Confessions of a commitment-phobe

SLR: You're the reason why good guys turn bad.

Shopgirl: Uh, say wha, say what?

SLR: Girls like you make good guys turn bad.

Shopgirl: I hardly believe that. You exaggerate.

SLR: Think about it. Every guy has his breaking point. He can only take so much of "you're so sweet and thoughtful, but..." and then bam! Friend status. Girls like you always want the bad guy and always shaft the good guy. You don't even give the good guy the time of day. That's when good guys decide to screw it all and forget about being so nice.

Shopgirl: You're generalizing. That's only partially true. And even if it were, I have a perfectly legitimate reason for such sheisty behavior on my part. I'm allergic to commitment.

SLR: That's bull and you know it.

Shopgirl: Sincerely, honestly true. I may have gravitated towards "bad" boys in the past because they kept me from getting bored. Nowadays, I tend to avoid the "good" guys because I'm not ready for commitment or anything that might resemble one. Trust me, I know what a good guy looks like--I just can't get caught up in something I'm not ready for.

SLR: Uh, on your choice of men--you sure about that? Sometimes I question your filter.

Shopgirl: First of all, I'm offended by that. Second of all, yes. I did date an amazing guy for years, remember?

SLR: Then why the lack in selectivity?

Shopgirl: Dating a good guy with good intentions on both ends would mean the possibility of building the foundation for something more.

SLR: And tell me again why that's a bad thing?


It's been about nine months since my ex and I called off our six-year, on-and-off (mostly on, by far) relationship for good. I took a few months to rebound, went into a reclusive dormancy, then emerged from my cave hole, ready to embrace dating etiquette with a fresh perspective. Spring was upon me, flowers abloom and birds in harmonious song.

Nevertheless, sensing even a slight whiff of commitment sends me running in zigzags. And while I can't speak for all commitment-phobes out there, I can offer a bit of enlightenment on why the sweet scent of seriousness turns putrid:

1. Sometimes, you just want to have fun. "Fun," of course, is up for interpretation. This kind of fun is not easily had when attached, 'nuff said.

2. Life constraints make an already hectic life even more difficult. Life constraints could be any of the following--life-consuming work, life-consuming school, an anorexic bank account, or all of the above for a home run in life instability.

 3. Commitment demands more emotional output from an already waning puddle. This has got to be the number one reason why commitment-phobia prevails, even after meeting the "right" significant other at the "right" time (the concept of "right," of course, is relative). Shall we break it down, in lieu of its complexity? (As if you had a choice!)

3a. Emotional immaturity. Lacks in ability to introspect, empathize, and sympathize are all examples of emotional pathology. 

3b. Emotional insecurity. This results from an inability to realize self-worth and may or may not be linked to emotional immaturity. For whatever reason, a commitment-phobe may not feel deserving of a healthy relationship with a fully competent partner.

3c. Self-destructive tendencies. This is a direct result from having emotional insecurity. Let me elaborate: Commitment-phobes, like other human beings, do appreciate the care and company of a genuine partner. However, the disconnect lies in the emotional insecurity. As the saying goes, "If it's too good to be true, it probably is." Such is the mantra of the self-destructive commitment-phobe. Rather than having a good thing taken away, willingly push it away.

Commitment is a scary thing. In fact, it's terrifying. It demands change and compromise, often times in ways that we may not be equipped to handle. Though the right person can withdraw the fear out of commitment, commitment-phobes have been known to remain in stagnant relationships for the sake of companionship.

That said, if you're currently "attached" to a commitment-phobe, I can't speak for why he or she has decided to linger so long. That's a whole 'nother conversation.

Speaking the honest truth on a more serious post,
Shopgirl.

Gettin' ready to check you off!

Date: So, tell me about yourself.

Shopgirl: Um, that's kinda vague. Care to elaborate?

Date: Ok, tell me about your activities, your interests.

Shopgirl: Haha, are we filling in a questionnaire about me?

Date: Ok, how about your family? Where are you from? You're so exotic.

Shopgirl: I'm from Southern California.

Date: No, where are you from?

Shopgirl: Uh, Orange County?

Date: No, like, where are your ancestors from?

Ok, hold it right there. So maybe I can be a little difficult on first dates, but  after reading that thread, you can't blame me for being cynical.

Don't get me wrong. I get excited and nervous about first dates too. I pay careful attention to how I do my hair and make-up, how much skin I want to show (or cover up), if I want to wear the "cute" or the "sensual" perfume, and even how the height of my high heels might convey a sneak into my sly nature.

Expectations of myself for the night include playing the cute, coy role. I typically don't like to reveal too much about myself on the first date because I'm too busy observing the minute things he does and says so that I might get a better glimpse of his character. Expectations of my date? Very simple. I'd like him to be himself and mindful of personal space.

You might be wondering what's going on my my head as I closely people watch my date. Am I going through a checklist in my mind?

Has a job? Check. Lifetime goals? Check. Is he wearing Ed Hardy? Uh-oh, d-bag alert. Either that or poor fashion sense. I'm putting an exclamation point next to that one.

Yes and no. These thoughts aren't necessarily part of the checklist I govern by. But then again, I don't have much of a standing, firm checklist nowadays.

Not to say that I didn't have checklists before. They're things we all develop, as if to narrow our searches down to the perfect mate. Think Weird Science. You plug in your preferences and out pops the "perfect" man or woman.

These lists, whether or not you admit having them, are dynamic things. They change with age, experience, perhaps status change. Take for instance, my ever-changing picture of the ideal mate:

Elementary School Cutie:
1. Pushes me during recess.
2. Wears awesome LA Lights shoes.
3. Loves tag, handball, and teatherball.

High School Hottie:
1. Has a car.
2. Athleticism of some extent.
3. Knows how to get booze.
4. Good at jumping fences.

College Stud:
1. Smart.
2. Funny.
3. Athletic.
4. Has a real major.
5. Planning to graduate within 4-5 years.

Post-college Preferences:
1. College-educated.
2. Has a job, or better yet a career.
3. If criteria #1 or #2 are not met, must currently be in grad school.
4. Smart, funny, athletic.
5. Loves science.
6. Reads often.
7. Between 5'10" and 6'4" in height.
8. Wears properly-fitting clothing.
9. Wears cardigans.
10. Prefers Apple over Windows.

Current Preferences:
1. Can hold a conversation.
2. Eccentric and artistic.
3. Smart, funny, athleticism is a plus but not necessary.
4. Knows how to shut me up.
5. Likes the outdoors.

I think nowadays, what I tend to look for in an ideal mate are general characteristics rather than specific personality traits and mannerisms. It's easy to think that you know exactly what you want, feeling young, spry, and perfectly capable of achieving ambitions you'd set forth to accomplish.

Out of college, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted (hence, the exhaustive list). When I found men who had met those specific criteria, they were lacking in many more ways that I wasn't willing to compromise--like integrity, honesty, willingness to becoming emotionally capable.

Nowadays? I don't know. I do feel like it's absolutely necessary to find a man that I can respect. Does that mean that this man needs to have a particular degree or job? Not at all. Just don't let me step on you.

An open, more humble me,
Shopgirl.