I am a happy badger.
About a year and a half ago, I got a very strange e-mail, demanding I take the sender "off all the e-mail lists." I maintain not a few lists for a variety of reasons, but this person didn't show up on any of them. When I asked, I got a terse, "Is this the happy badger cafe in bowling green? Can't you just take me off your lists?"
I explained that no, I'm a private happy badger, not a dining establishment, and found (via a quick web search) the Happy Badger Cafe in Bowling Green, Ohio. I pulled an e-mail link off their website, and sent it back to the person, suggesting he try that instead.
Over the last year and a half, I've been getting a lot of their e-mail. Most of it has been spam, but some of it has been real people trying to get in touch with the cafe. Because I believe in small business, and because I believe in being nice, I reply to these e-mails by saying, "Hello. You've reached the wrong happy badger. I am an individual living in Austin, TX. Here is the e-mail I think is correct for the cafe," and cc'ing it to what I think is the cafe e-mail. They've included a couple of school field trips, several catering requests, and even someone wanting to rent the entire restaurant twice for political functions. Each time, the person would reply and thank me, but I never heard from the cafe. I eventually looked up their direct line and started telling the mistaken e-mailers, "You should probably call them at (number) because I don't know if they get their e-mail." I amused myself by thinking that if I was ever in Bowling Green, I might introduce myself and we could have a laugh over the e-mail mixup, because they really look like a place I would *love* to stop in and eat.
Finally, earlier this week I thought, "I wonder if they are even getting the messages I am forwarding?" So I decided to call them, and ask, since it was after the usual lunch rush. I asked the man who answered if I might speak to a manager, please. He asked my name and business, and the following conversation ensued.
Me: So this is odd, but I live in Austin and I'm getting your e-mail, and I have been for over a year now, and I just wanted to confirm that you're getting it when I forward it to you, because I've never heard back from y'all. Today I got one from Yelp talking about your advertising plan.
Him: Well, that's a coincidence, because someone from Yelp just contacted me trying to sell me advertising. Listen, I don't want any.
Me: I'm not from Yelp. I just got your e-mail from them. I'm getting your e-mail.
Him: What? (off the phone "there's someone I think from Yelp who says she's getting our email" answered by a female "what does she want us to do about it?") What do you want us to do about it?
Me: Well, I've been trying to reply to the ones that look important and give them your correct contact information, and cc'ing those replies to you so you have them, but I'm not sure I've been giving them the right e-mail address.
Him: It's (gmail address).
Me: No, no it's not.
Him: Yes, it is. What do you mean, no it's not?
Me: That's my e-mail address. The one I got from your website is happybadger@happybadger.com. (address) is my personal e-mail.
Him: No, that happybadger.com address hasn't been current for two years. Why are you giving it out? Are you a business? (I'm still not sure why it was relevant whether or not I am a business) How long do you think you've had that gmail address?
Me: No, I'm a private individual, and that gmail has been my e-mail address for more than eight years. Now I know why I'm getting your e-mail. I got the one I've been giving out from your website about a year ago.
Him: (off the phone: "She says her e-mail address is (address) and she got something off the website," answered by the female again, "But what does she want us to do about it?") Listen, I can't help you. You're just going to have to cancel your Yelp account if you're getting our messages.
Me: This isn't about Yelp. I'm getting your cafe's e-mails, not your Yelp messages. Listen, I'm just trying to help people get in touch with your business. I want to be helpful.
Him: (off the phone, "you know what? You just talk to her.")
Woman: It's not our fault. We can't help it if you're getting our Yelp messages. That's Yelp's problem. Just cancel your account with them. We don't want to talk about advertising, OK?
Me: No, it's not Yelp, it's e-mail.
Her: Well, that's just spam. Ignore it if it bothers you.
Me: It's not spam. That's what I've been saying. It's people wanting catering and to reserve the restaurant, and I was just worried that they weren't getting to you and you were losing out on the business. Did someone reserve your restaurant twice last fall for city council election events?
Her: (*suspicious pause*) Yeah, so?
Me: That's one of the e-mails I replied to, and he said he'd call you instead because he was on a deadline.
Her: Well, what do you expect me to do about it?
Me: (finally just frustrated and done) You know what, nothing. I just wanted to see if I could help you guys, and make sure you get people who want to contact you.
Her: Well, our e-mail address is right on the website, and if they can't find it, then that's bad research on their part, and it's their problem.
Me: Is the e-mail on the website (my address)?
Her: No, where did you even get that? Don't give that to people, it's not our e-mail. Our e-mail is (other address). Anyway, I can't waste any more time on this.
Me: You have a pleasant day, ma'am.
Her: *click*
Those? Those are NOT happy badgers. They are grumpy, angry, rude badgers who give badgerdom a bad name. My mother used to tell me, "Some people just will not let you be nice to them, no matter how much you'd like to. This is not something wrong with you."
(What did I expect them to do, you ask? Perhaps something involving the words "thank you" and a confirmation of the correct e-mail address for when it inevitably happens again, was really what I was hoping for. As to why I'm writing this? Because I considered putting it as a Yelp review, but since it has nothing to do with the actual food or service at their business, just a poor experience with people who may or may not have been owners/managers, I thought that my own space was a better place to vent)
At least now I have a correctly updated e-mail address to use the next time I forward their business information.
*sigh*
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
I Am Not A Feminist, and I Am Certainly Not Your Feminist
It's been a full ten years, at least, since I felt I had to set aside the term 'feminist'. This has caused me no end of arguments with feminist friends, and it's resulted in a tremendous number of people assuming I hate women, don't support their equality, or 'just do not understand feminism'.
Initially, I left the word because I kept having this conversation in which I'd try to explain my concerns with the simplistic approach of American feminism, and the other person would become progressively more aggressive towards me for resisting the label. I've been told that as a woman if I wasn't a feminist I was a traitor to my gender and a tool of the patriarchy, and had no self-respect. Ultimately, it almost always resolved in the same way, with another woman shouting into my face "Feminism is the radical notion that women are people! Why don't you think you're a person?"
And so, wearily, I would say, "OK, fine, then, I'm a feminist." And she would sit smugly back, and congratulate herself on enlightening me, and never once stop to consider that maybe, possibly, it's worth considering that the nuanced complexities of privilege and equality don't resolve that easily into a binary, gendered dynamic. Some time later, I'd start talking about an opinion, and the same friend would ask me, "How can you possibly think that, and still call yourself a feminist?"
Finally, I settled upon the word 'egalitarian' to describe myself. I know the word has a bad reputation, because it's been embraced by the "but men/whites/heterosexuals have it JUST AS BAD" crowd, but it really is the best description for me. What it means is this:
Everyone is not automatically and automagically equal. Everyone cannot be *made* to be equal. That way lies Harrison Bergeron. My vision of equality is equal opportunity. What we are entitled to is equal rights, equal protection under the law, equal pay for equal work, equal educational options, equal treatment by the system of institutional structures. I believe that the only limiting factors on a human being's potential should be luck and will, not any function of demographics (and that you cannot handwave 'I was born into a white middle-class family that sent me to good schools' as 'I was just lucky', sorry, thanks for playing, have a version of the home game). And I will work, on every front I can find, to promote and ensure that equality of opportunity and experience.
And people keep telling me, that yes, of course, that's what feminism is. It really means 'equality for everyone' and 'a rising tide lifts all boats' and 'if we eliminate patriarchy, everything else will follow because patriarchy hurts men too'.
But it isn't. Feminism, at least as it exists in my country, is deeply incongruous with equality. Many feminists supported, for example, Z Budapest's exclusion of transwomen at Pantheacon. I've found deeply-rooted ableism and body-shaming in self-proclamed safe feminist spaces. The very fact that a Twitter hashtag #solidarityisforwhitewomen even exists at its current level of popularity suggests deep divisions in feminism. The more I read and learn about the growing frustrations with white feminism, how willing we are to overlook the objectification of women of color right inside our own alleged movement for equality, how frequently we appropriate the struggles of women of color to give our own perspectives 'more emotional impact', the less I am comfortable sharing a label with feminism.
I had hoped, that after time had passed, I could be a feminist again. That the movement would progress, and grow, and fully embrace the nuanced and complicated implications of privilege. Yes, women are oppressed, I will never dispute that in the current culture. But we're not The Oppressed. Oppression is a hydra, a vicious, insidious, ugly beast woven into our social structure, and a vanishingly small number of people never experience it in any form. I cannot claim to 'own' oppression because of my gender, and I cannot pretend that my experience as a woman is a one-stop ticket to Getting What It Is Like for any other group.
So, with a heavy heart, I begin to accept that while I support feminist ideals, and I support the advancement of women and the protection of our rights and freedoms, it is fully possible that I will never, with a clear conscience, be able to embrace the label 'feminist' again.
Initially, I left the word because I kept having this conversation in which I'd try to explain my concerns with the simplistic approach of American feminism, and the other person would become progressively more aggressive towards me for resisting the label. I've been told that as a woman if I wasn't a feminist I was a traitor to my gender and a tool of the patriarchy, and had no self-respect. Ultimately, it almost always resolved in the same way, with another woman shouting into my face "Feminism is the radical notion that women are people! Why don't you think you're a person?"
And so, wearily, I would say, "OK, fine, then, I'm a feminist." And she would sit smugly back, and congratulate herself on enlightening me, and never once stop to consider that maybe, possibly, it's worth considering that the nuanced complexities of privilege and equality don't resolve that easily into a binary, gendered dynamic. Some time later, I'd start talking about an opinion, and the same friend would ask me, "How can you possibly think that, and still call yourself a feminist?"
Finally, I settled upon the word 'egalitarian' to describe myself. I know the word has a bad reputation, because it's been embraced by the "but men/whites/heterosexuals have it JUST AS BAD" crowd, but it really is the best description for me. What it means is this:
Everyone is not automatically and automagically equal. Everyone cannot be *made* to be equal. That way lies Harrison Bergeron. My vision of equality is equal opportunity. What we are entitled to is equal rights, equal protection under the law, equal pay for equal work, equal educational options, equal treatment by the system of institutional structures. I believe that the only limiting factors on a human being's potential should be luck and will, not any function of demographics (and that you cannot handwave 'I was born into a white middle-class family that sent me to good schools' as 'I was just lucky', sorry, thanks for playing, have a version of the home game). And I will work, on every front I can find, to promote and ensure that equality of opportunity and experience.
And people keep telling me, that yes, of course, that's what feminism is. It really means 'equality for everyone' and 'a rising tide lifts all boats' and 'if we eliminate patriarchy, everything else will follow because patriarchy hurts men too'.
But it isn't. Feminism, at least as it exists in my country, is deeply incongruous with equality. Many feminists supported, for example, Z Budapest's exclusion of transwomen at Pantheacon. I've found deeply-rooted ableism and body-shaming in self-proclamed safe feminist spaces. The very fact that a Twitter hashtag #solidarityisforwhitewomen even exists at its current level of popularity suggests deep divisions in feminism. The more I read and learn about the growing frustrations with white feminism, how willing we are to overlook the objectification of women of color right inside our own alleged movement for equality, how frequently we appropriate the struggles of women of color to give our own perspectives 'more emotional impact', the less I am comfortable sharing a label with feminism.
I had hoped, that after time had passed, I could be a feminist again. That the movement would progress, and grow, and fully embrace the nuanced and complicated implications of privilege. Yes, women are oppressed, I will never dispute that in the current culture. But we're not The Oppressed. Oppression is a hydra, a vicious, insidious, ugly beast woven into our social structure, and a vanishingly small number of people never experience it in any form. I cannot claim to 'own' oppression because of my gender, and I cannot pretend that my experience as a woman is a one-stop ticket to Getting What It Is Like for any other group.
So, with a heavy heart, I begin to accept that while I support feminist ideals, and I support the advancement of women and the protection of our rights and freedoms, it is fully possible that I will never, with a clear conscience, be able to embrace the label 'feminist' again.
Monday, December 30, 2013
On Gratitude
You see it a lot, the phrase 'an attitude of gratitude'. Over November, many people I know were doing 'thirty days of gratitude' across various social media platforms, taking some time each day to offer a general acknowledgment of something or someone for whom they felt thankful.
Here lately, I've also seen a lot of people wrapping up the end of the year with "I'm so glad for all I have!" posts, talking about wonderful communities and wonderful friends and the support they receive every day. They gush, in glowing terms, how lucky they are to have made such wonderful friends.
I think I'd like to ask them a couple questions.
You've acknowledged your general gratitude for the things and people in your life, but have you specifically thanked and acknowledged the people who have helped you? How often do you sit down, and instead of throwing a general thanks 'out there', seek out some person who's done something to support or empower or protect you, so that you can say "I see what you did, and I honor what you did, and I could not have achieved what I have if you had not?"
That's the thing, you see. In the US, we glorify the culture of the 'self-made man'. And in the culture of the self-made man, there is no room for specific gratitude, because it suggests that another person's work and love had some impact on who you are, that you are not wholly self-made. So long as you keep your thankfulness general, you don't have to admit that there was some part of that self-making that you simply did not and probably could not accomplish on your own.
It's OK to thank God (or the gods) if you're a 'self-made person' because you can subscribe to prosperity doctrine or the law of attraction, that says that if you have the right faith, belief, or mindset, that's all that's needed for divine or universal blessings to be given to you (see also magical thinking). You can couch your acknowledgment of what you've been given with vague gratitude so that the credit still really rests with you, for 'keeping positive' or 'being a good person'. It's karma, you see, that your previous good deeds have put a down payment on the world rewarding you with help when you need it. If this friend hadn't chosen to help you, someone would have, because you deserved it.
Same thing with being grateful for your community. Sometimes people say "I'm grateful that I have such good friends," and I hear "Congratulations to me for choosing friends who will help and support me regardless of whether I have helped and supported them!" Keeping gratitude general still lets you, on some level, claim credit for foresight or good judgment in ensuring that community would be a resource to you. (it is fine to be grateful that you have good friends, as long as you understand that you should probably also occasionally acknowledge why, precisely, they ARE such good friends)
When it comes to specifically looking at your life, and recognising that an individual made a deliberate choice he or she was not obligated to make, to benefit and support you, that can be very daunting for some. To admit to real and specific gratitude to another person's free choices is to swallow your pride and acknowledge that your identity as 'self-made' is a convenient fiction.
None of us is self-made. We must all own our decisions, and we are all in control of how we will respond to what happens to us, but we all owe gratitude to someone, somewhere. Maybe it's as small as 'stopped to help me change a tire on the way to a job interview' or 'stayed on chat with me all night when I was stressed about my sick cat' but it's there.
So I challenge you, when you practice your attitude of gratitude, to examine your life, and pinpoint those choices that others have made for you, out of no obligation other than love, empathy, or compassion. Then seek out those people (if you can find them) and personally thank them, not 'for all you did' but for 'that moment in time'.
Thank you for reading my blog, by the way. Every time I see clicks or comments, it inspires me to keep writing.
Here lately, I've also seen a lot of people wrapping up the end of the year with "I'm so glad for all I have!" posts, talking about wonderful communities and wonderful friends and the support they receive every day. They gush, in glowing terms, how lucky they are to have made such wonderful friends.
I think I'd like to ask them a couple questions.
You've acknowledged your general gratitude for the things and people in your life, but have you specifically thanked and acknowledged the people who have helped you? How often do you sit down, and instead of throwing a general thanks 'out there', seek out some person who's done something to support or empower or protect you, so that you can say "I see what you did, and I honor what you did, and I could not have achieved what I have if you had not?"
That's the thing, you see. In the US, we glorify the culture of the 'self-made man'. And in the culture of the self-made man, there is no room for specific gratitude, because it suggests that another person's work and love had some impact on who you are, that you are not wholly self-made. So long as you keep your thankfulness general, you don't have to admit that there was some part of that self-making that you simply did not and probably could not accomplish on your own.
It's OK to thank God (or the gods) if you're a 'self-made person' because you can subscribe to prosperity doctrine or the law of attraction, that says that if you have the right faith, belief, or mindset, that's all that's needed for divine or universal blessings to be given to you (see also magical thinking). You can couch your acknowledgment of what you've been given with vague gratitude so that the credit still really rests with you, for 'keeping positive' or 'being a good person'. It's karma, you see, that your previous good deeds have put a down payment on the world rewarding you with help when you need it. If this friend hadn't chosen to help you, someone would have, because you deserved it.
Same thing with being grateful for your community. Sometimes people say "I'm grateful that I have such good friends," and I hear "Congratulations to me for choosing friends who will help and support me regardless of whether I have helped and supported them!" Keeping gratitude general still lets you, on some level, claim credit for foresight or good judgment in ensuring that community would be a resource to you. (it is fine to be grateful that you have good friends, as long as you understand that you should probably also occasionally acknowledge why, precisely, they ARE such good friends)
When it comes to specifically looking at your life, and recognising that an individual made a deliberate choice he or she was not obligated to make, to benefit and support you, that can be very daunting for some. To admit to real and specific gratitude to another person's free choices is to swallow your pride and acknowledge that your identity as 'self-made' is a convenient fiction.
None of us is self-made. We must all own our decisions, and we are all in control of how we will respond to what happens to us, but we all owe gratitude to someone, somewhere. Maybe it's as small as 'stopped to help me change a tire on the way to a job interview' or 'stayed on chat with me all night when I was stressed about my sick cat' but it's there.
So I challenge you, when you practice your attitude of gratitude, to examine your life, and pinpoint those choices that others have made for you, out of no obligation other than love, empathy, or compassion. Then seek out those people (if you can find them) and personally thank them, not 'for all you did' but for 'that moment in time'.
Thank you for reading my blog, by the way. Every time I see clicks or comments, it inspires me to keep writing.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
On the Longest Night
Tonight is the Longest Night.
As they do every year, the days have become shorter and darker, the nights longer. And as it does every year, a tiny but visceral fear has taken root in my mind:
What if it never gets better?
What if the days just keep getting shorter and darker, until the light is gone forever?
What if this is the last winter, the forever winter, that will never ever go away?
That's a bit like what living with episodic depression is like. Every day a little darker, every day a little harder to get out of bed, and you keep telling yourself, because your rational scientific brain KNOWS IT, that this will have to get better, that the world is a circle and life will spin back to long days and lazy afternoons someday. But that Traitor Brain in the back of your head says, "What if? What if it never gets better? What if the happiness becomes more and more fleeting, less and less powerful, until the long darkness just...stays? What if this episode is the one that kills you?"
It's no coincidence that most of my serious depressive episodes happen in the winter. Though it's not quite SAD, there's something about watching the sun go that speaks to an inexorable creeping darkness.
Yule has special meaning for me, because it is a defiant night, when you stand in that darkness, and you watch the sun go down, and you throw faith out into the world and tell yourself that this, this is the darkest of it. And you put all your faith, everything you are, into the certainty of the coming sun. You burn so brightly into that darkness, because you know you're halfway there, and you throw a little extra into the fire because you know that somewhere out there is someone whose faith may not be strong enough to see them through to sunrise, but they can get there by the light of your burning.
This has been a good year. Traitor Brain has been driven back to her cave, and holds little power in my daily life. Last winter was much harder, much colder.
I know that the worst of winter lies before me, the bone-deep cold and the hard frozen earth and the creeping frost death that strikes even in the heart of Texas. But I am armed against that whispering chill, with a sword to batter the walls of ice and a shield before me that shines like mercy and wonder.
I believe in the sun, and I will it back with the joy of my heart.
Blessed be, my loves.
As they do every year, the days have become shorter and darker, the nights longer. And as it does every year, a tiny but visceral fear has taken root in my mind:
What if it never gets better?
What if the days just keep getting shorter and darker, until the light is gone forever?
What if this is the last winter, the forever winter, that will never ever go away?
That's a bit like what living with episodic depression is like. Every day a little darker, every day a little harder to get out of bed, and you keep telling yourself, because your rational scientific brain KNOWS IT, that this will have to get better, that the world is a circle and life will spin back to long days and lazy afternoons someday. But that Traitor Brain in the back of your head says, "What if? What if it never gets better? What if the happiness becomes more and more fleeting, less and less powerful, until the long darkness just...stays? What if this episode is the one that kills you?"
It's no coincidence that most of my serious depressive episodes happen in the winter. Though it's not quite SAD, there's something about watching the sun go that speaks to an inexorable creeping darkness.
Yule has special meaning for me, because it is a defiant night, when you stand in that darkness, and you watch the sun go down, and you throw faith out into the world and tell yourself that this, this is the darkest of it. And you put all your faith, everything you are, into the certainty of the coming sun. You burn so brightly into that darkness, because you know you're halfway there, and you throw a little extra into the fire because you know that somewhere out there is someone whose faith may not be strong enough to see them through to sunrise, but they can get there by the light of your burning.
This has been a good year. Traitor Brain has been driven back to her cave, and holds little power in my daily life. Last winter was much harder, much colder.
I know that the worst of winter lies before me, the bone-deep cold and the hard frozen earth and the creeping frost death that strikes even in the heart of Texas. But I am armed against that whispering chill, with a sword to batter the walls of ice and a shield before me that shines like mercy and wonder.
I believe in the sun, and I will it back with the joy of my heart.
Blessed be, my loves.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
An Extrovert's Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your Introverts
My 'extrovert' post is far and away the most-read thing I've ever written in my life. It's still turning up, over a year later, on websites and facebook and everywhere. It makes me really happy that so many extroverts have said, "Thank you, so much, because I thought I was alone, and now I don't feel alone."
In the comments for it, someone suggested, "Why don't you write a piece about how to manage healthy relationships with introverts, from an extrovert's point of view?" A lot of the 'how to deal with introverts' advice seems to come from the sorts of introverts whose position is "Go away unless I want you there, and don't disturb my precious, precious personal space except on my terms and don't disrupt me with your inanity." That is not helpful. I'm not discounting that some of the advice out there, particularly advice about how to approach and interact with introverts who are not already your friends, can be very useful, but "don't bother me unless I want you to and don't expect me to communicate when I want you to," isn't very helpful in a long-term relationship where both people have needs and expectations. So I sat down and thought about "How do I maintain my friendships with the people I love and respect, who also happen to be very introverted?"
Keep in mind, this is NOT written from the introvert's perspective and contradicts a number of those 'how to deal with an introvert' tips. Please understand that I've been navigating relationships with introverts (I am an extrovert nerd and/or geek, so I am seriously outnumbered in my community) for over 25 years, and if you want to disagree with me, please read the companion piece linked at the top of this article first. This is an extrovert, writing for fellow non-introverts, about what has consistently worked for me. So, here we go!
1. It is NOT about you. This is the big one. Your introvert friend didn't come to your party, or left it early. Unless there's some drama within the friendship that you're conveniently ignoring, this has nothing to do with you at all. Introverts find varying levels of human interaction wearing, and have to choose the energy they spend carefully. Let your friend know, "Hey, I missed you and I'm sorry you couldn't make it." No guilt, no recrimination, just "you were wanted, and you were missed." The important thing is that you should never take it personally unless your introverted friend is rude, flat-out stands you up, or deliberately makes you feel unwelcome and unwanted (more on that below).
2. Introverts don't 'all hate people' and it's kind of rude to make jokes about that. I've known a few introverts (and dated one) who were self-proclaimed misanthropes. The misanthropy is separate from being an introvert. A lot of introverts really like people and enjoy their company in reasonable doses. If someone is a misanthrope, call him a misanthrope, not an introvert, and call out people who tease or pester introverts about not liking people. Your introvert friends will appreciate that you understand the difference.
3. If an introvert comes to your party, that IS about you. If you're an extrovert or an ambivert (most people are neither extroverts nor introverts, but ambiverts), you look at a party invite from a casual friend, or a co-worker, and you think, "I'll check it out. Maybe it will be fun. I haven't been to a party in a while!" Introverts almost never go to large gatherings just because 'maybe it will be fun'. They go because they have to (professional or familial obligations) or because they genuinely want to. If your introverted friend is standing in your living room with fifteen people, drinking a beer and making small talk, it's because she LIKES YOU. She made a conscious decision to spend time and energy doing a thing you invited her to do. Think about that. Value that. Make sure during the evening to engage in conversation with her directly beyond general social chatting.
4. Introverts frequently leave social events early. You may look around and find that the introvert hasn't actually been in the bathroom for half an hour; he quietly got his coat and ducked out while you were chatting with another friend. Nothing happened, he's not mad, he wasn't avoiding you. Likely he just hit his critical limit of 'dealing with groups' and didn't want to have to get into a long explanation of why he was leaving abruptly, or make a long and chatty round of goodbyes. Most introverts, having had the "no, nothing's wrong, I just want to go home now, I promise," conversation several dozen times, will tend to avoid it if possible. If you make it clear that you understand the concept of that threshold of social interaction and respect "I have had enough and am going now," your introverted friends will stop just vanishing and quietly come to tell you, "Hey, I'm done. I'm headed out now. Thank you for inviting me." Say "OK. I'm glad you came!" and not "But you can't leave now!" (letting them know "we are cutting the birthday cake in three minutes if you'd like to stay for that" is OK, but they still might leave anyway).
5. Introverts want to be included. So you send your introvert friend invitations to every party, and invite her out to dinner frequently, and she only accepts one invitation in ten. Keep inviting, and accept refusals graciously. A lot of people respond to introverts' lack of social participation by assuming they don't care to socialize, or they say, "You never come out when I ask you! Don't you like me?" Consistently maintain a posture of "Hey, you are always welcome but not required," and you'll find that your introvert friends feel more comfortable with you.
6. Give personal invitations to small events. If you haven't seen your introverted friend in a while, and you'd like to get together, call him up and say, "Hey, honey, I miss talking to you! I'd love to have lunch, just you and me. Is there a time that's good for you?" Choose a restaurant that's quiet, so you can have a nice long deep conversation and really catch up. Most introverts prefer one-on-one interaction so they can really connect, because it's not as draining *and* gives them a chance to open up and interact. Don't just say, "Man, I haven't seen you in forever. We should hang out more," because introverts hear that a lot, but the follow-up invitations are not always forthcoming. Lead with the follow-up invitation.
7. You don't have to excuse clear rudeness as 'introversion'. I have a few introverted acquaintances who also have no social skills. They cut over others in conversation because 'you were just making dumb small talk and I wanted to talk about something interesting', they make people feel unwelcome in their presences, they make comments about 'not having time for stupid social shit' because they have important things to do, and in general they create a clear impression that they resent being out in public and consider people who enjoy social interaction shallow narcissists. You don't have to put up with that, and it's not 'being an introvert'. It's 'being rude'. Privately address rude behaviour with anyone, introvert or extrovert or ambivert, and explain that you would rather someone stayed home instead of making others feel dismissed. The gracious and socially skilled introverts among your friends will appreciate that you don't consider rudeness and abrasiveness hallmark traits of their personality type. Some of the offenders will try to haughtily explain to you that 'introverts are thinkers, unlike extroverts.' It is appropriate to tell those people "I don't need to be friends with someone who thinks I'm stupid or shallow."
8. As with all relationships, remember to respect others' boundaries and communicate your needs. If you're romantically involved with an introvert, this can require negotiation so that both your needs are met. Remember, your need for social interaction is equally important to the introvert's need for solitude. Never allow anyone to dictate that you have to forego getting your own needs met because it's not convenient for them. An extrovert or ambivert dating an introvert may need to establish a way for the introvert to say "I don't feel like going, but you should go and have a good time," and *mean it*. Ambiverts and extroverts need to hear that as it is, and not interpret it as "I hate your friends and the things you enjoy are stupid." Introverts need to trust their more socially-focused partners, and not assume that wanting to go out when your significant other would rather stay in is anything other than "I need to be around people right now, and I know you don't want to go so I'm going alone and I'll give everyone your love, then come back and tell you all about it."
9. If you really need an introvert to be somewhere where there will be a lot of people, give plenty of warning. If you want your very introverted friend to be a groomsman at your wedding, tell him months in advance, let him know there will be a lot of people there, and DO NOT plan eleven thousand social gatherings the week of the wedding that you expect him to attend. If you're throwing a big birthday party for your best friend, let his very introverted wife know in enough time that she can scale back social activities around it and manage her own needs. Also, when planning large gatherings to which you've invited introverted friends, it's helpful to have a smaller, quiet area (a back patio, a library or study with just a few comfy chairs) where people can step away and get a little quiet time if they're feeling overwhelmed. Don't make a big deal out of it; people will find it if they need it.
10. Remember that you're not responsible for maintaining your friends' emotional health, just respecting it. Ultimately, it's up to people to manage their own needs and boundaries, and it's perfectly reasonable to expect your friends to communicate those needs and boundaries. You're only responsible for basic courtesy and empathy, not for anticipating the possible feelings of everyone you interact with, assessing the exact correct level of human interaction, and bending your own needs to fit around theirs.
A lot of these are just 'good tips for dealing with people', but they're especially helpful if you find that you work or play in a mostly-introverted community and you're 'the social one'. It's also important to remember that extrovert/introvert is not a be-all-end-all defining personality trait, so what works in relationship with one person may crash badly with another. Most of all, be aware and respectful of the differing social paradigms that we all find most healthy for us, and do what you can to make sure everyone around you feels most at ease and comfortable in your friendship.
In the comments for it, someone suggested, "Why don't you write a piece about how to manage healthy relationships with introverts, from an extrovert's point of view?" A lot of the 'how to deal with introverts' advice seems to come from the sorts of introverts whose position is "Go away unless I want you there, and don't disturb my precious, precious personal space except on my terms and don't disrupt me with your inanity." That is not helpful. I'm not discounting that some of the advice out there, particularly advice about how to approach and interact with introverts who are not already your friends, can be very useful, but "don't bother me unless I want you to and don't expect me to communicate when I want you to," isn't very helpful in a long-term relationship where both people have needs and expectations. So I sat down and thought about "How do I maintain my friendships with the people I love and respect, who also happen to be very introverted?"
Keep in mind, this is NOT written from the introvert's perspective and contradicts a number of those 'how to deal with an introvert' tips. Please understand that I've been navigating relationships with introverts (I am an extrovert nerd and/or geek, so I am seriously outnumbered in my community) for over 25 years, and if you want to disagree with me, please read the companion piece linked at the top of this article first. This is an extrovert, writing for fellow non-introverts, about what has consistently worked for me. So, here we go!
1. It is NOT about you. This is the big one. Your introvert friend didn't come to your party, or left it early. Unless there's some drama within the friendship that you're conveniently ignoring, this has nothing to do with you at all. Introverts find varying levels of human interaction wearing, and have to choose the energy they spend carefully. Let your friend know, "Hey, I missed you and I'm sorry you couldn't make it." No guilt, no recrimination, just "you were wanted, and you were missed." The important thing is that you should never take it personally unless your introverted friend is rude, flat-out stands you up, or deliberately makes you feel unwelcome and unwanted (more on that below).
2. Introverts don't 'all hate people' and it's kind of rude to make jokes about that. I've known a few introverts (and dated one) who were self-proclaimed misanthropes. The misanthropy is separate from being an introvert. A lot of introverts really like people and enjoy their company in reasonable doses. If someone is a misanthrope, call him a misanthrope, not an introvert, and call out people who tease or pester introverts about not liking people. Your introvert friends will appreciate that you understand the difference.
3. If an introvert comes to your party, that IS about you. If you're an extrovert or an ambivert (most people are neither extroverts nor introverts, but ambiverts), you look at a party invite from a casual friend, or a co-worker, and you think, "I'll check it out. Maybe it will be fun. I haven't been to a party in a while!" Introverts almost never go to large gatherings just because 'maybe it will be fun'. They go because they have to (professional or familial obligations) or because they genuinely want to. If your introverted friend is standing in your living room with fifteen people, drinking a beer and making small talk, it's because she LIKES YOU. She made a conscious decision to spend time and energy doing a thing you invited her to do. Think about that. Value that. Make sure during the evening to engage in conversation with her directly beyond general social chatting.
4. Introverts frequently leave social events early. You may look around and find that the introvert hasn't actually been in the bathroom for half an hour; he quietly got his coat and ducked out while you were chatting with another friend. Nothing happened, he's not mad, he wasn't avoiding you. Likely he just hit his critical limit of 'dealing with groups' and didn't want to have to get into a long explanation of why he was leaving abruptly, or make a long and chatty round of goodbyes. Most introverts, having had the "no, nothing's wrong, I just want to go home now, I promise," conversation several dozen times, will tend to avoid it if possible. If you make it clear that you understand the concept of that threshold of social interaction and respect "I have had enough and am going now," your introverted friends will stop just vanishing and quietly come to tell you, "Hey, I'm done. I'm headed out now. Thank you for inviting me." Say "OK. I'm glad you came!" and not "But you can't leave now!" (letting them know "we are cutting the birthday cake in three minutes if you'd like to stay for that" is OK, but they still might leave anyway).
5. Introverts want to be included. So you send your introvert friend invitations to every party, and invite her out to dinner frequently, and she only accepts one invitation in ten. Keep inviting, and accept refusals graciously. A lot of people respond to introverts' lack of social participation by assuming they don't care to socialize, or they say, "You never come out when I ask you! Don't you like me?" Consistently maintain a posture of "Hey, you are always welcome but not required," and you'll find that your introvert friends feel more comfortable with you.
6. Give personal invitations to small events. If you haven't seen your introverted friend in a while, and you'd like to get together, call him up and say, "Hey, honey, I miss talking to you! I'd love to have lunch, just you and me. Is there a time that's good for you?" Choose a restaurant that's quiet, so you can have a nice long deep conversation and really catch up. Most introverts prefer one-on-one interaction so they can really connect, because it's not as draining *and* gives them a chance to open up and interact. Don't just say, "Man, I haven't seen you in forever. We should hang out more," because introverts hear that a lot, but the follow-up invitations are not always forthcoming. Lead with the follow-up invitation.
7. You don't have to excuse clear rudeness as 'introversion'. I have a few introverted acquaintances who also have no social skills. They cut over others in conversation because 'you were just making dumb small talk and I wanted to talk about something interesting', they make people feel unwelcome in their presences, they make comments about 'not having time for stupid social shit' because they have important things to do, and in general they create a clear impression that they resent being out in public and consider people who enjoy social interaction shallow narcissists. You don't have to put up with that, and it's not 'being an introvert'. It's 'being rude'. Privately address rude behaviour with anyone, introvert or extrovert or ambivert, and explain that you would rather someone stayed home instead of making others feel dismissed. The gracious and socially skilled introverts among your friends will appreciate that you don't consider rudeness and abrasiveness hallmark traits of their personality type. Some of the offenders will try to haughtily explain to you that 'introverts are thinkers, unlike extroverts.' It is appropriate to tell those people "I don't need to be friends with someone who thinks I'm stupid or shallow."
8. As with all relationships, remember to respect others' boundaries and communicate your needs. If you're romantically involved with an introvert, this can require negotiation so that both your needs are met. Remember, your need for social interaction is equally important to the introvert's need for solitude. Never allow anyone to dictate that you have to forego getting your own needs met because it's not convenient for them. An extrovert or ambivert dating an introvert may need to establish a way for the introvert to say "I don't feel like going, but you should go and have a good time," and *mean it*. Ambiverts and extroverts need to hear that as it is, and not interpret it as "I hate your friends and the things you enjoy are stupid." Introverts need to trust their more socially-focused partners, and not assume that wanting to go out when your significant other would rather stay in is anything other than "I need to be around people right now, and I know you don't want to go so I'm going alone and I'll give everyone your love, then come back and tell you all about it."
9. If you really need an introvert to be somewhere where there will be a lot of people, give plenty of warning. If you want your very introverted friend to be a groomsman at your wedding, tell him months in advance, let him know there will be a lot of people there, and DO NOT plan eleven thousand social gatherings the week of the wedding that you expect him to attend. If you're throwing a big birthday party for your best friend, let his very introverted wife know in enough time that she can scale back social activities around it and manage her own needs. Also, when planning large gatherings to which you've invited introverted friends, it's helpful to have a smaller, quiet area (a back patio, a library or study with just a few comfy chairs) where people can step away and get a little quiet time if they're feeling overwhelmed. Don't make a big deal out of it; people will find it if they need it.
10. Remember that you're not responsible for maintaining your friends' emotional health, just respecting it. Ultimately, it's up to people to manage their own needs and boundaries, and it's perfectly reasonable to expect your friends to communicate those needs and boundaries. You're only responsible for basic courtesy and empathy, not for anticipating the possible feelings of everyone you interact with, assessing the exact correct level of human interaction, and bending your own needs to fit around theirs.
A lot of these are just 'good tips for dealing with people', but they're especially helpful if you find that you work or play in a mostly-introverted community and you're 'the social one'. It's also important to remember that extrovert/introvert is not a be-all-end-all defining personality trait, so what works in relationship with one person may crash badly with another. Most of all, be aware and respectful of the differing social paradigms that we all find most healthy for us, and do what you can to make sure everyone around you feels most at ease and comfortable in your friendship.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Winter Driving Tips for the Uninitiated
As we head into our first winter storm weekend here in the lovely People's Republic of Austin, I hear many of my native Texan friends talking about how they have no idea how to drive in ice or snow. People who cannot drive in ice but insist on doing it are a danger to everyone else on the road. Therefore, your Friendly Midwestern Badger would like to give you some driving tips. Here are the rules for driving in ice and snow:
1. Don't. Before you leave, ask yourself, "How much do I REALLY need to be there?" Ask yourself if what's at stake is worth a couple grand of damage to your car or a hit on your insurance, because even if you're being really careful, someone can still hit YOU, and even if you're not hurt, accidents are expensive.
2. Plan ahead. Consider your route. How many bridges and overpasses does it contain? How many of those long curving flyovers Texans love so much? How many times will you come over a hill to find a sharp curve or a stop light at the bottom? These are all accidents waiting to happen. Once you have considered your optimal route, revisit question 1 before proceeding. If you still must proceed, double your expected trip time.
3. Go slow. Like really slow. Like ten or fifteen miles below the speed limit slow. Yes, your buddy who grew up in Wisconsin will laugh at you, but he learned to drive 60 in a blizzard at age 18 in a car made entirely out of cheese; you did not. Allow an extra carlength above and beyond your usual caution between you and the car in front of you.
4. You have no brakes. Do not use them, do not touch them. They are a trap. Control your car as much as humanly possible using changes in direction and acceleration; if you slam on the brakes, the terrorists win. Brakes will just add fuel to the fire of a skid.
5. Steer into the skid. Everyone says this, but if you've never done it, it's a really difficult thing to explain to you. Basically, when you feel your car start to slip, you'll have this impulse to fight it. Don't fight it. Zen that bitch out, embrace the skid, and pull your car *through* it instead of *against* it. If you have sufficient room, you'll be fine. Just pull over for a few minutes to regain your composure, because that first-ever skid is very alarming. To practice, Midwestern parents take their children for a day known as Shopping Mall Donut Day. On the first snowy day, large parking lots (like those at shopping malls before they open) are often full of helpful parents and friends teaching new drivers what the hell 'steer into the skid' means.
6. Aim for the ditch. If all these other rules fail you, and you find yourself in an out-of-control car, your only option is to *aim* it. You can't steer it, you can't stop it, you can't regain control, but you can *point* it at something. Point it at the ditch, point it at the grassy median, point it at the bushes. Having to wait two hours for a tow truck to pull your happy ass out of a clump of rosemary in your neighbor's front yard is vastly preferable to having to tell him you slammed into the car parked next to his driveway.
And above all, remember your manners and be aware, because not everyone has a Friendly Midwestern Badger. Remember that someone spinning through an intersection probably didn't have time to use his turn signal (and which way would he signal, anyway?). If you bump someone or someone bumps you, try to work it out without being a jerk about it.
Know what the inclement weather reporting rules are; in some states, during weather events you can report an accident for up to 24 hours afterwards instead of calling the police, if everyone involved agrees and no one is injured and the damage is minimal. Take advantage of that, because waiting an hour for an irritated cop to get OUT of a warm car in 30-degree weather to sign off on your scuffed bumper is a near-guarantee that you'll be ticketed for whatever the officer can find, while filing a walk-in report (if that's legal) usually means that *if* you're ticketed, it's purely for the 'failure to maintain safe speed' or 'failure to maintain control of your vehicle'. Just don't forget to report it, because if the other driver reports it and you don't, there can be trouble.
Be safe!
(seriously, if at all possible stay home and drink some damn cocoa instead. Light a fire in the fireplace you never get to use. This is Texas; it'll be 65 degrees in a day and a half)
1. Don't. Before you leave, ask yourself, "How much do I REALLY need to be there?" Ask yourself if what's at stake is worth a couple grand of damage to your car or a hit on your insurance, because even if you're being really careful, someone can still hit YOU, and even if you're not hurt, accidents are expensive.
2. Plan ahead. Consider your route. How many bridges and overpasses does it contain? How many of those long curving flyovers Texans love so much? How many times will you come over a hill to find a sharp curve or a stop light at the bottom? These are all accidents waiting to happen. Once you have considered your optimal route, revisit question 1 before proceeding. If you still must proceed, double your expected trip time.
3. Go slow. Like really slow. Like ten or fifteen miles below the speed limit slow. Yes, your buddy who grew up in Wisconsin will laugh at you, but he learned to drive 60 in a blizzard at age 18 in a car made entirely out of cheese; you did not. Allow an extra carlength above and beyond your usual caution between you and the car in front of you.
4. You have no brakes. Do not use them, do not touch them. They are a trap. Control your car as much as humanly possible using changes in direction and acceleration; if you slam on the brakes, the terrorists win. Brakes will just add fuel to the fire of a skid.
5. Steer into the skid. Everyone says this, but if you've never done it, it's a really difficult thing to explain to you. Basically, when you feel your car start to slip, you'll have this impulse to fight it. Don't fight it. Zen that bitch out, embrace the skid, and pull your car *through* it instead of *against* it. If you have sufficient room, you'll be fine. Just pull over for a few minutes to regain your composure, because that first-ever skid is very alarming. To practice, Midwestern parents take their children for a day known as Shopping Mall Donut Day. On the first snowy day, large parking lots (like those at shopping malls before they open) are often full of helpful parents and friends teaching new drivers what the hell 'steer into the skid' means.
6. Aim for the ditch. If all these other rules fail you, and you find yourself in an out-of-control car, your only option is to *aim* it. You can't steer it, you can't stop it, you can't regain control, but you can *point* it at something. Point it at the ditch, point it at the grassy median, point it at the bushes. Having to wait two hours for a tow truck to pull your happy ass out of a clump of rosemary in your neighbor's front yard is vastly preferable to having to tell him you slammed into the car parked next to his driveway.
And above all, remember your manners and be aware, because not everyone has a Friendly Midwestern Badger. Remember that someone spinning through an intersection probably didn't have time to use his turn signal (and which way would he signal, anyway?). If you bump someone or someone bumps you, try to work it out without being a jerk about it.
Know what the inclement weather reporting rules are; in some states, during weather events you can report an accident for up to 24 hours afterwards instead of calling the police, if everyone involved agrees and no one is injured and the damage is minimal. Take advantage of that, because waiting an hour for an irritated cop to get OUT of a warm car in 30-degree weather to sign off on your scuffed bumper is a near-guarantee that you'll be ticketed for whatever the officer can find, while filing a walk-in report (if that's legal) usually means that *if* you're ticketed, it's purely for the 'failure to maintain safe speed' or 'failure to maintain control of your vehicle'. Just don't forget to report it, because if the other driver reports it and you don't, there can be trouble.
Be safe!
(seriously, if at all possible stay home and drink some damn cocoa instead. Light a fire in the fireplace you never get to use. This is Texas; it'll be 65 degrees in a day and a half)
Friday, November 15, 2013
Solutions, Tools, Sympathy, and Experience
Imagine for a moment that you are a mechanic, with an old, lovingly-maintained but still quirky car. Periodically, some part on this car fails on you, and replacement parts are harder to get, but to you it's still worth it. One day, this car won't start.
You investigate, and because you're pretty familiar with this car you quickly determine that the problem is a bad part in your ignition system. You call around with no luck, but finally find one at a junkyard in another state; they tell you they're pretty sure they can have it to you early next week. You're a little bummed out about this, because you'd planned a road trip for the weekend to see a friend and show him your car, but there's really no help for it.
One of your buddies, who is not a mechanic, drops by, and you invite him in for a beer because you've had a frustrating day and you could use some company. You're telling him about having to reschedule your trip, and he interrupts you.
Him: Why don't you just rent a car and go anyway? I'll even lend you my car.
You: That's really nice of you to offer. But I wanted to show my other friend my car. He's thinking of buying one, and wanted to get a feel for how working on it would be if he did.
Him: Well, can't he come here then?
You: No, that's not an option for him. Next weekend will work. I'm just bummed because we were gonna get awesome barbecue.
Him: Are you sure the battery's not dead? Did you try jump-starting it?
You: Yeah, it's just a part in the ignition. I've got another one coming, it's just inconveniently scheduled and frustrating.
Him: Did you put gas in it? Maybe it's out of gas.
You: Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I learned to read a gas gauge at a pretty early age.
Him: Well, you don't have to get defensive. Hey, it is blue. I read somewhere that blue cars break down more often. I've got some time this afternoon. Let's paint it green. I'll help you!
You: ...
Him: Oh! Maybe it's out of oil. You have to put oil in cars, you know, between oil changes. I used to have this old Chevy, burned a quart of oil a week...let's go put some oil in your car and see if that fixes it.
You: No, it's fine on oil, and by the way, if you've got a car losing a quart of oil a week, that's really bad...how long did you drive it like that? Your current car isn't leaking like that, is it?
Him: Well, it was running fine. Anyway, why don't you just go to the part store and get the part? I'm sure they've got whatever you need at the AutoZone. I got headlight lamps there last week!
You: This is a forty-year-old car. It hasn't been made since the mid-70s. There wasn't one at the local junkyard, but I found a guy who specializes in this model and he's getting me the part.
Him: Well, but let's just go to the AutoZone and check.
You: No, the AutoZone won't have it...who are you calling?
Him: The AutoZone. I'll just check for you, because you never know. Hello, AutoZone, I need a...what's the part called?
You: (specify part, plus make and model and year of the car)
Him: (gives info) You don't? Since when? Well, there's no need to be RUDE! (*hangs up*) The clerk laughed at me.
You: No real surprise there.
Him: Why don't you just let me take a look at it? I might be able to rewire it for you.
You: You know I do this for a living, right? I know what I'm doing, and it's just a part I'll get replaced, OK?
Him: Well, I'm just trying to help. I do have a knack for mechanical things.
You: Last year you set your workshop on fire 'fixing the toaster'. Can't you just sit here and enjoy a beer and hang out with me?
Him: That's your problem. You always want to TALK about your problems, you never want to actually hear how to FIX them.
This conversation is how I feel when the men in my life talk about how "women just want sympathy instead of solutions because they're not invested in fixing their problems. Men are solution-driven, so we have to just learn to listen tolerantly and not try to give any real help."
Generally, the 'problems' I am talking about are well beyond the three-minute understanding of anyone who's not me, and the last thing I need are simplistic, uninformed and unhelpful solutions from someone who doesn't have any idea of the full scope of what's going on, who then gets angry at me for the fact that his suggestions don't solve my problem, and accuses me of either 'not telling the whole story first' or 'just throwing up roadblocks' when I try to explain the complexities. I don't 'just want sympathy' because I don't want solutions. I 'just want sympathy' because you probably don't have the skills, experience, and tools to solve the problem right now, or because your goals and needs and expectations are different than mine and what would work for you in the same situation won't get me where I want to be. Or because I've already set the solution in motion, but some part of that solution frustrates, upsets, or irritates me and I want to vent to a friend I trust to offer empathy.
If the solutions are that 'glaringly obvious' do you really believe I can't see them myself? Or is it a more likely explanation that the glaringly obvious solution has a hidden cost, anything from incurring a social debt I don't want, to a hit to self-esteem I can't afford right now, to abandoning a larger goal that doesn't appear connected from your perspective, but is?
I'm not saying, guys, that I don't want your help or your perspectives. But unless I've started the conversation with "I could use some advice..." or ended it with "...so what do you think I should do?" then accusing me of 'not wanting to fix' a problem I'm having just because what's readily apparent and obvious to you isn't a reasonable solution to me is pretty insulting. And writing off the entire female gender as 'not really interested in SOLVING problems as much as talking about them' is a pretty good way to keep me from trusting you enough to talk to you about problems you can help solve.
You investigate, and because you're pretty familiar with this car you quickly determine that the problem is a bad part in your ignition system. You call around with no luck, but finally find one at a junkyard in another state; they tell you they're pretty sure they can have it to you early next week. You're a little bummed out about this, because you'd planned a road trip for the weekend to see a friend and show him your car, but there's really no help for it.
One of your buddies, who is not a mechanic, drops by, and you invite him in for a beer because you've had a frustrating day and you could use some company. You're telling him about having to reschedule your trip, and he interrupts you.
Him: Why don't you just rent a car and go anyway? I'll even lend you my car.
You: That's really nice of you to offer. But I wanted to show my other friend my car. He's thinking of buying one, and wanted to get a feel for how working on it would be if he did.
Him: Well, can't he come here then?
You: No, that's not an option for him. Next weekend will work. I'm just bummed because we were gonna get awesome barbecue.
Him: Are you sure the battery's not dead? Did you try jump-starting it?
You: Yeah, it's just a part in the ignition. I've got another one coming, it's just inconveniently scheduled and frustrating.
Him: Did you put gas in it? Maybe it's out of gas.
You: Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I learned to read a gas gauge at a pretty early age.
Him: Well, you don't have to get defensive. Hey, it is blue. I read somewhere that blue cars break down more often. I've got some time this afternoon. Let's paint it green. I'll help you!
You: ...
Him: Oh! Maybe it's out of oil. You have to put oil in cars, you know, between oil changes. I used to have this old Chevy, burned a quart of oil a week...let's go put some oil in your car and see if that fixes it.
You: No, it's fine on oil, and by the way, if you've got a car losing a quart of oil a week, that's really bad...how long did you drive it like that? Your current car isn't leaking like that, is it?
Him: Well, it was running fine. Anyway, why don't you just go to the part store and get the part? I'm sure they've got whatever you need at the AutoZone. I got headlight lamps there last week!
You: This is a forty-year-old car. It hasn't been made since the mid-70s. There wasn't one at the local junkyard, but I found a guy who specializes in this model and he's getting me the part.
Him: Well, but let's just go to the AutoZone and check.
You: No, the AutoZone won't have it...who are you calling?
Him: The AutoZone. I'll just check for you, because you never know. Hello, AutoZone, I need a...what's the part called?
You: (specify part, plus make and model and year of the car)
Him: (gives info) You don't? Since when? Well, there's no need to be RUDE! (*hangs up*) The clerk laughed at me.
You: No real surprise there.
Him: Why don't you just let me take a look at it? I might be able to rewire it for you.
You: You know I do this for a living, right? I know what I'm doing, and it's just a part I'll get replaced, OK?
Him: Well, I'm just trying to help. I do have a knack for mechanical things.
You: Last year you set your workshop on fire 'fixing the toaster'. Can't you just sit here and enjoy a beer and hang out with me?
Him: That's your problem. You always want to TALK about your problems, you never want to actually hear how to FIX them.
This conversation is how I feel when the men in my life talk about how "women just want sympathy instead of solutions because they're not invested in fixing their problems. Men are solution-driven, so we have to just learn to listen tolerantly and not try to give any real help."
Generally, the 'problems' I am talking about are well beyond the three-minute understanding of anyone who's not me, and the last thing I need are simplistic, uninformed and unhelpful solutions from someone who doesn't have any idea of the full scope of what's going on, who then gets angry at me for the fact that his suggestions don't solve my problem, and accuses me of either 'not telling the whole story first' or 'just throwing up roadblocks' when I try to explain the complexities. I don't 'just want sympathy' because I don't want solutions. I 'just want sympathy' because you probably don't have the skills, experience, and tools to solve the problem right now, or because your goals and needs and expectations are different than mine and what would work for you in the same situation won't get me where I want to be. Or because I've already set the solution in motion, but some part of that solution frustrates, upsets, or irritates me and I want to vent to a friend I trust to offer empathy.
If the solutions are that 'glaringly obvious' do you really believe I can't see them myself? Or is it a more likely explanation that the glaringly obvious solution has a hidden cost, anything from incurring a social debt I don't want, to a hit to self-esteem I can't afford right now, to abandoning a larger goal that doesn't appear connected from your perspective, but is?
I'm not saying, guys, that I don't want your help or your perspectives. But unless I've started the conversation with "I could use some advice..." or ended it with "...so what do you think I should do?" then accusing me of 'not wanting to fix' a problem I'm having just because what's readily apparent and obvious to you isn't a reasonable solution to me is pretty insulting. And writing off the entire female gender as 'not really interested in SOLVING problems as much as talking about them' is a pretty good way to keep me from trusting you enough to talk to you about problems you can help solve.
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