Doing good all by myself

We've all heard that phrase "I can do bad all by myself," usually spoken by someone disgruntled within their partnered relationship. It never sat right with me, because isn't the idea that you can do good all by yourself, or at least do better than the current less than optimal situation? Why veer to saying "This is bad, but if it's going to be bad, I'll just do it alone." I want to understand, because I haven't had the thought of wanting to leave someone so I could just own credit for all the badness, alone. I've left relationships with the thought that being without the other person would be an improvement.

In the case of my marriage, I stayed on the fence for a long time, concerned that leaving would be akin to "fucking up my life" (no, I never understood that either, because why would leaving something that is not working be considered "fucking up your life?") This is the narrative we buy, though, and overcoming that to pursue an unseen life on the other side of what I had known for decades, was scary, especially when knowing that choice impacts people you love who had no vote in that decision. Fear can keep us safe. We are constantly trying to survive and fear can tell you, "Look, maybe you're not happy here, but it's familiar, and you know you can live in this situation. Just stick around awhile longer, and who knows, maybe at some point things will even improve." Leaving looked like, "Can I even pay all of the bills on my salary alone?" Living alone means thinking "I might die in alone that house and no one will know until someone  happens to find me." It means all of the tasks I don't want to do will still have to be done by me, or I have to hire someone (which means picking up he phone and calling someone, and then paying them, ugh). It means if I fail to flush the toilet, and I open up the lid later to find a big shaggy turd stewing, there's no one to blame but me (and somehow this seems like a fitting, albeit stinky metaphor).

I'm not doing "bad" all by myself, I'm accountable to myself. I don't have a partner to blame when something goes sideways. When my kids are here, I don't have back up and have to plan accordingly. I've also reduced my exposure to emotional abuse, recurring unresolved issues, and the pressure of being a food shopper, meal preparer, alarm clock, sex provider, personal motivator, appointment rememberer, security blanket, and unskilled therapist for someone else. I've increased my responsibilities for running a household, while also reducing my personal stress level.

It isn't for everyone, and this isn't me looking down on those who are partnered and/or living in a full house. In my case, I missed that step of living alone as an adult, and I skipped it on purpose, out of fear, and because I believed I could tip my life towards security by pairing up with someone I believed was a solid bet. If you don't give yourself the chance to learn whether you could do something alone, you also spare yourself from learning if you might have failed at it. Time to find out.

And then...

This is a follow up from the not at all predictable cliffhanger of a previous post. As suspected, my coworker asked me out. As suspected, I am sure he's perfectly nice, but I don't have the energy or motivation to participate.

The asking out came with a lame job joke ("I'm applying to the position") and I let it slide, then, but when he repeated it later, I said, "I'm not hiring." Look, if I didn't laugh at the joke the first time, the solution is not to repeat it because you think I didn't hear it, but to understand I heard you just fine, I just didn't find it funny.

There's no "position." I feel like so many people know how to take those first steps to express interest, but they don't want to actually connect. I don't have confidence that many men can pursue friendship with a woman without treating it like it's a path to the big prize of romance. They want to look at a pretty face across a restaurant dinner table, hide the hard to accept parts of themselves, and have someone to receive the texts they send throughout the day.

I know how terribly jaded that sounds, and this guy did nothing wrong. He's entered my life at a time when my trust in men is at an all time low. I do not trust that I can communicate how I want to be treated, be heard, and then be treated in the way I requested. When he asked me out, I am pretty sure I let out a sigh and said "Get to know me." I said the selves we show each other in a work setting are not really who we are, it's just a small part. The friendly, funny, and yes, pleasant version of me one will encounter in a professional setting is the side I am choosing to show because I like to receive a paycheck. It is a means to an end. If you decide that's who I am, and then proceed to get angry or disappointed when I then begin to exhibit behaviors of a whole human being, that is on you. It's been known to happen.

Strike two, he asked my age, and when I said it, he replied, "You look good for your age." Sigggh. Please, take this as a hint from me and every other human being on the planet, adding "for your age" onto a compliment that could and should stand alone, is unnecessary and backhanded.

Strike three (let's just get there, shall we?), when discussing how Saturday turned into a "really beautiful day" he responded, "Ohhh, you mean beautiful like you?"

What is anyone supposed to say to that? Just, why? Is he saying something genuine or what he thinks I want to hear? Am I supposed to gush and blush? "At what point do I cut slingload and spare us both a lot of pain? John Mayer is a douchebag, but I have to agree with this statement: 

"If you're pretty, you're pretty; but the only way to be beautiful is to be loving. Otherwise, it's just “congratulations about your face.”