Authors: Jenny McCarthy
Stirring the Pot (7 page)
When Evan was ten, we were away on vacation and he suddenly announced that he wanted to break up with his girlfriend. I had known the relationship was doomed (I mean, everything she wore—right down to her shoelaces—was Hello Kitty), but I wanted to hear his reasoning anyway. “Out of sight, out of mind,” he explained. He had been apart from her all of five days. I had to give him an A for honesty.
Many men seem to want to have their cake and eat it, too. Or, more accurately, to have their Hello Kitty and eat someone else’s pussy, too. We girlfriends and wives know this in theory but we never think
our
guy has the cheating gene. That crap behavior is for other women’s dickhead men.
There are signs, of course. Longer and more excited stories about his day, filled with details designed to throw you off the scent. Or a burst of out-of-the-blue accusatory anger—you say something as simple as “Did you remember the orange juice?” and he screams back, “Juice? Is that all I am around here? Someone to buy juice? Get your own damn OJ!”
Too often, even when you have an inkling and home in on those signs, you won’t believe it until you have concrete proof of his infidelity. I don’t blame you—no one really wants to believe that her man is straying. Admitting it means you have to do something about it. From where you sit, it’s just going to take too much emotional energy to rock the boat by tossing him out or walking out yourself. And the thought of being alone again? Ugh! I know, denial is much more pleasant. For a while, anyway (see below).
It’s funny what can finally make each of us snap. It’s usually such a small, small thing. The kind of thing that leaves your friends scratching their heads: “
That’s
the thing that made the difference?” they say. But it’s meaningful to you for some reason, and whatever it is, it puts you on a new life course. You can’t take one more minute of this bullshit.
About ten years ago a friend of mine co-wrote a book called
He’s Just Not That Into You
. If you weren’t paying attention or didn’t yet know how to read back then, allow me to summarize for you: it told us (women) what they (men) really think about some relationships and why they do what they do (and don’t do). A couple of weeks after its publication, a whole nation of doors slammed at once as readers saw themselves on the pages and finally got the hell out of crap relationships. Another way to put it is that knowing when to hold ’em or when to fold ’em, knowing when to walk away and when to run (any Kenny Rogers fans out there? I know you’re humming!) is what separates the women from the girls, and a lot of girls became women that year.
Among the epiphanies:
He’s just not that into you if … he’s married to someone else.
He’s just not that into you if … he only calls you at 3:00 a.m. for sex.
He’s just not that into you if … he doesn’t want you to meet his friends.
Duh, right? But I’m willing to bet that almost everyone has at some point been this level of abso-fucking-lutely blind. The (hypothetical) wack logic goes something like this:
It wasn’t really cheating when he slept with that other girl because we hadn’t officially become girlfriend and boyfriend … even though we were kind of living together.
Well, I did make him sit through
Pretty Woman
when I had food poisoning last month, so he deserved a night out with the boys at a strip club in Reno.
My family really can be a pain in the ass, so it’s okay if he doesn’t go with me to my sister’s wedding and plays Xbox with his friends instead.
If I ever heard a friend say any of the above, I’d tell her to get her head out of her ass. When I was much younger, they had to do the same for me on occasion. Maybe you’d find a more diplomatic way to set her straight. If so, you’re a kinder, gentler friend than me and mine. But we get the job done faster!
Of course,
hearing
what my friend’s book or your inner voice or your friend or Kenny Rogers is saying is different from
listening
to what they have to say. You might pay lip service to the advice and vow to make a change. But it’s no easy or quick task to actually change. Trimming the fat, lightening your load, getting real, treating yourself well: these Hallmarky goals are not simple to achieve.
It’s a sometimes painful process, and it usually mimics the five stages of grief.
You start in
denial
—you’re in the trenches and you’ll do almost anything to justify sticking with it:
Your guy periodically comes home late and smelling like cheap perfume, but you’re willing to believe his story that he’s been trying to secretly learn to tango so he can surprise you next time on the dance floor. You continue to believe this explanation (and are touched by his thoughtfulness) even when he still can’t dance for shit.
You find burner phones in the glove box of his car, and when you press redial on one, you get the front desk at a cheap motel just off the highway near your house. You are more willing to believe he’s selling drugs (which you also don’t want to deal with) than that he might be stopping by for a quickie on his way home.
If you’ve acknowledged his shortcomings, you tell yourself he’s not
that
bad. If you’ve busted him in a lie, you believe him that it was just that once. Or you convince yourself that another woman is to blame for his cheating heart. Or you
just know
he’ll change because you are sure you can change him. See wack logic above. Translation: however shitty he might be, he’s someone, and someone is better than no one.
The denial stage is so twisted and protracted that you might even convince yourself that wanting to be with a turd rather than be alone shows a remarkable depth of self-understanding. You might even pat yourself on the back for making that “breakthrough.” If you listen carefully, however, you’ll also hear a tiny little voice telling you that you would be okay on your own, even if you’re afraid to try it. That’s your self-worth struggling to be heard, ladies. Stop turning the radio up to drown it out! Get your head out of your ass!
After the absurdity of your justification starts to dawn on you, humiliation might set in. And your embarrassment quickly tips you over into the second stage:
anger
. Now maybe you can say, “He’s a mother-fucking two-timing asshole, and I am going to hunt him down and chop his balls off.” Or you announce, “I am not going to waste another day on that worthless
piece of shit,” and you toss all his things out the window (if he ever left anything after a booty call) and change the locks on your apartment door for good measure. You rage at him, at yourself, at the world. Maybe you even start up with someone new to make him jealous. When that doesn’t work, you get madder (and now maybe you’ve got the added problem of a new relationship you’ll have to get out of).
Whether anger works on him or not—maybe he’ll come back with his tail between his legs, or maybe he’ll say, “Fine, see ya!”—you’re probably soon going to find yourself in the pathetic phase of
bargaining
, when you’re willing to compromise to keep his love. God help you, you start to backpedal: “Maybe if I can learn to need less than the little I needed before, I could make it work again.” Or “If he would just show me a sign, I’d make him a key for that new lock on my apartment door.”
Then even you can’t stand to listen to yourself grasp at straws, and it dawns on you that there is no going back.
Depression
strikes! “What an idiot I am for ever thinking this would work out. I’ve wasted three years of my life on that loser. I need to sleep for a month, but I’ll probably feel just as sucky when I wake up. This is hopeless.”
Unless you are now clinically depressed and need
meds to jump-start your climb back to a healthier emotional state (no shame in that), the clouds will eventually start to part and you will now finally, finally have come to some level of
acceptance
. What a relief it is when you finally have the lady balls to stand up for yourself and say clearly, “I’m not okay with the way he treated me or made me feel.” And mean it!
When you have reached the acceptance phase, you have likely also gained precious perspective. Maybe you can now say, “I am detaching with love (and a healthy amount of resentment that I’ll work through with a therapist for the next few years) and acknowledging that he-who-shall-remain-nameless and I were not meant for the long haul.” You see the bad relationship for what it was, see the part you played in keeping it alive (even if everyone else thought it was really only on life support), and want better for yourself the next time around. That’s not only reading the signs but learning to follow their directions as well. And you’ll be a better partner for that gained knowledge (see
this page
for my genius advice on being a better partner). You’ll attract a better caliber of human being the next time around. Maybe only a slightly better caliber, but every gained inch counts.
(I’m talking about baby steps toward better choices, not dick length, in case there was any confusion there!)
If you don’t recognize yourself in the wack logic above, good for you. But the central message of
He’s Just Not That Into You
can be applied to other areas of your life as well.
For example, if you’re not getting promoted at work year after year (and assuming you’re working your ass off), then your job is just not that into you. Dust off your résumé and start looking for an employer that appreciates you more.
If your roommate is always messy and shorts you on her half of the rent, then your roomie’s just not that into you. Make plans to move on and in with someone who doesn’t take your cleaning skills and bank account for granted.
Those old pants that always crawl inside your ass? Those pants are
in
you but just not that
into
you! That suit jacket with the shoulder pads, the one that makes you look like a linebacker? Not only is it not into you, but it’s completely not in. Toss those old clothes and find a new style!
1. He owns a skateboard.
2. He knows his top score at anything.
3. He thinks weed is a staple food.
4. He owns a cape.
5. He’s never washed his own sheets.
6. He air-dries when his towel is too dirty.
7. He calls you “dude.”
8. You’re older than his parents.
9. He can’t name any roles Hugh Jackman has played other than Wolverine.
10. He thinks “you’re” is spelled “ur.”
1. He tells you he’s not really into blow jobs.
2. If the phone rings, you both agree someone should get it.
3. The dirtiest thing you say to him in bed is “Did you take a shower today?”
4. Whenever you’re naked he giggles.
5. When’s he’s done he rolls over and says, “All righty, then!”
6. And one very obvious sign that you don’t have chemistry: you flinch every time he touches you.
1. He thinks you’re fabulous.
2. He thinks your shoes are fierce.
3. He thinks your face is
gorge
.
4. He knows who Liza Minnelli is and can sing at least two of her songs.
5. He does your makeup for every event.
6. When you plan your future together, he sketches your wedding dress.
7. He thinks you look great in magenta.
8. He knows what magenta is.
9. He wants to paint an accent wall in your apartment.
10. Every time you get in a fight, he cries.
1. You own night-vision goggles.
2. You find hope and hear an emphasis on the word “think” when he says “I don’t
think
I can see you anymore.”
3. When he tells you you’re the craziest person he’s ever dated, you think, “I’m special.”
4. You think “Don’t call me anymore” means just for today.
5. You read the horoscopes for both of you and take them literally.
6. You still talk to his mom.
7. You tattoo his name on your back for fun.
8. You tell his new girlfriend you have herpes.
After you’ve clawed your way through the five stages of grief that often accompany ditching an asshole (see
this page
), you may be gun-shy about dipping your toe in the dating/getting-naked pool again. Then again, you may have gotten involved with someone new as a crutch to help you ditch the asshole in the first place. And that’s often effective, I’ve got to admit.
But is it wise? Are you serving yourself well (not to mention this new guy) by not examining the pattern of your mistakes or really giving yourself time to heal before coupling up again? I’m just sayin’.
But let’s assume you’ve done a little soul-searching and you’re feeling ready. Maybe so ready (aka horny) that you want to cannonball into the deep end of the pool. Great! Being afraid of failure would be way worse. But may I make a few suggestions? Through trial (lots), error (too many to count), and a very tall stack of self-help books, I have boiled things down to
the five essential mantras that follow. These mantras are all ways of behaving lovingly toward another person, and if you live and date by them, you’re going to be one hell of a catch! They are also ways of behaving lovingly toward
yourself
.
Part of the fun of falling for someone new is that floaty, detached-from-the-real-world feeling, and you shouldn’t deny yourself that dreamy time. But you can be dreamy and conscious at the same time. I’m talking about being aware of your decisions and how they can affect people you love, including yourself. Be mindful with your words, both the hurtful ones and the loving ones (you can give “I love you” away too soon), your actions, and the consequences of both. Then ask yourself this question: is he doing the same?
No one wants to be with a cocky a-hole. At least not for long. (At first there’s a certain something about cocky bastards, isn’t there? Ya, I’ll give you that.) So try
not to be one. When you open your heart and let down your guard, allowing your new guy to see the parts of your mind (and body) you don’t share with the world, you give the relationship a chance to deepen. And again, ask yourself this question: is he reciprocating?