Archive for the ‘Advice to the Love-Crazed’ Category
August 26, 2006
how can i make him love me?
Remember seeing the title of this blog on my list of search phrases last week? That one really tugged at my heart because it looked to me as though it were written by someone very, very young. I thought at the time, maybe I can say something to make her feel a little better–although probably not, because when you’re that young, the answer you really want is how to make it happen, not that you can’t.
But hon, whoever you are, if you’re reading this, the fact is, you really can’t, because real love, the kind that lasts over time, is something that happens to two people when they’re least expecting it, and it can’t be rushed or made to happen by using some magic formula. It’s just not possible, because love is the deepest emotion we can give to one another, and it’s too deep to buy or manufacture. It just is what it is. It just happens and zap! There you are.
But when it’s real, it happens to both of you, and both of your lives become better because of it.
People throughout the ages have asked the question, “What is love?” and far be it for me to even pretend to give you exactly the right answer for YOU. I can only give you my opinion and insight, so here we go:
Love is not, first of all, sex. That’s part of it, but not by a long shot is it all of it. However, too many of us, especially when we’re young, think that first burst of sexual attraction, or lust, or whatever you want to call it, is love. But no. It’s not. It’s sexual attraction, pure and simple, which is a perfectly normal reaction for two people to have toward each other. But it’s not love. Not yet.
It takes time for true love to grow. You may think, when you see a face across a crowded room and want to jump his bones right then and there, that you’re in love. But you’ve just stumbled onto the tip of the iceberg.
Sexual attraction may grow into love and it often does–but not all the time, because so many other things enter into this thing called love, and a simple thing like the way he reacts when you’re sick, or not at your best, can either enhance or destroy the whole illusion before it even begins to turn into the kind of love you’re thinking about–the home in the suburbs, the 2.3 children, the dog, the vacations together, the long, uninterrupted nights in bed together before those 2.3 children show up, all those things we all like to think of as true love.
You see, there are two separate personalities that enter into this alliance we call true love, and they both are attracted to different things for reasons that really have nothing to do with either one of you individually. This is because the things that cause us to feel the way we feel at twenty are pretty much determined by the time a child is four or five, and maybe even younger.
His background is different than yours in so many ways, even if you’ve always lived in the same neighborhood. His parents and their expectations are different than yours in many subtle ways. There’s a whole world of difference between the two of you, aside from the more interesting physical ones. And most times, it takes real love to overcome them so you can actually live together over time and still love each other when you’re sixty four, as Paul McCartney put it so well.
Sometimes, if it is real love, working those things out over time can be fun. And sometimes they’re not fun at all, but it’s the not-fun ones you have to work at.
I remember a while back, a friend of mine got married and not one month after the wedding she wanted a divorce, and she wasn’t kidding one little bit. Why?
Two things. He squeezed the toothpaste tube and left it like that, and she always rolled it up. The other one? When she made a bowl of pudding, in her family they always took a knife and cut equal parts for everyone in the family before they served it, and in his family they just dug in whenever they felt like it.
Now that might sound like I’m making light of the whole love thing, but think about it. If you spent your entire life with a family who cut the pudding first, and he spent his whole life with a family that just scooped out what they wanted whenever they wanted it, those things are pretty well ingrained in both of you, and it’s hard to give up what you’ve always done.
Those two simple things caused what I could only call The War of the Roses. They fought it out in epic proportions for almost a month before one gave in. I don’t know who gave in, but one did. She forgot about the divorce and they lived happily ever after, last I heard.
The point I’m making is, someone always has to give in and you have to be prepared for that with this person you want so much he’s on your mind thirty-six hours a day. But if all you have is sexual attraction, you need to understand ahead of time, this wears down after a while, although we always think it won’t. As people far wiser than I have said, there has to be something else to take its place or at least add to it.
Two people meet. One person falls in love. The other person doesn’t. Oh, they may think they’re both in love and get along just fine as long as they’re mainly just having good hot sex. But sooner or later, something else has to take the place of some of that hot sex. That’s the point at which one may realize he or she doesn’t really love the other person, and may not know how to tell them.
But actions speak louder than words. My grandma told me that, and it’s still true today. Someone can tell you they love you, they may tell you that every day and every night, but if they start acting weird, if they’re pulling away, if they’re suddenly too busy, too distant, if you can’t get hold of them, if they’re impatient when they are with you, if nothing you do is right all of a sudden, when it seemed so right before, those are all signs THAT person wasn’t really in love. In which case, there is no true love, even if one of you does still feel it.
And there’s nothing you can do about it except say goodbye, and move on with your life.
Then one day, you’ll meet someone who is right for you, who doesn’t care whether you have makeup on or not, who will bring you chicken soup from the deli when you’re sick, who will go to the ends of the earth for you if need be, and who will never, ever, no matter what, deviate from that.
Then, and only then, you’ll probably have true love, the kind that lasts through parental interference, wrecked cars, sick kids, hurricanes, kids who grow up and for some reason become unruly and troublesome, ballooning house payments, all the negative things that happen to most of us over time, and he will still love you just as much, and probably a lot more than he did at the beginning.
When you find that, you won’t have to ask how you can make him love you, because if it’s right, if it’s good, if it makes a better person of both of you, you will have true love and you’ll know it.
I hope this happens for you soon, but if it doesn’t, please don’t worry, hon. It will.
See y’all next week, folks. Thanks so much for stopping by. Come again soon, ya hear me?
Hots Herself, who is thinking that anyone who wants to write a romance will probably also get a lot out of what I just wrote, because romances are all about finding true love.
May 10, 2006
Can You Say “NARCISSIST”?
Hello Again, my loves, from the Riviera, where Count Babbalallapaloozo and I are enjoying all the amenities of home (his) on his yacht. Gold fixtures in the bathrooms the size of Beth Anderson’s entire house, a few new hot-and-cold running Elloras Cave-type waitstaff, which the Count hired while I was back in Chicago helping my other, more serious half, Beth, finish THE SCOUTMASTER’S WIFE, outside temps in the eighties, plenty of sun for enhancing my suntan, and we now have a hairdresser on call twenty four hours a day in case the Count messes mine up, which he does. But now it can stay gorgeous, in stark contrast to Beth’s, which certainly needs something, probably a complete overhaul.
But enough about me. Among all the emails I’ve received since I started my off-again-on-again Advice to the Love Crazed blog entries, the one below from someone we’ll call Terry is the most interesting AND the most serious–not that I’m into serious, as you know–but oh, man, is this young woman Hooked On Unrequited Love or WHAT. Give this recent email a look-see:
I’m very much in love with a man but I’ve noticed a lot of things lately that don’t seem quite right to me and I thought I’d ask you about them, since you seem to know so much about men.”
(NOTE: Well, she’s right about that. I love them. I’ve made a lifelong study of them.)
“For one thing, he never, ever seems to hear anything I’m saying, unless it’s about him. Whenever anything happens to me or my family, it’s like he distances himself from it and in fact, he doesn’t even hear it no matter WHAT it is. It’s as though nobody but him exists, actually. EVERYTHING is about him, and only him.
“When he’s upset it’s because someone else did something to him. Nothing is ever his fault, according to him, even if it is. He never apologizes about anything, no matter how much he’s hurt my feelings or anyone else’s. Everyone else has to apologize. If I even try to get emotionally close at all, he shies away and I don’t hear from him for a while and in fact, when I do, he’s cold and downright nasty. I don’t understand that.
“I’m so frustrated all the time because nothing I ever say means anything to him. As I said before, he doesn’t even hear it. It’s as though I never opened my mouth. He’s very harsh to the outside world, everything is black and white to him, there’s never any in-between, he has no sympathy for anyone, whether it be just that they’re overweight, or have no money, or have run into what seems to me normal life problems. Everyone has to be perfect in his eyes, but his idea of perfection is almost impossible to attain.
“The problem is, I’m head over heels in love with him. I really am. I keep taking blame for things he causes by his own actions and lies, and I keep apologizing to him just to keep him happy. But nothing really makes him happy unless people all around him are telling him how handsome and wonderful and talented and smart he is. Still, I love him. I don’t see how I can live without him. He’s on my mind day and night. He’s terribly good-looking and I’m terribly physically attracted to him. I CAN’T keep away from him. What can I do to make him appreciate me more?”
He’s never going to appreciate you or any other woman for long. He sounds to me like a classic narcissist.
I could be wrong. You could drag him to a psychiatrist and have him tested, which he’d never stand still for. They seldom ever admit anything could be wrong with THEM. It’s always somebody else.
These people cause everyone around THEM to go to shrinks, sometimes for years, trying to find out why they’ve got such low levels of self-esteem, which is often caused by years of having had their spirits broken by a narcissistic parent. Even shrinks don’t like to deal with them. Ask one if you don’t believe me.
Most of us have some narcissistic traits, but the difference is, the normal person, when you ask them to please lighten up, please try to understand you and have some compassion for your side of things, they’ll respond by trying, at least.
Not this guy. The narcissist only gets worse. Much worse.
They LIKE to make you unhappy. They don’t want to lighten up and they seldom, if ever, do anything they don’t want to. If they do have to, and you were part of the reason, they’ll make your life unbearable because of it.
There’s a lot to be learned about this guy and I encourage you to learn as much as possible about this type of person, because in order to save yourself and your happiness, you need to put this person out of your life. No if’s, and’s or but’s about it, no matter how much you may feel you love him.
Google “narcissist” and start reading all the websites and see if you don’t find his description over and over again. You’ll soon see you can’t help him because he doesn’t want to be helped.
Why would he? He’s perfect, right?
He thinks he is.
There is no happiness in store for you with this type of person, ever. They’ll make sure you’re never happy for long.
Real love is a give and take thing, and this person never, ever gives anyone real love. He’ll take yours and everybody else’s, but he does not have love to give you, because his love is all for himself.
These people make the decision very early in life NOT to love, for whatever reason, and they stick to it. Whether this is caused by lack of love in infancy, or an overabundance of it by doting parents who cater to his every whim, nobody’s really sure.
But understand this now. He does not want to love you back. He will never love you back. He cannot love you back.
He may SAY he loves you at the beginning, but the minute he’s done with that game, he’ll toss you out of his life and never give it another thought. In fact, you can expect him to say very bad things about you to everyone else who knows you, once he’s done with you, because this is one of the traits of the narcissist. This guy will make SURE everyone knows the whole thing was your fault.
They use, then you’re gone and they feel nothing because they don’t see what they do. They’re entitled, you see, and you’re wrong if you object.
I’ve known two narcissists myself and they’ve done nothing but make people unhappy. Don’t ever expect anything resembling compassion or feeling from him because he doesn’t have it to give. You have to treat him like the infant he is, emotionally, and that get old fast, as you’ve discovered.
My advice would be to get him completely out of your life and move on. It won’t take as long as you think to get over him, because you’ll find the relief you’ll feel, once you’re out from under his thumb, will amaze you and make you wonder what you ever saw in him in the first place.
I promise you, this will happen. So get rid of him. Now. Don’t expect him to beg and plead for you to come back, either. He’ll never do it. He has too much pride. He’ll be viciously angry that you dared leave him and he’ll never, ever forgive you, because YOU did something to HIM.
Let him be. You can’t help him. Years of therapy, even if he did agree to have it, won’t help him. Again, ask a shrink if you don’t believe me. I asked one about this. He told me he hates trying to treat narcissistic personalities because they never hear anything but their own words and ideas.
Also, don’t expect him to get better as he ages, because he won’t. Narcissists get worse as they age, because the big thing they cling to is their looks and outward charm–when they want to be charming, which is usually during the seduction process.
But we all know looks deteriorate as we age. This is one thing the narcissist can’t stand, because I’m sure you’ve noticed he thinks right much of his good looks, and brags about how good he looks for his age, and that nobody believes he’s as old as he is. Strangely enough, this is usually true and it happens, according to psychiatrists, because he doesn’t have the same worries the rest of us do.
So put this guy behind you. You’re already more than aware something’s wrong, and you’re right. There is something wrong and there’s not one thing you can do about it except step back and watch the train wreck–unless you want to be in the wreck with him.
Good luck, Terry. You deserve better.
Back in a few days, folks. The Count and I are heading off to London to see a few shows and do some shopping at Harrods while Beth stays home and empties the dishwasher and feeds the cats and…well, those things are really too sordid for The Hotclue to dwell on, aren’t they. Thank God I’m the happy-go-lucky half. 😉
Toodles, and Loads of Love to Y’all,
March 29, 2006
OH, HONEY! HAVE YOU GOT TROUBLE NOW!
I got another (where do these people come from?) love-crazed email this morning. I’m calling this one Honey here, to protect the potentially guilty. I’ve copy/pasted what she said:
“Hotclue, please tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do. I’m seventeen years old. I’ve got a nice boyfriend, but his father is making passes at me. At least I think that’s what he’s doing, but he’s so sneaky about it that I’m not sure, so I thought I’d ask you what you think. He sits down on the sofa on the other side of me when my boyfriend is there with me and he presses his knee up against me. Sometimes he drapes his arm across my shoulder but he always makes it look like an accident. If we’re all having dinner together, he keeps looking at me and he keeps filling my plate and buttering my bread. The looks he gives me makes me feel really nervous, like, you know, it’s freaky. I mean, he hides it from everybody else but every chance he gets he gives me this really hot look. The trouble is, it excites me. It’s fun, kind of. I can’t help it. But I have the feeling maybe it’s wrong and I’m not sure what to do because I really do like my boyfriend. But here’s the bad part. I like his father too. Oh, and like, by the way, my boyfriend doesn’t know about this.”
Oh, Honey. OHHHHHHH, Honey! Don’t move a muscle, just listen to Hotclue.
Daddy-o is waaaaaay overstepping his boundaries, and yours, and his son’s. Trust me, he definitely is. And he’s doing it with one thing in mind. And you know what that one thing is. And it sounds to me as though you like it, you really, really like it.
So you have a choice to make, and you’d better make it fast, because this situation sounds like it’s getting a little too hot to handle and it’s not going to go away. Fires seldom do until someone hoses them down. You better whip out the garden hose fast.
You could fall for the old man’s passes and maybe cause a divorce, a split between you and your boyfriend, maybe a murder or two, what the hell. Because these are the kinds of situations that cause things like–oh, burning down houses, cutting brake lines, blowing up cars, a gun shot or two, maybe landing in your own soft, flat, young little belly–because my bet is, his wife knows exactly what he’s up to but just hasn’t said so yet. The key word here is “yet”. Memorize it.
You don’t want to be around when she decides to speak, burn, cut, blow up or shoot. Trust me, OH trust me, you don’t. There’s nothing more dangerous than a raging wife. Haitian revolutionaries with machetes and hand grenades are pussycats by comparison.
Or, you can always speak up loud and clear next time he does his thing, which will cost you your boyfriend, his father, a huge ugly scene, his wife will never allow you in the house again AND she’ll call your parents. Bummer! But there’s a bettter way.
You can do the smart thing and get completely out of the entire situation now, which means divesting yourself of this entire family, including your boyfriend.
Oh, you think you might love your boyfriend? Unh uh. Think again. You’ve been looking at another man with more than a little prurient interest. That means you’re not really in love with your boyfriend. He is not the love of your life. His father is definitely not the love of your life. So get that out of your head.
I think the number three choice is your best bet, and here’s why. The father is never going to stop what he’s doing. He’s just not. Men (and women) like that love living on the edge. If they do it once, they’ll do it again. If they don’t do it again, they’ll want to do it again. We choose our patterns pretty early in life, and fooling around on your wife, which he is doing, is a pattern he chose. Not to mention that he obviously doesn’t give a damn about his son’s feelings.
You’re seventeen. Right now is when you’re choosing your pattern. Are you going to fall into this situation where not only is he sneaking around on her, but you’re sneaking around on your boyfriend? Wait! You’re not fooling yourself into thinking maybe this feeling you have for his father might be fate, are you?
It’s not fate. He wants to cheat on his wife. He’ll want to cheat on you, on the off chance you wind up with him. That’s a given. He’s picked his pattern, and my bet is, there have been others before you and there will be others after you. It is a pattern, you see. Once men (or women) have picked that pattern, they don’t often change.
It may be hard. It may be uncomfortable. But you need to call your boyfriend and tell him you won’t be seeing him anymore because you’re thinking things over, you don’t want to be so serious, you need your space. That’s a good one. Everybody understands needing your own space. He may not like it, but he’ll at least understand the terminology.
Main thing is, you can’t do this halfway, not with a situation like this one. You can’t just decide to stick it out and think maybe his father will back off.
He’s not going to back off, not until he completes his pattern. It’s not you, realize that right now. It’s the pattern. You don’t even matter, not really. You’re just the means to the end he has in mind (which just happens to be yours right now).
You have to get out and stay out. Never go there again. Never call there again. Tell your boyfriend you met someone new, tell him whatever you want, but tell him now and be done with it and don’t look back.
Otherwise, one day very soon this creep’s wife will probably look you up and at the very least, beat the living hell out of you.
Hotclue. Has. Spoken.
March 1, 2006
Cherry Garcia, Unfiltered Cigarettes and Changing the Lyrics
I got an interesting fan email today from someone who just read my blog–we’ll call her Doll to protect her identity. The gist of her email was, “Hots, you’ve been around a lot. Did a man ever break your heart so bad you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t concentrate, didn’t even want to get out of bed? I’ve been going with this guy for years, we were planning on getting married. I thought everything was fine, and suddenly out of the blue he told me he never loved me, he always knew he didn’t, and he didn’t know why he ever told me he did. And he did all this just five days before Christmas!”
Well, Ho Ho Ho. M-e-r-r-y Christmas, Doll. This is, in case you never learned it in high school, a favorite ploy of True Jerks. I don’t know why, it just is. They love to nail you with a breakup at Christmastime.
Nice guys don’t do that. Nice guys show up on Christmas Eve with a diamond ring that looks more like a landing pad for a Boeing 747.
Doll, honey, come a little closer, ’cause I’m going to give you Hotclue’s Cure.
I know you’ve been sitting around listening to every sad song in the world, don’t deny it, I know you have. If not sad songs, it’s love songs, which make you cry even harder, right?
You’ve been sobbing into your tissues so much that your wastebasket’s been declared a flood zone. You hate him one minute, you want him back the next, right? Don’t tell me you don’t, I know you’ve done all that, and more. You think you can’t live without him and you’ll never be happy again. Right?
Right now, the sinus blockage you’ve got from all that crying is clouding your mind. Right now, the last thing you need is to hear me saying, “You would let any man who treated you like that be within ten miles of you ever AGAIN in this LIFETIME? Are you CRAZY?” At this stage of course you would, because of course you are.
But I’m here to take you in hand and save your sanity.
Okay. You’ve done the crying thing. You’ve looked up the Stages of Grief on the Internet and plan on spending at least a month on each stage. You’ve entered each stage on your calendar in the appropriate month, on the 1st, right? You’re all set now to spend at least four, five months grieving, still desperately wanting this cretin back, even though you know in your heart you definitely need to get over him, right?
Oh, you don’t know if you really want to get over him? You think maybe he didn’t mean it and maybe you can get him back?
Wrong. You don’t want him back. Trust me, you don’t. EVER, EVER, EVER. The hurt you just got is nothing compared to the one you’ll get if you marry him or even TRY to live with him. Look into my eyes. You. Do. Not. Want. This. Man.
Let me give you a rundown of Hotclue’s Cure:
First, run to the store and buy four pints of Cherry Garcia ice cream. Yes, it has to be Cherry Garcia. Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia is the USDA certified best comfort food in the world When Your Lover Has Gone. Next, beg, borrow or steal four unfiltered cigarettes from someone. Well, of course I know you don’t smoke! It’s bad for your health. It makes your breath and your hair stink. It causes cancer. I know all that.
Humor me this one time and get ’em anyhow, because this is a one-time shot. Four won’t kill you and they won’t make you an addict, trust me, because they’re too nasty. They’re supposed to be nasty. It’s all part of Hotclue’s Cure.
Next, remember the Broadway stage show, South Pacific, and one of the songs in it called “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair”? Remember it? Yes?
Okay, you’re all set.
Open the first pint of Cherry Garcia. Rich, delicious, beautiful taste, right? Right. Eat the whole thing. Right out of the box. It’s only official if you eat it right out of the box.
Open the second pint. Eat it all. Yep, right out of the box.
Getting a little queasy? Good girl. You’re right on target.
Open the third pint. Eat it. Every bite. Out of the box. Remember, I’m telling you this for your own good.
Pull out the four cigarettes. Stick all four in your mouth. Light them all. Sit there and smoke them all at one time. Oh, you can’t? Well, force yourself. I promise you, this is for a good cause.
Oh oh…wait a minute…is that you heading for the bathroom, slamming the door, throwing the lid up? Kneeling in front of the porcelain throne, crying and–what? Being really, really sick?
Doll, tell me right now. IS that man worth what you’ve just done to yourself?
You know he’s not. You KNOW he’s not. Think back to all the signs that you ignored because YOU (and only you, as it turns out) were in love. They were all there, weren’t they? Admit it, they were. You just didn’t see them. Well, yeah, you saw ’em, but you weren’t listening to that nagging little voice that said, “Oh, but wait a minute…this is not right…”
Hold on. We’re not finished quite yet. I hope you remember the tune of I’m Gonna Wash That Man right Out of My Hair, because now, in between heaves, I want you to change those lyrics to “I’m Gonna Puke That Jerk Right Out of My Gut”. Sing it like you mean it, honey, and remember that fourth pint of Cherry Garcia still sitting in your freezer. You’re not going to eat it right now, are you?
I see you shaking your head. Of course you aren’t, not right now. And you’re not going to call him, are you? No? Good. You’re getting there. And you’re not going to send him soul searing e-cards from Hallmark guaranteed to make him feel guilty, right? I hope not, because the only thing he’ll feel is irritation as he clicks Delete.
Tell me right now, would you want to take back a man who could actually GET you to do all this to yourself? Even if you thought he secretly wanted to come back–which you know he doesn’t because if he did, he’d be sitting in front of the porcelain throne himself, heaving his own guts out, wouldn’t he? And he’s not, is he?
You know he’s not. He’s out with his new girlfriend, feeding her the same tired old lies.
You do know, don’t you, there’s a good chance that one of these days he’ll run into a woman who does the same thing to him. Whatever you do, don’t console him if he comes crying to you. Just hang up on him and sing a few bars of the song that will be your mantra for some time to come, now that you’re just about over him, and you are. Open the windows wide so your neighbors can hear you singing THIS song, recorded by Patty Loveless, who really knows how to handle a man like that :
“Well, someone’s gonna do you like you done me, honey, and when she does you like you done it won’t be funny, you’re gonna need some sympathy, but don’t be callin’ me, just blame it on your lyin’ cheatin’ cold dead beatin’ mean mistreatin’ double-dealin two-timin’ lovin’ heart.”
By the way, don’t waste your time and energy hating him. Understand, he’s not hurting at all and your anger won’t touch him. The only one it can hurt is you.
Don’t let him do THAT to you on top of everything else.
Hey, glad to help, Doll! I know you’ll be fine. Let me know when you find a new man, but watch those little danger signals a little more closely next time, okay? That’s what life’s all about. Learning from our mistakes.
Hotclue. Has. Spoken.
Hugs and Ta Ta till next time!