My Dating Ego

Let’s all take a moment, close our eyes, and imagine a solar system in which our dating life and our ego were not intrinsically intertwined. What a simpler universe that would be. I’m guessing that in such a world, people actually say what’s on their mind and store bought CDs are actually easy to open. While I’ve strived to create such a world of emotional sanity for myself, it ain’t happening. Why? Because the older and theoretically wiser I get, the more I realize my ego is the evil brute force behind ninety nine percent of the bad decisions in my life – especially romantic ones.

Let’s use as an example the utterly pathetic love story that inspired me to write ‘The Grey Relationship." In me and my partner’s agonizingly subtle grey relationship break-up, he put the sexual breaks on the relationship before I did. Had I considered doing the same thing weeks, if not months earlier? Yes. Did I know this relationship was unhealthy and going nowhere? Yes. Was I hoping it would end soon anyway? Absolutely. Yet naturally I was filled with pure outrage when he decided we should maneuver toward the land of ‘just friends’ before me. Instead of being happy I put yet another worthless relationship behind me without a difficult and uncomfortable confrontation, I just feel rejected. My pesky ego then begins thumping through every fiber of my body screaming: ‘work to get this guy back.’ Suddenly, Mr. Wrong is Mr. Hard to Get. And every girl loves a challenge. An inner dialogue ensues that goes something like this:

Me: Why would I want this dysfunctional grey relationship to continue? The sex wasn’t even good enough to make it worthwhile.
My Ego: I bet the sex is good with the new Norwegian super model he dumped you for.
Me: He knew we mutually wanted to end things. It was a tacit understanding. He just took the initiative.
My Ego: ‘Tacit understanding.’ The drugs you’re deluding yourself with must be really powerful. Wake up! He doesn’t want you anymore.
Me: That’s fine. I knew this wouldn’t work out from the get-go. And I’m sure my hips have nothing to do with it.
My Ego: But how you smell might.
Me: He’s fine with the way I smell. At least…he was…
My Ego: Explain all the wasted hours envisioning what beautiful children you’d have together?
Me: We WOULD have beautiful children, so what?
My Ego: Honey, you’re future husband just DUMPED you like your months of faux intimacy didn’t even matter.
Me: (finally in nervous breakdown mode) GAAAAA! Do you think if I wear my red cocktail dress and slut heels tonight he’ll take me back?
My Ego: It’s worth a shot.

Hence my pride prevents me from acting rationally and letting a relationship come to its natural end. I think our female ego is one of the biggest obstacles to a clean break-up, right next to loneliness. And sure sexual rejection hurts, but when it’s in both of your best interests, you’d think a mature, intelligent human being would get over that and move on. Instead, I end up performing the emotional equivalent of running into a wall repeatedly until I slither, beat-up, into the fetal position in the corner, feeling rejected now not once, but ten times. I think this horrific image transitions into my next frightening, existential question: How much of why we date someone in the first place has to do with them, and how much has to do with our overly ambitious pride?

I’ll be first in line to admit that often, subconsciously, I’m attracted to someone for all the wrong reasons – chiefly being that they make ME look good instead of that they are good FOR me. Men that I feel make me look good are usually handsome types that can pull off wearing white linen pants or headbands. Neither of those qualifications mean they’re
a) literate
b) tolerable or
c) a good match for me
Therefore my initial attraction to the opposite sex is fundamentally distorted from the beginning thanks to my exhibitionist side forcing me to care so much about what the outside world thinks. When it comes to micromanaging and especially ending dysfunctional relationships, my evil ego whispers in my ear that I shouldn’t be letting that ‘catch’ get away. In reality, my ‘catch’ is an essentially unemployed partying playboy with no personality, no sensitivity, and no future that doesn’t involve jumping up and down on club banquette couches.

How to tame the ego? That’s another topic for another day. I’ll get back to you when I have some answers.