The problem with The Rules, as with everything, is that it’s just not black and white, right or wrong. I wanted to end this blog with a sweeping judgment that either the Rules are absolute malarkey, or they’re pure genius. But they’re neither and both. In some ways, they have the right idea. Dating is hard enough without throwing out all the preconceptions about male and female roles that we were raised with. It’s nice to have a set of rules that can tell you, yes, there is still order in this world, all is not lost to chaos, the man should still pay, and you should still shave your legs and bat your eyelashes. Because let’s face it, a first date is awkward enough without trying to prove our intellect, sense of humor, independence AND make sure he thinks we’re hot. The Rules allows that sometimes the first few dates can just be a test of physical attraction and basic compatibility.

As women, we put so much pressure on ourselves to succeed in all aspects of our lives, now that we are no longer expected to stand around barefoot in the kitchen baking pies and sweeping the floors. We want to prove that we are equal to men and The Rules doesn’t deny that, but it instead acknowledges that equality does not mean sameness. We each have things to offer but they’re different, and in the very beginning of a relationship, on the first few dates, there is something very comforting to me about being taken care of, being paid for, walked home, pursued. And for men, I think they enjoy the masculinity in being on the other end of that. The entire relationship doesn’t need to fit into that mold, but in the beginning, it’s a comfort, in what is usually a very uncomfortable situation. And so for offering that comfort, I applaud The Rules. In the very early stages of dating, they are absolutely a great way to take some pressure off ourselves and just relax. They teach us to reject those who don’t really like us, and embrace those who want to take care of us. And that’s how a great relationship can begin.

However. When embarking on a new, long-term relationship, the Rules really are bullshit. The idea that every action should be for the goal of marriage after one year is ridiculous. Getting married after only knowing a person for a year is kind of insane, no? One of my very wise friends described the first year of a relationship as the observation year. You just watch the person, figure them out, get to know their likes and dislikes, and then spend the rest of the relationship actually truly living life together. According to The Rules, if he does not propose within one year, you need to break it off. I think the opposite, if a guy proposes to you after only one year of knowing you, rest assured that the relationship won’t work. And just look at Ellen Fein. She wrote the Rules, and yes, she snagged the ring, but she also got divorced. I’d rather take my time and get to know someone for many years, live with them, figure out if we’re really good together in the long term after all the excitement fades and we’re just two people with a whole bunch of flaws and some really good inside jokes. Marriage as an institution has no meaning to me, it’s a piece of paper. What’s important is being in a committed and loving long-term relationship. There are all kinds of rules about what to do in relationships, but most of them are about withholding, so that he becomes so desperate for your affections that he has no choice but to marry you. I don’t mind tricking a guy into going on a third date with me by putting on a slightly unrealistic aloofness, hiding my crazy, wearing a pushup bra, and squeezing into spanxx, but to trick a guy into marrying you by being completely unavailable seems more tenuous. Because once you get that ring on your finger, how can you ever be sure that he loves you for you, or for the person you were pretending to be?

So now for the grand finale. The goal of this blog was to document my dating life, and eventually find a boyfriend. And I have. I used the Rules on our first date, but after that, it seemed unnecessary. It’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in, but it’s also hard and treacherous. There have been times when I wanted to give up, and it’s in those moments where the Rules become most worthless and even detrimental. At a certain point you have to assess your own feelings towards the person you’re with, and decide if they’re worth fighting for. Because everyone makes mistakes, everyone will fuck up in a relationship, and it’s the ability to get past those mistakes and move forward together that makes a relationship worth sticking with. My boyfriend makes me incredibly happy, and that’s rare to find. When someone is able to make you feel that way, most mistakes become forgivable. The Rules, just like any book that tries to dictate an entire lifestyle (yes, I’m looking at you, Bible), lacks the nuance and forgiveness necessary to live a fulfilled life. It’s in the moments of most strife, that we really see how much we love the person we’re with, and The Rules turns a completely blind eye to that. They encourage women to end the relationship at the first sign of weakness or imperfection, but I’d argue that sticking through those moments is what makes the strongest relationships. If you can’t be flawed with the one you love, then you’ll never be able to be flawed in front of anyone. And we are nothing if not flawed.

And so, in this, my last post on this blog, I want to thank The Rules for everything they’ve taught me. They’ve helped me think about relationships in an entirely new light, and right or wrong, I believe they’ve changed me for the better.

First of all, Sam’s post was not unsolicited, I wanted to know what he thought the downfall of our relationship was, especially since, as he mentions, he has always pursued me relentlessly as a friend, while also maintaining that he is extremely attracted to me, so I have wondered why we didn’t make it as a couple. That being said, Sam and I do have a complicated relationship, born out of high school feelings of insecurity, loneliness, and some extremely fucked up friends we had in common. The way he knows me is different than the way I actually am today, but there’s something comforting about a person who always sees you as you once were, even if that means seeing you as an insecure high school girl. It’s a reminder of where and who I’ve been. I do feel I’ve changed, I don’t think I try TOO hard anymore, but I do think there is something inherently true about what he’s saying about me. It’s not necessarily that I try too hard to be cool, but I do certainly have a fear of intimacy that makes it hard for me to show vulnerability, which can make it seem like I’m just trying to be cool.

When I was younger, my mom would complain that I was impossible to fight with. We would have screaming matches and by the end she would break down and cry and I would walk away victorious. I could not be cracked. It makes me sound like an asshole, but it’s how I was. Now as an adult, there’s some element of that that remains true. I pride myself on my honesty, but at the same time I have a hard time showing emotion to people I care about. It’s as though my subconscious is telling me that the first person to show emotion is somehow the loser. Even when it’s appropriate, or necessary, to let people know that I like them, want to date them, want them to stick around, it takes all of my effort and energy to say it. But Sam, the difference about me now is that I can say it. I may try too hard to be cool in some situations, but I’m also able to acknowledge that, and at least discuss my fear of intimacy and vulnerability, which I think is a big step forward.

In a way, Sam’s post is comforting to me. If he had said something completely unexpected, something about myself that I had never recognized, I think I would be in big trouble. But what he says is true of our relationship then, and perhaps even our relationship now. But it’s not true of ME now. Not entirely at least. And that’s nice to know.

Hiya!  “Sam” here.

“Rebel” (…I’m going to call her “R”)tells me that I’m the only person she’s ever really dated, and so I have a unique perspective on our relationship.  I’ve put together a few thoughts about her and our relationship and maybe some inklings of lessons that can be drawn from it.  Most probably, it will amount to nothing more than my own personal experience, but who knows!

We dated, only for about 3 months, 8-9 years ago while R was still in high school.  As you may have read, I broke up with her for another girl.  This was crappy of me, but this post isn’t about me.  This post seeks to understand why I broke up with R, in the hopes that whatever my reason was might be related to the difficulty she’s been having in general.

I should note that our relationship has been rather explosive ever since the beginning – there’s always been a kind of push and pull mechanic, but one that’s really too dramatic and harmful.  Our pattern has been that I pull her in, and once she accepts me, I reject her.  It has continued, albeit with far less frequency, even into the past year.  We most recently went on a trip together in which I tried desperately to woo her, to the point where I was actually a jerk about it.  She, rightly, rejected me as she knows our pattern and she knew by then that it would lead to rejection.  I definitely sound like the bad guy right now, but believe me, it’s not a position I like being in.  I’ve just had an intoxicating attraction to her, but something always pushes me away at the end of the day.

R was the whole package; she’s sexy, smart, talented, driven, funny… well, maybe not funny.  And not not-funny because she’s incapable of comedy, but not-funny because most of her humor has an agenda outside of being funny (kind of like the reason that “partisan political comedy” can never be funny).  Actually, this speaks to the issue I want to  bring up which is, simply, confidence.  R exudes an air of confidence;  it is almost as though she is constantly telling you, verbally, “I am condfident, I am confident, I am confident.”  Even this blog, even the banner up top says the same thing to me.  What I think she does is say “I’m confident” to you, but then to avoid being called out on it, she claims that it was a joke.  This is usually very transparent after just a few meetings.

In short, the reason R has difficulty finding a mate is simple:  she’s trying too hard.  Need more evidence?  She has a blog about it.  She may keep this blog’s existence hidden from her mates, but the force behind it – insecurity – is all too visible.  I have known R since high school, and back then she was definitely in a sort of downward spiral situation – one that many people find themselves in in HS, but with her I think it was more pronounced, probably because of her massive potential.  She was insecure, so she would sort of act out out of it, and people would react badly, and then she’d become more insecure.  When I say “act out”, I don’t mean anything extreme;  just she would try too hard.  She’d talk too much and say things to try to sell everyone on her cool-ness.  I don’t think this is a pattern that started, or ended, with high school.  Out-growing problematic behavior patterns usually doesn’t happen as much as adults just get better at masking it.

I love R unconditionally, and she is quite like a family member to me.  I write all of this only out of an interest of helping, and I hope that’s clear.  For a long time I’ve been confused as to why I didn’t want to date someone who is, on paper, everything I want in a woman.  Hopefully I’ve shed some light on why that is.

Love, Sam

This post has definitely gotten me thinking. I’m going to reflect and write a response soon, so stay tuned.

I’ve been traveling a lot for work which is not good for the dating, so maybe I’ll start writing some more about some of my past disasters. They are infinite, so when I have nothing to write about, they’re a good option. Though what a depressing blog, just a list of my past failures. Ah well, they’re funny, you’ll enjoy. Expect that as soon as I get my ass in gear.

First of all, if I make out with you, ask me for my number. You don’t have to call. You don’t even have to really put it in your phone. But ask for it. Because honestly, I don’t want to go out with you again either, but in the interest of us both leaving and feeling good, I do expect you to feign interest.

Secondly, if all your friends are telling me that you have a girlfriend, please just accept defeat and walk away. And if we were already making out when I learn this information, do not try to convince me to go into the bathroom with you, that’s gross, and you’re gross.

And lastly. If I refuse to go home with you at the end of the night, don’t get mad and stomp away like a five year old getting a time out. You’re a stranger, and I’m a lady. Go home with some pride, son. Shake my hand and smile and say “it’s been lovely to meet you, Ms. Rebel, you are a pleasure.” And walk away with your head held high. My goodness.

Avi’s hair is slightly receding, and he has a perpetual five o’clock shadow, so you know, he’s a real man. Unfortunately, thanks to that lame old mandatory Israeli Army enlistment, he is my age, but has literally just graduated from college. Where he was in a frat. Which he loved.

That old adage “age ain’t nothing but a number” (RIP Aaliyah) is usually invoked to discuss dating younger folks, but sometimes, a man ones own age can be so much less mature than a lady that the phrase goes the other way: you may be old, but you’re still too young for me.

Avi had just moved to the city, and was in awe of the sights and sounds all around him. He was thrilled to be working at a coffee shop where he was meeting “the most interesting people.” He would ride the Staten Island Ferry just for fun. We walked by a construction site and he said “I love construction, it makes me feel like I can see inside the city.”

What does that even mean?! I hate construction, it’s loud, and dangerous, and the men either ogle me too much or not enough. Who is this guy? And then I realized, I once loved this city and dreamed of making it here. All newbies to the city think it’s the greatest thing ever. But that wears off after a month, when you see your resident homeless guy pissing on your favorite sitting stoop, or a polite looking business man shows you his penis on the subway. Avi just hadn’t hit that mark yet, and until he did, I knew we could never be together.

When he kissed me, there was so much optimism, he was so pleased, and I knew I couldn’t live up to it. In his mind we were making out in the big apple, city of lights and romance. In my mind I was praying that my doorman wouldn’t see that I was making out with another dude, after he had seen me with someone else last night.

Is it sick that I can’t be with a happy guy? Maybe, but at least I don’t have a thing for construction.

Not long ago I went on a date with a young gentleman named Tom. We went to a rock show (not sure what The Rules has to say about rock shows, but it’s not overtly prohibited, so you know, I’m sure it’s fine). After the show we went to grab a drink, and he told me “I’m the funniest guy I know.”

Yep, he said that, out loud, to a girl, on a date. Seriously, Tom? First and foremost, you’re not funny! At all! Like, say that to the dumb chick who thinks Two and a Half Men is the funniest show ever (sorry, I know one of my very closest friends also thinks that show is funny, but come on now…), but don’t say that to me. I’m no comedian, but I appreciate humor like a fine wine, and this dude was f’ing Franzia. (ba-dump-cha).

Anyway, I finally made it clear that I had to go, and he begged me to stay out for another drink. And then of course, the obligatory: “Fine, well if you’re not going to have another drink, come over.” I decline. I have someplace to be in the morning (a date with Len).

“No no, I’ll walk you to the subway in the morning, we’ll go early, at like 9, it’ll be fine.”

Nope, can’t do it, gotta run.

“Come on, we’ll just snuggle. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Tempting, but no, thanks anyway though.

“Fine.” And he turns and walks away.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is 1am and I am in Brooklyn and we are 2 blocks from the subway and he does not walk me there. But he would have, if I had only stayed the night.

The next day Tom texts me to say that he had a great time and when can we go out again. I ignore (no need to respond after only one date) and he texts again a few days later asking if I am blowing him off or if I missed his text. Poor dear. I politely tell him that I just don’t think it’s going to work out, but good luck.

“Wow, that was abrupt.” He responds.

Tom, if you’re reading this (and you’re not because, a) how would you know about this? AND b) your name’s not even really Tom), don’t ever beg for it. And walk a bitch to the subway.

Sidebar: You’ll notice, he did ask me out again, so I guess the Rules are working!