romance

Crushed – Part 2

If you missed part 1, I discussed how to cope with a lack of crushes.  And now, it’s soapbox time. 

I’ve been a Cleveland sports fan my whole life so I have a long pedigree of cheering for underdogs.  I believe it to be my civic duty to use my support or displeasure to restore balance to public opinion.   Whether something is over or under rated, I will be there fighting for its just deserts.  For more on this, let’s turn to Limp Bizkit.  In the late 90’s the Limp B-I-Z, K-I-T and their no-holds-barred attitude burst to the forefront of the music world and shat all over it.  Boys aged 13-23 were swept into a rap-rock frenzy and red baseball cap sales reached all time highs.   Their popularity was about the only thing as obnoxious as their music.  I knew they would not stand the test of time and I made it a point to be an outspoken opponent.

But when they finally limped their way into obscurity, I was actually a bit disappointed.  While they clearly didn’t deserve to be respected as musicians, they didn’t deserve to be forgotten either.  Their music was so awesomely bad that it deserves a special place in our cultural consciousness.  And so, I use this blog’s stage (as well as local Karaoke stages) to remind everyone of the hilarious red backwards baseball-cap-shaped smudge on American pop music.

Wow, what were we talking about?  Projecting fantasies on the cute girls around Asheville?  I know this was relevant…Oh yes, I’ll get there eventually…As the Defender of Balance in the Universe, I now fight for the besmirched reputation of Projections.  Projecting is a psychological process in which a person places their internal emotions, ideas, and beliefs onto the outside world.  These are usually things in our unconscious mind that are otherwise unexpressed.  Someone might not trust their partner to be faithful because they themselves struggle with the boundaries of monogamy.  Another might adamantly give advice to you about your life when it’s clear they’re actually talking about their own situation.  That’s projecting.  For more on the topic you can click here, here, or here.

In the world of Psychology “projection” is most often a bad word and is considered something that you should look to eliminate from your life.   When I was in school and listening to people talk about the subject, I often imagined a mustachioed Frenchman in a room trying to solve a psychological mystery.  He strokes his chin methodically saying, “Sounds like the work of the dastardly villain…” he turns and points accusingly, “… Projection” (pronounced ‘pro-jeck-see-on’ in a thick French accent).   Most sources I’ve found actually define projections as the displacement of specifically negative feelings, when positive images are just as easy to project—like an optimist projecting positive images through a rose colored lens onto the people around them.

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Projections do cause their share of problems.  They are powerful and often go unacknowledged, giving rise to cyclical behavior and relationship issues.  I have a pattern of judging my partner for being clingy, when really it’s misplaced frustration toward my own tendency to hold onto what’s comfortable in order to feel safe.  It’s sticky mess of passive aggressive co-dependence, and it’s still a pothole that I have to watch out for.  But projections are not in themselves negative. They can also teach us about our internal world and allow us to navigate it.  You cannot see your own face without something to project it onto and reflect it back to you.

Projections allow us to see and experience new parts of ourselves by bringing them to life in the outside world.  What a beautiful thing.  We can dance with our inner feminine, argue with our inner critic, idolize our inner hero, and do battle with our inner demons.

Not that living in a self important fantasy is the goal in life, but it’s a natural (mostly unavoidable) part of the human experience.  When we can identify our projections we not only learn about ourselves, we see each other and the world in ever increasing clarity.  And while some perfect and fully transcendent person might see everyone and everything exactly as they are in each moment, that just isn’t the reality we live in.  For the 99.9% of us who are still developing and growing, projections provide safety, support, and critical information about who we are and how we relate to the world.  Chastising projections and trying to avoid them completely is like deciding that hammers and blueprints aren’t important for building a home because they’re not seen in a completed house.

So, be humble and know we’re all just trying to figure ourselves out.  Take a second look when a dynamic feels familiar.  Ask what is yours.  And do so with curiosity and compassion.

This rabbit hole could go on for miles, and I’ll do my best to tie it back in.  Crushes can be a great example of positive projections.  My projections in high school of a perfect infallible feminine were highly problematic for me and the women I dated.  While at first living inside the hologram of flawlessness and being showered with love and affection felt nice, I would inevitably discover the dissonance.  The ensuing fallout was muddy and hurtful.

But what was that image I projected if not the girl I was looking at? Maybe it’s an amalgamation of my mother, my first babysitter, princess Leia, and my first grade teacher.  Maybe it’s a cultural archetype imprinted on my brain from too much TV.  I’m not sure exactly where it stems from, but I do know that the image is part of who I am and lives deep in my consciousness.  It feels primal, and it fills me with passion, hope, love, and strength.  I like to think it’s an attempt to get in touch with my own deep and divine feminine self.   I want to know her, I want to make love to her, and I want to bask in the light of her wisdom and grace.

And knowing this image is part of me allows me to stop trying to cast women to fill a pre-written role.  Instead, I can appreciate them for who they are.  No one will ever be that woman, but she’ll always be close by; walking down the street, playing in the park, or sitting twenty feet away while I eat a burrito.

-Him

Crushed – Part 1

One hard part about being jaded with love is the extreme lack of crushes in my life.  I no longer enjoy that engrossing fascination that stirs my organs into a bubbling stew every time a special girl crosses my mind.  I was never one of those kids that got an erection every time my pants made skin contact, but I was one to get a crush every time a girl made eye contact.  Growing up, I couldn’t walk to my next class without seeing three girls that peeked my fancy.  Crushes always made life fun and exciting, and without them I now struggle to find reasons to leave the house.

Frankly, I’m glad I’m not chasing the girls I once found exhilarating.  It turns out the ones I most obsessed over in my teens were all slightly unstable; with rocky pasts and crippling insecurities (if not genuine mental health issues).  I’ll meet girls and think, “I would have been SO into you ten years ago,” when now I can’t find a pole long enough to distance them with.  I’m grateful for the wisdom and discernment that comes with dating back-to-back bipolar girls in college, but I miss feeling that naive curiosity that came with the rose colored glasses of my youth.

There have been a handful of times in the last couple years that I almost had a crush.  Out to eat or at a party, a girl might catch my eye from across the room.  My primal urges overtake me: my chest inflates, my shoulders broaden, my nostrils flair, and my eyes dilate as if switching into HD.  I’m a powerful animal and I am ready to attract my mate.  Let the dance begin.  I make my way near her in hopes to catch a whiff of her hair, a key factoid about her life, or a better glimpse of her butt.  And each time I quickly realize that my prospective wife was nothing like I’d hoped: her voice is grating, she has a snobby attitude, she likes Nickelback in a non-ironic way…always something bursts my bubble.  I turn around—my chest deflated—and take a seat back at the table of defeat with my friends ‘Disillusionment’ and ‘Cynicism’.

I’ve come to a jaded sense of acceptance about my crush-less life.  I’ve actually developed a great coping strategy.  Nowadays, I keep the cute girls I see around town at a comfortable distance.  At least then I get to maintain a shell of a crush—a shell I fill with the sweet, sweet cake of delusion.  Cake I will never get close enough to eat.  Because If I did, I’d not only be without a cake to enjoy having, I’d feel like total shit from eating all that sugar.

So I’ll knowingly enjoy an occasional misplaced fantasy.  Basking in the glow of a lovely dream is a nice place to rest my weary head from time to time.

In part 2, I dive a little deeper into crushes, projections, and Limp Bizket.

Him

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