. I tried to figure out what was going on and she replied with ‘why did you want to reconnect?’ Considering that our relationship before was mostly physical, I thought it was a fair question. I wish she had asked that question before she ghosted on me twice, but these are her defense mechanisms so I did my best to be understanding. I told her why I wanted to reconnect, that it had to do with the chemistry between us that we never had a chance to explore, the things we had in common, and just being in a place where I might be ready to take that step with someone. I think she was happy to hear that, said she really wanted to hang out, and teased herself realizing it was a bit circle back to a date. I was optimistic.

We made plans again, she got scarce the day before and the day of. Something something, work ran late. Something something, I’m really sorry.

*deep breath*

I saw progress though, so I was willing to keep at it. Then it happened again. Pretty much the exact same thing. And again, she was really sorry, acknowledged that she had issues around these things, reaffirmed that she absolutely wanted to see me, so we rescheduled again. I was 0/4 over the course of 2 months. I recognized that a younger me would’ve stoned-walled her after the first or second disappearing act as a function of my pride, or a need to protect my ego.. but that’s not who I am these days. These days, I’m big on self respect, but small on ego and pride… if nothing else, this was a proving ground for that perspective. My priority was understanding the situation for what it was, not using assumptions to protect myself from being hurt. She continued to open up to me about things over text, saying that she missed me, that I was the only guy she was even talking to, that she really did want to spend time with me, and all the other things you would expect to hear from someone who you think wanted to go on a date with you. And I don’t think she was lying. I think she was very well intentioned.

After the fourth time she stood me up, I actually shared this blog with her as I had written about her earlier. It was a window into my mind, to give her everything that she needed to know to make the best decision for her. There was nothing more that I could do than be honest, transparent, and communicate my intentions. She responded well, saying that she didn’t realize how much I had going on in my head and that it gave her a new appreciation for who I was. Progress. She seemed more motivated than ever to see me. Progress. So we rescheduled again. This time she said that she would take the initiative, plan something out, take the lead. I was cautiously optimistic.

The night before, I actually had a dream that she ghosted again. I sent her a message that morning saying that. I heard nothing back. She ghosted again. 0/5.

FML.

I sent her a message saying that there’s a difference between someone who is good and someone who is nice. Someone who is nice tells people what they want to hear and sometimes, they even mean it. But when it comes to doing something inconvenient or difficult, they choose the easy path at the expense of others. Someone who is good tells people what they need to hear, even when they don’t want to hear it. And when it comes to making the hard decisions, they do what’s best, not what’s easiest. I was fully ready to walk away at this point and was leaving her this message hoping she would reflect on it and not put someone else through this nonsense.

She responded saying that she had read more of my blog than just the most recent article about her. She read my posts about a previous girlfriend (Max) where I had put her on a pedestal.. I think I even called her my north star. The truth is I had a tremendous amount of respect and appreciation for what I had learned from our relationship and was letting it inspire me to be a better person. Perhaps I should’ve also written a follow up post about the whatsapp conversation that I had with Max where I realized that she no longer understood me the way I had remembered, and that our connection was no longer there. Mia had read those entries, and had a very real concern that I was using her to fill the void that Max had left. Even though Max and I hadn’t dated in a few years and she was on the other side of the planet with no plans of coming back, I understood that concern. Truth is, I had that same concern when things were starting up with Mia. But the more I connected with Mia, the less I thought about Max. Max became an ill-fitting memory while Mia represented an interesting path forward. But she didn’t know that. We talked about it over text, and even had our first phone conversation since reconnecting. I got stood up, but there was progress.

There was a wide disconnect between Mia’s actions and her texts. Her texts showed someone who was making a very real connection with someone who she was genuinely interested in and wanted to explore a relationship with. They showed that she was growing, overcoming her issues, and opening up in a way that she never had with me. Her actions were of someone who was willing to lead me on who would then look for every excuse to not actually have to show up. I never assumed that her finding these excuses was a reflection of her interest in me, but I also had to be real about her not being honest or open about what was really going on. She knew that my love language was action, but it didn’t seem to matter. But I saw progress, and growth, someone who did want to spend time with me, and someone who I still really wanted to connect with. I told her that if I walked away now, I wouldn’t feel good about it. I asked her what she thought we should do. She still really wanted to see me… so we rescheduled.

That was last week. Again, she was a bit scarce during the day. I had seen this pattern before. There was nothing to indicate that she was taking the initiative like she said that she would. But then a glimmer of hope.. she texted back and said that she was still on for tonight and thought that she would wrap up work around 5-6. I was never confident that it would happen, but I was optimistic. Then she sent me a message saying that things were running behind schedule. I was a little frustrated, but kept that to myself, doing my best to make sure that when we saw each other, it wasn’t dragged down by all the baggage of what it took to get here. According to the texts, she was delayed because she was doing the tear down at a convention and her team had basically bailed, leaving her to do it all herself. Had she asked, I would’ve been more than happy to help her out.. I like being productive and helpful, and it would’ve been an excuse to spend time together. Instead, she said that she would probably be done closer to 9. I said no worries, a late dinner it is. 9 came and went, still nothing. In an act of optimism and committing to making this happen, I even drove downtown to make sure to when she was ready, I wasn’t wasting what precious minutes we had left on the road. She messaged me closer to 10 saying that she had a couple things left to wrap up, I asked jokingly if that meant midnight. She joked back and said no, hopefully not. I should’ve known.

At 11, I told her that I still hadn’t eaten, most restaurants were closed, and we both had work in the morning. I was done. I had no interest in rescheduling again. No interest in going through the motions anymore. No interest in going above and beyond, when she wouldn’t do the same. I told her that I would stay downtown (sitting in my car) until midnight, and she had until then to make something happen. She was sorry. It was a work thing. She didn’t expect it would be like this. She really wanted to see me. Etc. Etc. Etc.

I told her that her words were hollow. All that she had said showed me that she cared, that she was into me, that she wasn’t leading me on, and was genuinely interested in exploring a relationship with me. Everything she did showed the complete opposite. If someone was only able to see her actions, you would see someone who lacked integrity, who was self-centered, and incapable of being respectful towards others. I don’t think that’s her. I think she’s very well intentioned, but doesn’t understand that there is a wide gap between intentions and actions. Most abusive relationships are between people with good intentions. When a man beats his wife, he says that he does it out of love. But he still beats her. I don’t think she understands this.

I told her that I had gone above and beyond for her to get us to the point where we could spend time with one another, but that I had no interest in being in an unbalanced relationship. This was her opportunity to go above and beyond for me, to show me how much this mattered to her. To restore some balance. She said that she had some ideas, but nothing that she could do within the hour. The truth is, all I needed was to see her make the effort.. to see her in person. Whether that meant staying up late after a long day of work, or taking a bus to my house at 2am.. if she was willing to make an effort to see me, I would’ve been good. But she didn’t. Instead, she told me that I was a priority, that she wasn’t leading me on, that she had opened up and communicated with me, and complained that work was getting in the way. I disagree. I’ve worked a more demanding work schedule than anyone I know, and that is an excuse. If she wanted to see me, she would’ve found a way or made a way. But she lacked the motivation.

My last two messages to her were:

“No matter what you’ve said, it’s always amounted to the same thing. We make plans, and you bail. Literally 6 times in a row. Had I been in your shoes tonight.. I would’ve done everything I could to see you tonight.. even now. It’s even why I asked you where you were.. but I can’t help but think that on some level.. you’re relieved to not have to”

“… I guess I’m heading home now”

She never replied back.

Had the situations been reversed, I would’ve made the effort. I would’ve said fuck sleeping tonight, I need to see her because this is worth saving. I would’ve driven, taxied, or bused or walked to her house. Even if it was only for a moment.. to show I was willing to make the effort. Even if she didn’t come outside, I would’ve taken a picture and sent a text showing that even if she was gone, I made the effort. Maybe that’s why I stayed awake for an hour after I got home, looking over at my phone every 10 minutes.

Nothing.. And I’m done.

My most honest understanding of the situation is that she cares about me, wants to explore this relationship, and is genuinely positive about where it could go. She’s well intentioned. But intentions are only worth so much to a person unable to act on them. A man who intends to love his wife but beats her instead is still a wife beater. A woman who intends to be loyal to her husband but cheats on him is still cheater. A girl who keeps telling a guy that she wants to spend time with him but bails every time.. is leading him on. I don’t know if she truly appreciates that dynamic. Maybe she’s not used to facing the consequences of her actions. Maybe I enabled this by letting it go as long as I did. Maybe she’ll think that it’s her job that held her back but if she does, she’s overlooking all the things that led up to this. Had that happened once or twice, we would probably be in an awesome relationship right now.. but it didn’t happen once or twice. It happened 6 times. It was literally 3 months of texting with 6 attempted dates, and her finding a way out of all of them. At some point, I hope she appreciates that.

Where things go from here… I’m not sure. It would be easy to say fuck her for wasting my time. Fuck her for every day that I spent excited to see her, and every night that I spent on my couch feeling shitty for being stood up. Fuck her for making me think I was a priority and fuck her for making me think that there was something here. But I don’t do easy. The truth is those emotions barely register… it’s just not me anymore. Instead, my mind is always open to the possibilities of the future and if anything, I’m compassionate to the struggles she has with being open, honest, and communicating when things get tough. But the reality is that I’m no longer motivated to pursue this. It’s not because I don’t think we have great chemistry.. or that there’s the potential for a great relationship.. but because I’m not capable of helping us get there. That’s not something I can do on my own.. it takes both people to get there, and as far as I can tell, she’s just not capable. Whether that’s a function of her job.. her communication issues.. her social anxiety.. maybe all of the above.. I don’t know. What I do know is that I would’ve been happy to support her in figuring that stuff out, but she needed to make the effort and never did.

I mentioned the situation to a friend this morning, a friend who knew what had happened leading up to this. The first thing out of her mouth was you gotta get away from that girl. From any outsiders perspective, especially without scrolling through the hundreds of texts over the last few months.. it’s clearly an unhealthy relationship. But with context, probably much less so. I wouldn’t have put myself through this had I not been capable of doing it without taking damage. I showed my friend her last couple text messages from last night and asked if I was missing anything. She said that if work was such an issue, dictating whether or not she can have a social life at the drop of a hat, why is she working for these people? A valid question, but with good jobs hard to come by these days.. not always a fair question.

This is when my friend echoed where I think my head is truly at. I’m done investing time and effort into making something happen and if she disappears because of it, that’s unfortunate, but ok. But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t be open to her changing my mind. Just because she’s demonstrated that she’s incapable of making me a priority, doesn’t mean that she’ll always be incapable. The problem though, is that the list of things that she could say or do to change my mind is shrinking quickly. At this point, it would probably have to be an action. A big one. My friend joked and said showing up to my office with flowers. Why not. The truth is I don’t really care what the action is… I just need it to show me that she’s capable of stepping outside her comfort zone and capable of having her actions reflect her intentions.

The ironic thing about writing this blog post is that there’s a chance she’ll read it. I write things like this first and foremost as a therapeutic way of flushing out my thoughts on a subject. It forces me to be honest with the situation and honest with myself, while putting an honest experience out there that others might resonate with. That said, I knew as soon as I started writing it that she’d probably see it. Whether she sees this and decides to return to her comfort zone, or sees this and finds motivation to finally have her actions reflect her intentions… that I do not know. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope it was the latter.

Max just texted. She’s in town for the week and would ‘love’ to see me. Well then…

Struggling with Isolation

I was in bed at 11 and have been up since 3am. Dove into reddit for a bit. Then some clash of clans. Can’t sleep. Thought about going for a run.. but I hate running. I’m struggling here. Grabbed my laptop thinking maybe I would work one out and de-stress. Ended up here instead.

I grew up surrounded by friends. Whether it was me and a best friend adventuring around the city as kids, or me and the crew hanging out at my place on a Friday night playing video games over beers. Not so much these days.

Normally I’m good with alone time. But this has been different. I separated my shoulder a couple months ago so I haven’t been able to play sports. For the most part, basketball twice a week was the only time I would still see the crew. The cost of living has kept them living with their parents, and me on the outskirts of town. Even eating out is too expensive these days. I miss those guys. Those guys understood me through and through, never held anything against me, or I against them. I could always be myself with them and not have to stress about it. Times have changed.

Earlier this year, one of my closest friends (I was the best man at his wedding) decided that I had pissed him off enough to stop talking to me. Never even told me why. Just stopped texting me back or taking my calls. The last interaction we had was when I had invited him and his wife over for dinner. He called me a couple hours before hand and said he and the wife didn’t feel like driving out to my house and suggested that I bring the supplies over to their house and cook for them there. I laughed it off and said that I wasn’t a personal chef and that we could reschedule for another time. Eventually, I told him that my business was starting the process of hiring a new GM, a role which I had lined him up for since the beginning – and that if he still wanted to be involved, he and I needed to sort our shit out. He responded quick enough, but basically said that I had pissed him off by disrespecting him and his wife (who’s also a close friend). He started to make it sound like she had been upset about something and he was upset that she was upset. I racked my brain so hard to figure out what it was that I had done, and the best that I could come up with is that they were upset that I declined to drive to their house and cook for them when they declined to drive to my house to let me cook for them. We’ve since hung out a few times and things are mostly back to normal.. but we still haven’t tackled that topic.

Being injured and not being able to play sports and then having one of my closest friends pull that shit was tough. It made me feel isolated. I had also reached out to an ex-girlfriend back in December which didn’t go all that well. I was excited to show her the ways in which I had grown since we dated last, as she was part of what inspired that growth. She was working on her MBA in Singapore and kept saying that she would love to chat in real-time and catch up. I kept saying sure, that would be great. She kept not getting back to me after that. In the process, she made it clear that she had assumed I hadn’t changed, and wasn’t all that interested in changing her perception or reconnecting in any way. Fuuuuck me.

This is all along the backdrop of work, where I’m dealing with two founders who are under a level of stress that they’re not dealing with very well. One founder snapped at me for not letting him proof read an email to an investor. He’s never proofed my anything to anyone, nor would he have even understood the subject matter of the email even if he did. Not to mention I told him specifically what would be in that email a few hours earlier at our weekly meeting. He’s bugging out for other reasons, but this is how it’s showing up. Then you have his wife, the other co-founder who, at times, almost looks for reasons to be upset with me. With her, I can’t help but think that I carry all the tribal markers of someone she’s learned to feel threatened by… straight white male with a background in corporate finance who drives an SUV. I’ve probably experienced more prejudice in this relationship than any other I’ve experienced. Ironic, because she’s very far left. Or maybe that’s not so ironic these days. Both are good, decent people who with a clear and positive state of mind are very, very good to me. But those moments can be the exception when they’re under the stress and pressure of a company which is growing beyond their ability to run. Fortunately, that’s why they brought me in, but now they’re struggling to give up that control.

I find myself craving to be understood and accepted. And connected. I’ve always been understood and accepted by the crew, but they’re not around so much anymore. I had that with my buddy, until he decided that whatever I did was enough to cut me out of his life for a few months but not enough to talk to me about what had happened. Initially, I had that with the co-founders who had brought me into their start-up, until they started to let their stress levels get the best of them. I had a deep sense of acceptance and being understood with the ex-girlfriend, but since we had dated and then stopped talking, she seemed to have lost all interest in showing it. My dad would’ve been my go-to in these situations.. would’ve gone to his place for dinner.. told him what I was going through and he’d feed me, give me some advice, and send me on my way. I miss him. Don’t have that relationship with my mom.. siblings are in another country..

*deep breath*

When I see this happening around me, the first pattern I notice is that I’m the common factor. It must be me. It probably is. I often joke around that I’m an ass, but I know I’m a good person who treats others well, even in the worst of conditions. The harder life gets, the more I focus on not letting it affect how I treat others. If anything, I let it motivate me to treat others better. Asking the cashier how her day has been, striking up a conversation with the disabled guy who handles the shopping carts at my local grocery store, or hitting the pedestrian crossing for a car stuck at a flashing green light. If life is going to be shitty to me, at least I can still brighten up someone else’s day.

The other pattern that I’ve noticed is that the people are running from the ideas that challenge their reality, and I do that often. I know the value of having your reality challenged, it keeps you accountable to the truth and helps you avoid the bullshit in your life. But it can be uncomfortable. It can make you feel shitty when it happens, even if it’s what you need. I’m all about delayed gratification so I’m all about embracing the shit. But I’m starting to sense that I’m one of very few who’s interested in taking that approach. As the world has become more challenging and confusing, I can’t help but think that people are retreating to their comfort zones and someone like me is not welcome there. I live perpetually outside of my comfort zone and I embrace the challenges and growth that come with it. Do I keep encouraging others to venture outside of their comfort zone? Or do I allow them to be complacent within their belief system?

A few weeks ago, I reached out to a girl I had dated briefly a few years ago to wish her a happy birthday. We started texting a bit and with us both big into super hero movies, I asked if she wanted to go see the new Black Panther. She was pumped. Until she ghosted. She apologized, something about her schedule. So we rescheduled, and she ghosted again. When we dated the first time, she did something similar with a big event and I wasn’t having it. My pride let me walk away from that in a hurry. This time around, I was frustrated, but wanted to understand what was happening more than I wanted to punish her for wasting my time. We spoke about it more candidly. She asked why I had messaged her beyond the happy birthday and I was honest. I had done a lot of growing up, but it left me feeling more awkward and misunderstood than ever. Life was a lot easier when I was set on being the person that everyone wanted me to be. Turns out being me was not so easy. As beautiful as she was, she was no stranger to being awkward and misunderstood, and I thought maybe we could be awkward and misunderstood together. I figured it was at least worth a date. Had it happened, it would’ve been my first time being anywhere near a woman in more than a year.

She liked the idea, said that she understood and had decided that she really did want to spend some time with me. So we scheduled another date. This time she was feeling under the weather. Fair enough, so let’s reschedule for a few days out? Yes please, until she cancelled again for still being sick and heading out for a work trip in the morning. 0/4. Fuuuuuck me. Trying to be understanding. Trying to be considerate. Asked her what was going on, and not from a place of anger. I told her that it sucked, being excited to see her and spend time with her, only for her to cancel over, and over, and over. I told her I don’t think I can keep this up. She assured me that she was very, very interested in seeing me and spending time with me. If someone were to read our text conversations, you’d be optimistic this would go somewhere. But it hasn’t. She had some reservations, and some social anxiety… things I wanted to support her though. She wanted me to support her though them as well. But maybe I’m missing something.

She took off for her work trip Thursday morning, and we’ve texted a bunch since. But as she got closer to coming back, the texts dried up. Pretty much nothing on Saturday, she was driving back for most of Sunday, and yesterday was a quick text in the morning and nothing all day. Even typing this, I feel like it comes off as needy but there’s more to it than that. There are patterns hidden within styles of communication. This is not the pattern of communication of someone who wants to spend time with me. Or maybe I’m jumping the gun. This is remarkably frustrating and confusing.

I know she has some social anxiety issues, I know she was super awkward around me when we dated before and while I adored her anyways, it’s still on her mind. I know that she’s a good person with good intentions, but I don’t know if she’s capable of actually making this happen. After she asked to reschedule date number 4, I did my best to help us figure things out. I gave her every out, and she was still 100% determined to try and make this happen, and appreciated my understanding. I told her that I still don’t know what that means. It could mean what I hope it means, but it could also mean that as much as she’d like this to happen, she’s just not ready.

If I was in her shoes, and really wanted to see me, I would’ve tried to put something in the calendar for as soon as I was back. She’s barely texted me at all in the last few days. Normally, I wouldn’t overthink this but the messages she stopped responding after are not the types of messages that you leave hanging. It’s probably the biggest reason why I couldn’t sleep tonight. I told her I was under a fair bit of stress right now and while I was probably handling it well, it was tough. Later in the evening, I sent her a video game meme.. still nothing. In an age where people check their phones more often than they look at the time, seeing those messages and not responding is a message in itself isn’t it? It was a pattern of reduced communication the closer we got to seeing each other… It’s a big part of why I couldn’t sleep tonight. I wanted to send her a text that would basically say…. I don’t know what it would say. Something to the effect of this sucks for me. I keep putting myself out there and you keep running away. I don’t want to keep doing this. But I weigh that against being understanding of what she’s going through, and the possibility that if we could just get within physical distance of each other, the dynamic would shift and it might be everything we wanted it to.

I avoided sending anything her way, especially out of a state of frustration. Maybe she lost/broke her phone, maybe she’s playing catch up with work, maybe.. maybe.. maybe. It doesn’t make sense to assume I know what’s going on here, but what’s my breaking point? I know I’m not compromising who I am, nor am I allowing myself to be played. I’m very aware of the situation and the younger me would’ve let his pride dictate my actions. It’s exactly why she and I stopped dating before. But had I allowed my pride to dictate my behavior this time around, I would’ve saved myself a lot of grief.

I often hope that my tendency to put myself through these things, and my ability to survive them will leave me a more balanced, humble, and appreciative person for when things do go well. But my patience is being tested.. perhaps now more than ever. My entire life seems to have been an effort of delayed gratification. It’s not easy. Down right shitty when I have to go through it alone. But I refuse to let the situation define me. Instead, I choose to define my situation. It is not her who is standing me up, but me who understands and appreciates the challenges she is going through, and me who chooses to be patient with how she’s working through this. But even so, at a certain point, I need to start respecting the impact this has on my emotional state and accept that she’s just not ready. I’m right up against that edge right now and I guess the next 24 will reveal the rest.

I made a point of not putting this entry up when I wrote it. It was an incomplete thought being pressured by my emotional state. I didn’t have enough information to understand the situation at the time and I’m happy I waited. She texted me back the next day, saying that things at work had become quite challenging and that she had been ignoring her phone almost entirely as a result. We’re heading out for that date today.. probably some Ready Player One and some homemade sushi. I’m cautiously optimistic it might actually happen.

Loneliness

I noticed a pattern in my dating behavior recently. Actually, I think I noticed it a few years ago but suppressed it, afraid it might be indicative of something that I might have to deal with.

I think I’m good at being single. I keep myself busy with work, friends, and sports. I enjoy my alone time. Sex outside a relationship doesn’t do much for me. And for the most part, I don’t crave to be in a relationship. Yet every year, I enter the fall a single man, and exit the holidays in some kind of relationship. Maybe not every year, but close enough for me to see a pattern.

In 2016, I met a Harley Quinn at a Halloween party and we dated until the spring of last year. Before that was Max, who I met in the fall of 2015. We dated until the spring of 2016. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been anywhere near a woman though, and I’m starting to bug out a bit.

As great as my last girlfriend was, I came out of that relationship thinking that I might be asexual. She was all kinds of awesome, and I was all kinds of uninterested towards the end. It wasn’t her fault as I had some things I needed to work through. In that regard, I suppose I’m not very good at multitasking.

Harley and I broke up in the spring. Women weren’t on my radar at all. The summer came and went and I still had no interest in women. I was open minded to the idea that I just wasn’t suitable for a relationship. I was also open minded to the fact that I might be a touch asexual as I noticed myself getting bored of sex within the first few months in most of my relationships. I loved exploring, I loved figuring out where her buttons were, and I loved introducing her to new things… but as soon as things became a bit repetitive, I would lose interest.

In the fall, an ex messaged me. We chatted for a bit and I could see she was angling for something physical so I told her she was probably barking up the wrong tree. She took it as a challenge and basically took it upon herself to turn me back into a red-blooded male. I thought it would be an interesting experiment. We were supposed to meet up one weekend after she wrapped up at some kind of fancy party. I told her earlier in the day that I just wasn’t into it. There’s an interesting test that I think most men (and perhaps women?) are aware of: If you still wanna hang out with them after you jerk off, then they’re worth hanging out with. That was not the case with her, so I eventually told her that it wouldn’t be right to use her to work out my own issues.

On Monday, I downloaded Tinder. Or perhaps I should say that I re-downloaded Tinder. I’m probably the minority but I’m a fan of the app and have used it to meet several quality women. This time around, I’m feeling a bit lost. My last profile was a head shot of me in a 3 piece suit, talking about working in finance and dabbling in venture capital. As effective as that profile was, it seemed a bit douchey this time around. It didn’t reflect who I had become over the last year. I really didn’t know what kind of girl I was looking to attract, or even what I would even want from them. I just knew it was different from before. But Tinder isn’t the place for me to work this out. I had the app for 2 days before deleting it again.

But I’m playing back into this pattern aren’t I? Give or take a couple months. Do I want to be in a relationship? Probably not. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Am I open to one? I think so. Maybe what I’m hoping for is to meet someone new who can teach me a few things about the world and myself. Or maybe I’m feeling the void of someone who’s already taught me so much.

I probably went through more personal growth in the last 12 months than any other period of my life. The last time I went through this much growth was when my dad died. I learned to appreciate the true diversity of humanity. I learned that embracing what made me different, and being true to myself wasn’t only going to be my greatest comparative advantage, it would also lead to my happiest self. I learned the importance of not suppressing my emotions and the value of learning how to process and communicate them. I learned why it was important for me to embrace the parts of who I am which I had neglected, thinking they weren’t necessary in my career. I learned a greater appreciation for prejudice and the survivorship bias. I learned to be far more grateful. And perhaps most importantly, I learned a tremendous importance of keeping an open mind.

Keeping an open mind can be important for a variety of reasons, many of which I learned last year. Of all those reasons though, one is very important to me. I had the opportunity to learn all of this when I was dating Max. She was a few years younger than me, but she had a handle on all of this stuff. And the things she didn’t know, we should’ve been able to discover together. Instead of keeping an open mind and seeing her as someone I could learn from, I saw her as a challenge to the path I was already committed to. Where she embraced her diversity, I was telling her to mind her P’s and Qs. Where she tried to encourage me to explore, I would tell her that I didn’t have the time. Where she pushed me to have a better awareness of my emotions, I bought into the myth that I was all robot. Where she encouraged me to be more grateful, I insisted that I had worked hard for everything that I had. When she tried to assert herself as an equal who I could learn from, I basically told her that between our age difference and the life that I had lived, there was a good chance that I knew better. I dismissed the wisdom in what she was trying to help me learn, for the sake of being right and being able to continue along the path I was on. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done to anyone in a relationship and I still feel pretty rotten about it.

In a year where I’ve had more personal growth than at any other point in my life, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Max. Over. And over. And over. It wasn’t even about wanting to be back in a relationship with her. It had everything to do with wanting her back in my life. But she wasn’t.

So I found myself thinking about her more and more. I started playing some of the music she had turned me onto (Phantogram). I made a half hearted attempt at stalking her social media (largely unsuccessful). I started to wonder if we would still be compatible (maybe?). Eventually, I even found myself tossing and turning in bed, wanting her to be within arm’s reach.

When we dated, we fell hard and fast. Within the first few weeks, we were in love. Within the first month, we were talking about moving in together. A month later, we were joking around about having alpha-babies. Infatuation aside, there was also a deep compatibility that I hadn’t experienced with anyone else. But she only got half of me. The other half was career oriented at all costs, and had picked a terrible career to be committed to. I don’t see an alternate universe in which she could’ve convinced me of that. I was subscribed to the philosophy that if failure was an option, then you had too many options. A painful lesson, but perhaps invaluable to my future.

When I think about her now, the word that I can’t get out of my head is ‘equal’. In the grand scheme of things, I think that we’re all equally valuable to the universe. But Max was equal to me. Or maybe I was equal to her. Or maybe I’m just in awe of the situation and can’t help but hold her in such high regard. I don’t think it’s that simple though.

I’ve spent most of my adult life hoping to find a partner. I’ve also spent most of that time not knowing what that person would look like. I think I have a much better idea now, though it seems incredibly hard to articulate beyond being with someone who’s my equal. I want to be able to learn from them as often as they learn from me. I want us to be able to keep an open mind when exploring the unknown together. I want someone who can hold their own when debating something we disagree on. I want someone who is valuable to me as I am to them. And for each of us to be the most valuable person in each other’s lives because we’re committed to bringing out the best in one another.

Maybe that’s what’s going on here. I have this fixation on becoming the best version of myself. Seeing the influence Max had on me, I can’t help but think of her as an asset. The key to my best self. As romantic as that may sound to some, I don’t think it’s a very functional or realistic way to approach this.

With all the growing up I’ve done, I’m confident that I would make a far better partner for her than I did when we were dating. Considering the potential we both saw in each other when we did date, I can’t help but be interested in knowing where that would take us today. Maybe not much further than before. Maybe much further than before. I think that would have a lot to do with who she is now. And therein lies the reality of the matter.

We were in touch over email last week for the first time in about 2 years. She’s on the other side of the planet working on her MBA. She’s out there doing her thing, as I always hoped that she would. Which means I either gotta go get her, hope that she comes to me, or put it out there in the universe and see what happens. And I’m going with option 3.

I’m sure there’s a romantic, fairy-tale way to approach this… and I wouldn’t put it past me to try something crazy like that. But I’m still not sure how much of this really involves her. Had it not been for our most recent communication, she wouldn’t have a clue any of this was going on in my head. Not to mention there’s always a chance that she’s already dating someone. Maybe she’s found her soulmate and I’m just being a needy ex.

How much of what I’m feeling relates to the fact that I haven’t been intimate with anyone in almost a year? How much of this has to do with me usually being in a relationship at this time of year? How much of this has to do with the loneliness I experience when I don’t have anyone to share my inner-thoughts with? How much of this is the loneliness that comes from a modern society that’s so connected yet so divided? How much of this is the loneliness that comes from a world where it costs money to hang out with your friends, but where everyone is struggling financially? And how much of this stems from the fear that I may have found someone who I could truly build a future with, and may not find another?

The logic in me says that there are a finite amount of people in this world who would make for a suitable partner. That Max may be one of them, but that she wouldn’t be the only one. That given where she is, and the phase of life that she’s in, I would probably have better odds looking elsewhere. Or maybe as the odds play out, I end up with none of them. The logic in me says appreciate who she is, be grateful for what she’s helped you learn, and focus on the things in your life that are a little more tangible.

But then something else inside me says, what about Max?

I Used to be a Nice Guy.

As a kid, I think I was probably a handful. But in general, a good kid. It’s interesting because you might expect that a good kid would grow into a nice guy, and a nice guy would end up with a good girl and everything would work out. Somewhere along the way though, nice guys became not so nice.

I always had a close circle of guy friends, but back in early high school, I started hanging out with the ladies as well. I genuinely respected and appreciated them as friends, but there would usually be at least one girl in the group I was crushing on. As a kid, I really wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. All I really knew is that if I spent time around them, I could probably make some progress. I’d eat lunch with them. Talk with them on the phone. Help them with their homework. Help them with their guy problems… And I literally got friend-zoned every time.

In grade 11, I met my first girlfriend. We met at a driving school and I’m pretty sure she had both hands on the steering wheel. I was lucky because she clearly knew what she was doing and didn’t mind that I was just along for the ride. It only lasted a few months but at least I figured out how to kiss a girl. My grade 12 girlfriend was about the same.

I could’ve very easily graduated high school a virgin. Probably would’ve had I not been easy prey for a pair of girls who weren’t afraid to go after what they wanted. Instead, I had a couple relationships under my belt and was ready for university. I remember during orientation week, seeing a girl in my dorm who had the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and the personality of a cartoon character. We’ll call her Grace. She was pretty awesome, and we started hanging out. Just when I thought I may have been making some progress, she detoured towards an upperclassman. Not only was the guy a legit womanizer, his personality was mostly cardboard. It was extremely frustrating for me because I was athletic, I was academic, she and I got along really well, her friends liked me, her family liked me, and I was a nice guy. Yet she ignored my interest to chase after a guy who literally treated her like an after thought unless he was trying to get laid.

Towards the end of my first year, I started dating our dorm’s resident busty blonde. There was one point at which she came back to the dorm with another upperclassman, looking a little flustered. I was a little suspicious. He was the type to take advantage of a situation like that and she was probably the type to be into it. We did a little long distance over the summer, where she cheated on me again with her ex back home. As revenge, I strung her along until she thought things were good, then I broke up with her. Effective revenge, but a complete dick move on my part.

Ironically, Grace started reaching out to me that summer, telling me about how I was the one she should’ve gone after. To make matters more confusing, she had just gotten into a relationship with a childhood friend from back home, and the guy was actually treating her well. She ended up sleeping with him, and then he ended up sleeping with her best friend, who happened to be a gay guy. As entertaining as that was for me, I felt a little bad for her.

When we got back to school for our second year, everyone was back to being single. I had been thinking about Grace a fair bit so I told her. She didn’t have much of a response. We went out to the big dance in the first week and within the first few dances, she was all up on another guy, so I decided to get all up on another girl. We were mutually upset at each other’s behavior, and that seemed to undermine any possible momentum we may have had. From there, she started pursuing a buddy of mine. This guy was also a dick. He was easy enough to get along with as a guy, but he also treated her like an after thought. The more she wanted him, the more he didn’t want her. I think they slept together a few times, but he had no interest in a relationship. By the end of the second year, she was dating another buddy of mine who I shared a wall with. He was much less of a dick, but also the kinda guy who partied way too hard to make it into his second year.

WTF was going on? What did these guys have that I didn’t? In my head, I would go through the qualities that I had learned women respected: Physically fit, good hygiene, doing well in school, good circle of friends, social status, respected women, polite, gentlemanly… what else was there? Leaving university after my second year, I had concluded that women were more attracted and more responsive to men who treated them poorly than men who treated them well. I knew that I didn’t completely understand the dynamic, but I was fully ready to give up on being the nice guy who was doomed to live out his days in the dreaded friend-zone.

When I got back home from university that summer, I really wasn’t focused on girls. I was focused on being bad. Money for school had run out and because of a few other issues between me and the university, they really didn’t want me back. So I didn’t go. Instead, I started doing the kinda things that bad boys do. I spent the next 18 months with ‘the wrong crowd’, doing the kinds of things that people go to jail for. My inner-circle knew what I was up to but for everyone else, I would just tell them, “don’t worry about it.” And it worked surprisingly well.

I still wasn’t the type to chase after women, but I started noticing that girls were into me. Girls who would’ve friend zoned me before were now interested. My plan was working.

I didn’t even have a clearly defined plan. All I knew is that when I was a ‘nice guy’, women weren’t interested in me. When I wasn’t a ‘nice guy’, I was much more attractive. I gave that a lot of thought. Maybe the nice guy was too vanilla? But then it occurred to me that for the most part, nice guys were harmless. And harmless was unattractive. There was a lot more to it than that, but maybe I was on to something.

When I got back to university to complete my degree, I proceeded to date 3 of what were probably the most eligible females on campus. I thought the first was probably a fluke, right place at the right time. By the third, I knew something was different from my first two years at the school. I had manifested into the mysterious, hardened, conflicted, complicated guy who still managed to have a bright future, great friends, and a good heart. Girls were totally into that guy. I have to admit, it was a lot easier trying to figure things out as that guy than as the guy who could only watch from the sidelines.

When I graduated and came home, I started training in MMA 6 days a week. I had watched a ton of it on TV and wanted to start competing ASAP. Within months, I had added a new dimension to my personality. I now knew that if I ended up in a physical confrontation with another person, there was a very good chance that I would come out on top. I can’t stress how impactful that state of mind has been on every element of my life. I spent the first half of my life avoiding violence, fearing that I wouldn’t know how to handle it. I’ve spent the second half of my life avoiding violence, because I know how to handle it. The confidence that comes from that state of mind was the final step in building myself into the ‘perfect guy’.

With all the information that I had collected in the first 25 years of my life, I had what I thought was a pretty good idea of what women wanted. They wanted a guy who’s nice to them, but not to everyone. They wanted a guy who’s good, but is capable of being bad. They wanted a guy who can fight, but isn’t violent. It was like they wanted someone who was a threat, but not a threat to them. So I literally became the university educated, former bad boy, MMA fighter, investment advisor, who was complicated but with a good heart and a bright future guy.

It would be an exaggeration to say that at this point, I got every girl I pursued, but not by much. I’ve never been the type for one night stands or picking up girls at a bar so that’s not what I’m talking about. All I’m saying is that I haven’t been put in the friend zone since.

So how has that worked out for my dating life? Am I happier?

For a while, it was nice. Tinder worked like a charm. Ironically though, the last time I used it was when I landed what many men would think was the holy grail of dating. I ended up going on a date with a girl who had blonde hair and blue eyes, who looked like a porn-star, worked as a model, and on our second date, tried to bring another girl back to my place. The second girl she brought back was way too drunk so I took her home, came back, and did the deed. And felt so gross. I literally had zero interest in who she was and I’m not the kind of person who looks to date or sleep with someone I’m not interested in.

It was like I had climbed this mountain of self-improvement, so that women would pay more attention to me, only to to realize that the person I had turned myself into was finally capable of landing the kind of woman I had no interest in. Well then.

That was about 3 years ago. I’ve had time to reflect. With the rise of r/niceguys, I’ve thought a fair bit about the path I’ve taken.

The first thing that I had to face was that I spent most of my adolescent and adult life trying to become the kind of guy that girls would be interested in. When I was young, I modeled so much of my behavior after prince charming. The good guy, the hero, the gentleman, the nice guy. That earned me as many female friends as I wanted, but no real relationships. The girls I did date either got disinterested or cheated on me. Once I realized being nice didn’t work, I modeled myself after the reformed gangster. The bad boy, the outlaw, the guy who had seen some shit but didn’t wanna talk about it, and the guy who did bad but now chose to do good. That earned me as many dates as I wanted, but again, no real relationships. I was a fixer-upper that women were keen to get to work on, but I had no interest in being fixed.

There’s a dynamic here worth exploring.

There seems to be this cat and mouse game going on between men and women. But who’s the cat and who’s the mouse? As much as personal preference came into play, there would always be a few guys that almost all the girls were into. There were also more than a few guys who almost all the girls were never into. To some degree, there was a male hierarchy, that was determined by female preferences in dating. It was the alpha males and the beta males.

Interesting.

In an age where people are talking about women needing to be more powerful, I can’t help but think this is a dynamic we’ve yet to really appreciate. Men, in their formative years, model so much of their behavior after what they think will give them the best chance of being with a woman.

As with most major issues in the world, I can’t help but think that this would be easily solved with the use of blatant honesty. I think a good starting point would be for women to be completely honest about what they find attractive, and communicate how that changes over the course of their lives. I suspect that most girls grow up thinking that they want a prince charming but as they start to grow into women, they start to realize that life’s a little more complicated than the fairy tales they grew up with. Turns out that prince charming doesn’t actually exist, and even if he did… meh. At this point, it becomes an exercise in women exploring what they do want. It can be tough to be honest about this though. Especially when you’re trying to maintain an image of innocence, sexual exclusivity, or any other quality that women tend to assume they should be projecting. It’s not honest though, and it’s confusing the hell out of the guys.

Men aren’t off the hook. Not even close. Maybe, in a roundabout way, women facilitated the creation of the ‘nice guy’. But seriously, how about we don’t play the victim here? The modern ‘nice guy’ is no longer defined by being a good person. He’s now defined by the pain and frustration that comes with years of rejection. And perhaps a mistrust of women, betrayed by the nice guy philosophy which he was convinced would lead to that elusive girlfriend and social acceptance. I understand where those emotions come from… I’ve experienced that same frustration… but get over it.

If you had focused on you, focused on becoming an interesting and accomplished individual with the patience to wait for the right woman to come along, you probably would’ve been fine. Instead, you tried to become who you thought women wanted you to be. You got it wrong. You thought they just wanted someone who treats them well. They want more. A lot more. They want someone they feel safe around, they want someone who can make them laugh, they want someone who can make them think, someone who can introduce them to new things, someone they can introduce to new things, someone who will truly understand and support who they are. And etc., and etc. Not to mention, they want to feel that physical chemistry. If all you got is nice, it’s not enough. If all you’ve got is nice, you haven’t earned shit. Even when a girl says all she wants is a nice guy, they’re still not talking about you. Until you’ve figured out who you are, found your reason for wanting to be a good human being, and are no longer projecting your issues onto others, you’re not ready for dating.

So what happens when you figure out that women aren’t really looking for just another nice guy? Well I’m not sure if it’s the default, but a lot of nice guys are becoming assholes, thinking, “shit, well if I’m gonna get rejected, I might as well be an ass about it.” And maybe there’s this sense of karma where you’re thinking, “You want to date a jerk? I’ll show you a jerk!” All that’s really happened though, is you went from the uninteresting nice guy, to the uninteresting asshole. Or, maybe you were always an ass, but thought that being a nice was going to sweep her off her feet. Stop it. It’s not working. It’s never worked. It’s unlikely to ever work in your lifetime. Focus on being a good person, through and through, and move on with your life. That was my saving grace. I was always more interested in being a good person than being a boyfriend. While I was able to play the role of the disinterested bad boy, I think it’s unlikely that the girls I dated would’ve stuck around for as long as they did if there wasn’t more to it.

Thinking back on it all now, had I focused on being the best version of myself, it may have led to fewer relationships, but it probably would’ve led to more meaningful relationships. Healthier relationships. The kind of relationships which weren’t, in-part, defined by trying to be what I thought someone else wanted me to be, when in reality, nobody really understood any of what was going on.

An ENTJ Love Story

I did my first MBTI questionnaire about 12 years ago. I was in my early 20s and thought personality tests were a bit flaky but humored the 70 question quiz and arrived at the letters: ENTJ. I started reading the overview and I remember thinking holy shit, this is real. It told me several things I already knew about myself which seemed to verify its accuracy, but then it told me a bunch of things I didn’t yet understand about myself, which was enlightening. Then I saw the suggested careers and got a solid ego boost. ‘The Executive’, destined for roles like CEO, Judge, University Professor… clearly I had hit the jackpot. I became a proud ENTJ, telling everyone about the test and recommending they take it. Little did I know, ENTJs don’t always experience emotions like others. I wasn’t prepared for the world of hurt that I would bring to the girls I dated.

At 28, I tried to lock down one of the greatest women I had ever met, beautiful inside and out. It made so much sense for so many reasons. It wasn’t messy. It was a happy ending waiting to happen. It was a disaster. She grew up in a military family that moved around a lot and that meant that family was everything to her. I grew up in a broken home with a father who worked a lot and a mother who avoided the kids. My biggest priority was my career, so I could be in a position to give my family a good life, and have the time to spend with them. I wasn’t willing to compromise on building the foundation I wanted to bring a family into, she wasn’t willing to compromise on waiting that long. I thought that I was thinking logically while she was thinking emotionally. I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t understand me, she probably felt the same. We broke up after a year. She was engaged 3 months later and was married a few months ago. I haven’t spoken to her since we broke up but I genuinely wish her the best.

Then came tinder. I’ll be happy to say that if you are willing to put the effort in, you can find quality people on tinder. I went on some dates, met some cool people, and even dated one for a few months.

Then I met her.

For today, let’s call her Max. She was 5’2″, 110lbs, black hair, and had the most amazing eyes I had ever seen. With all the brain cells I’ve lost over the years (combat sports), I still remember that moment so clearly. A mutual friend had invited me to a start-up’s open house so I came by for some light networking. I was on their southwest patio talking to the founders of app that lets you pay for parking at city meters when she was introduced. I suck at names. I consider them one of the least important pieces of information to observe when meeting someone. I’ve never once forgot hers. We stood on the patio chatting for a while and I’m sure I looked ridiculous staring so intently into the eyes of someone I had just met. Fuck it.

I’m sure one of us was trying to play it cool and broke things off to hang out with other people, but eventually we ended up on one of the couches chatting about finance of all things – turns out she was a CA. She understands money too? Jackpot. I got her email, and sent something over soon after. I’m not very good at hitting on girls, for most of my life I waited for them to hit on me… but Max had me feeling bold. I don’t remember what I said, but it worked and we had a lunch date.

We grabbed lunch at a spot just around the corner from her work that she had wanted to try. They had fancy chicken – and it was really good. We talked about all kinds of things, and of course, the conversation could barely keep up with the things we had in common. By the end of that first date, I knew something was different… way different. She was a kind of special I had never known, and I was excited. I wasn’t alone on this as Max later told me that when she went back to the office, she told her best friend that she just met her future husband.

On the next date, she told me she had just gotten out of a relationship that she still hadn’t entirely gotten out of. I wasn’t bothered and said I’d give her time and space. She told me that she had struggled with some addiction issues in that relationship. I told her about mine. She told me that she had cheated on almost every boyfriend she had. I told her that maybe she had yet to find someone worth being loyal to.

It didn’t take her long to move on from her ex (kinda), but she told me that she had a tendency to jump from one relationship to the next and really wanted to see what it was like to be single and date, but she was torn because of what was happening between us. I wasn’t bothered in the least, I told her to hit up tinder and see where it takes her. She did, she went on a few dates with a few nice guys, and would then go home, call me, and tell me all about them. I didn’t mind, because I knew that we had already fallen for each other and that this was just her process of making sure. We used to joke and say ‘let’s be real… who else but me?’

After a couple weeks of hanging out 24/7, we were walking into a Canadian Tire, and I don’t remember what she did but I just looked at her and said, I….. lesbian you. I know what I meant, but this soon? Illogical. I made a game of it and probably said ‘I lesbian you’ a half dozen times over the next week. Not long after, we were in bed one night, and she looked at me with those incredible eyes and told me that she loved me. I was so in love with her – and this time I didn’t try to hide it.

We made attempts at taking it slow, but it wasn’t working. She was perfect for me in all these ways that I hadn’t even realized were important. At one point, we looked at MBTI compatibility and even there, we were a prefect match. We committed to not moving in together before her lease was up which gave us about 9 months. We didn’t make it.

I was neck deep in a career that was tearing me apart from the inside. I was a rookie Investment Advisor for a top bank, building a book of wealthy clients. . Part of what she admired about me was that I was able to conduct myself as a professional at the highest levels, but deep down, was still just a kid from the hood. It wasn’t quite a dual personality, but it was close. There was the me which tried to abide by banking culture, and the real me. I had decided that the real me had to step aside and let banker me establish himself in the industry. Real me always kept one hand on the wheel, but banker me started calling more and more shots for the sake of job security.

The real me understood her, loved her, and appreciated her. Banker me did too, but banker me also wanted her to be a little more banker-y and a less like herself. One of her best qualities was her fearless honesty. But fearless honesty can make for awkward first impressions and awkward first impressions can sour client relationships and spook prospective clients. I tried to tell her this by asking her to focus on things she had in common with the people she was meeting. She resisted, saying that when she used to work at a major accounting firm, she was constantly having to behave like someone she wasn’t, and that she had gotten to a place in her life where she finally was able to be herself and felt good about it. I told her that’s what I wanted for her too, but that I didn’t have that luxury and if I was going to continue along this career path, she either had to find a way to make it work, or I’d have to leave her at home. Considering that my career forced me to be ‘on’ all the time, in hindsight, that was a ridiculous thing to ask of her.

We never completely resolved that issue, but we compromised to a point where… I’m tempted to say it was good, but it wouldn’t be true. I imposed my logic, she conceded. I feel sick to my stomach right now just writing that. I’m so sorry. My eyes are literally watering up right now, what kind of ENTJ am I? She made that concession for me and my career and I will never impose that on anyone ever again. What makes it worse is that she didn’t concede because I was smart or right, she conceded because she was beyond motivated to make this relationship work. She would often tell me that this was the first relationship where she wanted to put in work, and do the things we needed to do. She inspired me. She was the best.

Then came what actually broke us apart. She had spent her entire life living in the same city. It was a world class city, but she was dying to get out. I couldn’t leave. My career was tied to my client base which was almost entirely local. She would say ‘what if it was for the opportunity of a lifetime?’ I would tell her that’s what I already had here. She would toss out the idea of long distance. I told her years of long distance after a few months of dating probably wasn’t the recipe for a healthy relationship. She wanted to go as much as she wanted to bring me with her. Her company started tossing out the idea of moving her to their SF headquarters. After talking about it, we decided that we’d delay any moves until we had been together for a year and make the decision then.

It didn’t matter. She would ask about doing an MBA in Toronto. Then about a tech job in California. How cool it would be to live in a place like NY for a couple years. My response was always the same, if you really want to go, I think you should go, but I can’t come with you, and there won’t be a long distance relationship. She would persist, but she always decided to stay – until she didn’t. She brought it up so many times that I didn’t have any other answers to give her – until I told her she should go and that the relationship was over. She handled herself with class, even when she came back a few days later to get her things. When she did, she looked at me asking, “is this it?” The ENTJ was back, I told her it was and went back in the house.

Shortly after an ex started texting me. We did the deed. She was the one I had dated just before Max and was still a little hung up on me. We didn’t use protection. I should’ve. She told me that I was the last person she slept with, and I trusted her. Then Max starting texting me We hung out a few times and yes, even some stellar sex for good measure. We were in a good place. We knew that we each had things to work on and were eager to work on them so that we could find our way back to each other as better people. Eventually she told me that it was a bad idea, that breaking up with the goal of getting back together wasn’t really breaking up, and I agreed. Didn’t change the fact that I was still hoping we’d have another chance down the road.

Then came the dagger. I was helping my sister move to LA when I got a text from Max. It read something to the effect of my ex just texted me letting me know that he tested positive for something and I’m really sorry but I needed to let you know. I said sorry to hear it, but I got tested after we broke up and I’m all good. That’s not what she meant. What she was trying to tell me is that right after we broke up, she had unprotected sex with her ex, and then unprotected sex with me. That dagger cut deeper than anything I had experienced and almost every part of me that cared about her shut off almost immediately. I deleted and blocked her number. Then she whatsapp’d me so I blocked and deleted her there too. Then FB messenger – block/delete. I don’t think it was until she emailed me that I gave her any kind of response. And I wasn’t looking to talk about it, I was looking to make her face the reality of what she had done, make her feel shitty about it, and then disconnect.

The part of this story that I left out until now is the nature of the relationship she had with her ex. It was a slow breakup. She still cared a great deal about him. He was still in love with her. They bought a dog together. I’m not sure if it was familiarity or attachment, but she kept going back. For the first month or so, she would be over at his place about once a week. She never hid it from me. The first time I piped up was when she came to my place from his loaded up on ketamine. I didn’t need to be jealous to see an unhealthy dynamic. She responded well.

As the months went on, she would still talk about her ex from time to time, and I really didn’t mind it. What I did mind was the lingering attachment, paired with drugs and a history of cheating. Not long before we broke up, he called her while we were driving home and kept her on the phone until about 2am. Most of that conversation was in my bed. I could hear him asking her why they weren’t getting back together and the mixed signals she was sending him. I heard her tell him that she was happy with me, and that she wasn’t trying to send mixed signals.

Years ago, I dated someone who had cheated on all of her exes and waded fearlessly into that as well. I learned in that relationship that you’ll never know whether or not they’re cheating so trust that they aren’t until you have a real reason to think that they are. Max was testing my limits of what I considered to be a real reason. When she told me that she went straight back to him after we had broken up, in my mind, it was like I was the one who had come between her and the person she actually wanted to be with. Dagger.

After I blocked and deleted her out of my phone, she emailed me pleading to have a conversation. I told her that having unprotected sex with someone else, and then having unprotected sex with me was a huge issue. That because of her carelessness, my health is now at risk. I probably gave her shit for going back to her ex too, but I don’t remember the details. What I remember most is being hurt, wanting her to feel hurt, and knowing that the best thing I could do was create space between us.

My only communication with with her after that was when I tried to redeem my birthday and Christmas gift cards that she had given me the past December. It was two tickets to bungee jumping and two for skydiving, something she was excited to do together. By the time I looked to use them, they had already been used. Apparently she still had the originals. Ironically, I had also gotten her a skydiving jump for Christmas, so my revenge was sending her an email letting her know that I wasn’t going to use hers, and I hope she has a chance to enjoy it. She said she probably wouldn’t as she was moving to San Francisco. That’s the last I heard from her. That was about a year and a half ago.

So why blog this? Why now? ENTJs don’t deal in heartbreak let alone dwell in it. Maybe I’m no longer a classic ENTJ.

Remember when I said that my career was tearing me apart inside? The real me never took his hand off the wheel. Management kept putting me in situations where I was expected to put the bank’s interests ahead of my clients’ interests. They thought that dangling a 7 figure income in front of me would be enough to compromise my integrity. It wasn’t. In those environments, the nail which sticks out is the one that gets hammered. They started moving me towards the door, so I used my trump card. I reached out to a senior advisor who spent most of his career in management with the bank I was with. He had been asking me to join his team for a few years but I kept declining as he was in a small town about 5 hours away and I was invested heavily in the area I was in. I knew that if I asked for advice, he’d give me the job. So I did. And he did.

The move surprised a lot of people. I think most people would’ve assumed I wouldn’t leave the city that I had such deep roots in. What they didn’t know is that when my father passed away, he left a few hundred thousand dollars to the kids – in a hold co that I was exclusively in charge of. Barely enough for a down payment on a house these days, but I knew that I could put that money to work and turn it into a meaningful part of my dad’s legacy. The only direction he ever gave me with it was that if one of the kids had a business venture worth investing in, this could be for that.

The role that I had at the bank had a base salary in the first year, but then went to pure commission. The first few years were notoriously lean because the role was mostly wining and dining, and it was all out of pocket. Being in one of the world’s most expensive cities didn’t help. Most would fail out of the program for financial reasons and the bank would retain their clients all the same. In year one, I ran close to a break even. In year 2, my income was cut in half and I started drawing from the hold co to keep my head above water. In year 3, I drew less, but still some. By year 4, I passed break even and was quickly moving towards 6 figures. The last paycheck before the move cleared my credit card and line of credit. Replacing the money I had borrowed from the hold co was next. Protecting my father’s legacy was more important than where I worked, where I lived, and especially more important than any impact this would all have on me.

So I moved to that small town to work under one of the top advisory teams in the whole firm. Things went sideways quickly. I got along well with the branch, the team, the clients, and the lead advisor, but again, I didn’t get along well with management. The branch manager was trying to play politics; I didn’t buy in. He expected loyalty, but my loyalty was always to my clients and the team. He figured that out pretty quick. I was fired 2 months after arriving, against the wishes of the team, and for reasons which would never survive the most basic of HR investigations.

I left the office that day with just as much drive as I came in with. I am an unstoppable force of nature and this will not compromise my momentum. It was Monday and I told myself I’d have a new job lined up by Friday. And then I went straight to the dispensary and bought a pile of weed for the first time since I had got there. Alone, in a small house, in a small town, disconnected from the outside world and no longer being defined by my career, I had an opportunity to figure out what really happened. Blaming the bank for being shady was a cop out. I needed to understand what I did, what I could’ve done, and why I didn’t do it. Success rarely comes easily for me, but this was the first time in my life that I had dedicated myself to something completely, and had failed.

I used to play a lot of texas hold’em. I think it should be a standard part of any school curriculum because it’s an excellent teacher of probability and the nature of cirmstance. The best hand you can be dealt can still lose to the worst hand in the deck, if the circumstances aren’t in your favor. For most people, that’s the nature of luck. For me, it showed how important it was to create or find the best circumstances for my success.

The bank was a massive bureaucratic entity which marketed themselves to the public as advice, but operated internally like cut throat sales. Middle management didn’t have the balls to tell upper management that their sales targets were so unrealistic that most people who were achieving them were doing them in a way which was continuing to degrade the trust that the public had in the banks. I’m a leader and a problem solver that looks to challenge the status quo to make the world a better place for everyone. They wanted a soldier who would ignore the problems, stay within the lines, and make management look good. I didn’t realize how much of myself I was giving up to be there.

Shit. Is this what Max felt when she left her big accounting firm? She would tell me how much happier she was, how she was finally being herself and how liberating it was. And I was telling her to go backwards. Not only that, when I was imposing my logic, I would remind her that I was 3 years older and therefore likely more experienced in these kinds of things. I grew up fighting for everything that I had. I learned to convince people that I was right even when I knew I was wrong. Maybe old habits die hard. I’m such an ass.

After I got fired, I broke my arm pretty bad. 7mm separation, 6 screws, 2 plates, detached wrist, ligament damaged, and nerve damage. I refused opiates. I smoke more weed. Interesting things happen when a logical mind disconnects from the outside world. There’s no noise, no distractions, just the universe as it exists. I learned a lot about myself. I learned a lot about the world around me. I learned a lot about my/our place in the universe.

I may not be pocket aces, but I know I’m a hand worth playing. There are no guarantees in life. The proverbial bus is always just around the corner, but that doesn’t mean I won’t give it my god damn all put everything I have into this universe and make it a better place for those who are ready to be happy.

There are 3 events in my life that stand out as moments of intense personal growth. The first was grade 12 when I went from minimal effort and average grades to maximum effort and the grades that I needed to get into top universities. That’s where I learned the value of work ethic. The second was when my dad passed away and I learned about mortality and what it means to be responsible for others. The third was being fired from a career where I gave it my all, and it still wasn’t enough. That’s where I learned that for me to be successful in that environment, I would’ve had to fundamentally change who I was – or for me to be successful, I had to find an environment that encouraged my best. To find that environment, I first had to understand who I was and what I had to offer. During that search, I started to realize that I was weirder than I thought I was. I spent most of my life trying to fit in, trying to fit the mold the people around me told me I should fit. I did it well. It wasn’t me. I’m so much more.

When I started tapping into my inner weirdness – what made me different – I found genius. This had nothing to do smarts, but everything to do with finding what made me different from everyone else. What made me different from everyone else was the source of what I could do better than everyone else. My niche. My element. My gift. It didn’t apply to just me, it literally applied to everyone. What would the world look like if we were all given the opportunity to be in our element? It was an unrealistic concept in the past, but on the verge of mass automation, it’s now a future worth considering. Then it occurred to me that happiness may be a function of maximum utility. If you get to spend your time doing what you were built to do, there’s an alignment there which I don’t think can be undervalued.

I went off the deep end didn’t I? I smoked way too much weed this year. These concepts are so far detached from mainstream reality that they can’t be real. So why do I see the universe more clearly than I ever have? Why does everything make so much sense now? I’ve gone off the deep end…

I’m moving into the unknown, and I have no interest in coming back. I know how logical my mind is. I know how critical I am of my own thoughts and the information I’m presented. I know how open minded I am to new information. I’m tempted to say I’m delusional. Maybe I am. But I don’t think I am. I’m too analytical for that, too pragmatic. Too honest with myself.

So what do you do when you think you’ve cracked the code to human happiness, and recognize the systems in place across the world that discourage the vast majority of us from coming anywhere near? What happens when you see the fundamental flaws in these systems and can’t help but can’t help but have an intense motivation to fix them? What happens when you become fixated on changing the world for the better, but realize how hard the establishment will fight to maintain the status quo. You solve for x.

But I’m scared.

I’m never scared. Never. When I was in my early 20s, I got jumped. There were a few of them.. they had a knife and someone was getting a gun. They wanted access to my family to make sure that I wouldn’t go to the police. They told me if I didn’t give them up, they’d have to kill me. I respectfully told them that if they’re making me choose between my life and my family’s safety, I choose my family every time. There isn’t much left to be scared of when you’ve made peace with death. For the longest time, I thought I would be invincible until I wasn’t. Nothing could hurt me. Fear wasn’t unwelcome, it was barely a distant memory.

I’m not scared of pain or loss, I’m scared of being alone. I’m scared that I’m right about what I see and what I know. I’m scared that if I follow this path, others won’t be ready to come with. I’m scared this is a path I’ll have to travel alone and eventually I’ll lose the opportunity to connect – and I’ll be lost and alone.

If what I know is real, it will catch on. Maybe in my lifetime, maybe not. But even if it does, I’m not looking for fans. I’d rather have people appreciate my work than know who I am, but neither would fill this void. I don’t want to walk this path alone. I will because I owe it to myself and to the world to give everything that I have, but I don’t want to walk that path alone.

Every person I’ve ever been with, fell for the person I was projecting, not for who I was. Except Max. She saw exactly who I was right away, and she fell madly in love with that person. She used to call me her benevolent robot king. I was barely the king of my basement suite. It didn’t matter. She found me well before I found myself.

When I think about going off the deep end – into the unknown – and talking about things like revolution.. there’s only one person I can see putting up with me. Only one person who would be brave enough to make that jump. Only one person who effortlessly understands the depths of who I am. The only person with whom I’ve ever experienced unconditional love. It’s Max.

When she and I dated, I was struggling. I was struggling with my career. I was struggling with who I was. I even struggled with my weight after I tore my hamstring. She got the worst of me… and she loved me anyways. I refuse to put her though that again.

I started thinking about Max more and more over the last few months. It was only recently that I realized why. There’s now this swell of motivation to be better. I stopped smoking weed. I cleaned up my diet. I’m back to training and in best shape I’ve been in a long time. I’m writing more than I ever have. I’m getting dialed in. And none of this is for Max, but I’d be lying to myself if I said it wasn’t partly because of her.

I’m too pragmatic, too logical to hope that she’s sitting around waiting for me to call. She’s the kinda girl who’s only single if she wants to be. And even if she was, she lives in SF. I’m not doing any of this so she’ll take me back, I’m doing all of this because I want to be the caliber of person who’s capable of being with her.

If I’m going to be that person, I need to put in work. Not just on the physical, but on the emotional too. I need to be more than an ENTJ. This story has been an exercise in flushing this all out. That part about me being scared? I didn’t know that before writing it here. There are a lot of things I didn’t know before writing them here. I did know I needed to write this though.

In a few weeks, when I feel like I have clarity of mind, I’m going to make a YouTube video and send her the link. It’s going to be an apology. I want her to know that I’m sorry for trying to change her into someone I knew she wasn’t. I want her to know that I’m sorry for cutting her out of my life because the truth is I didn’t give a shit about possibly testing positive for an STI. I was hurt because I had found someone who I knew was so special to me, and I was afraid that I wasn’t nearly as special to her. I want her to know that I’m sorry I couldn’t give her my best, and that I’ll always appreciate that she found a way to love me so unconditionally when I was at my worst. I’ll tell her that while I’m not doing this for her, or to get back together, she deserves the satisfaction of knowing that she’s the one who inspired this.

And I guess we’ll see what happens.