High Horses Are Not For Dating. . .

You know what would be nice? If people would just legitimately express their interest in others. It seems to me the whole pretense of playing coy, is really a poor tactical decision. . . it seems like life would just be easier that way anyways.

- D

When In Rome (you'll be fucked over by Romans)

As a follow up to my last entry I'd like to touch on the repercussions of failed romantic adventures. If you've been reading my blog lately you probably realize I recently have had a demoralizing setback in my personal life. Despite all my cynical bravado, at my core, I still seem to foolishly believe in the all encompassing curative power of true love . . . which can translate into serious disappointment in the real word.

Something I have wrestled with is the conflict between idealistic romantic notions and the accompanying disillusionment that follows heartbreaks. One of my worst fears is to loss the ability to genuinely care for another person. More specifically, though, I worry that, with each subsequent amorous letdown, my view of trans-women will take a more and more negative character.

I know, from other blogs and community message boards, that my fear over this internal trend is not unfounded. It seems that, for many reasons (probably well known to what readers I may have), there is often a vicious cycle of trans-women and men hurting and getting hurt by each other in turn. The net result of this can, often times, be quit ugly.

I (sort of) recently read an advice column, however, that really help put this phenomenon into perspective. In a recent Savage Love (syndicated columnist Dan Savage answered, whom you should Google) answered email by a gay women who was questioning why it seemed as if all gay women were jerks. Dan's answer? If you're a woman, who dates women, when you run into a jerk, the jerk'll be a chick!

I know this seems kinda obvious, but when I read that, a light bulb really went off in my head. Now if I can only try and remember to tell myself that next time a t-girl breaks my heart. . .

- D

Death of the Nice Guy

So this is a re-post of a re-post. Whoever originally wrote this, I think, certainly hit the nail on the head*, so I thought I'd put it up for whom it may concern. I find that what is described very much fits the pattern of validation seeking I discussed in an previous blog

* Edit: I wasn't clear here. What I mean by "hit the nail on the head" is, I think, the original author, now lost to the internet ether, is a really good example of the mirror reflection of a jaded mindset I've seen in women who've been mistreated by men. There is certainly a underlining bitter tone to Mr. X's words, but I don't feel that it is fair to dismiss the core sentiment that is expressed.

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I'd take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven't figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He'd tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn't feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were "just friends." Besides, he totally wasn't your type. I mean, he was a little too ____, or not ____ enough, or didn't know how to _____, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren't the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you're single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, "What happened to all the nice guys?"

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind. You laughed at his consideration and subtly resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive "just-a-" friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren't really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you're upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he'd have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he's probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the complete absence of "nice guys" in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you're looking for a nice guy, here's what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what's right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don't really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.

So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you've fucked yourself over. You're getting older, after all. It's time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn't want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn't fucking want you, now.

Sincerely,

A former Nice Guy now a Bad, Bad Boy!!!

Tonight I'm a Sad Bunny Rabbit

The worst part about having your heart broken is the disappointment.

That slow withering away of idealism mixes with a gradual realization that what might have been will never be. This knowledge casts a long, unpredictable, shadow from which melancholy emerges at varying intervals.

The knowledge that you gave your all, but through no fault of you own, it was ultimately insufficient, allows for over analytical critical self-examination which results in crippling self-doubt.

I loved her more than she ever realized or I thought possible given the circumstances.

The Rough 'n' Tumble world of Online Dating

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Where have I been? (pt.2)

Continuing where I left off...

I decided not to pursue a relationship with the girl I'd been corresponding with. Which so began one of the surrealist episodes of my life. I tried to make a clean and honorable break, although, in all fairness, there's not really a nice way to say, "sorry, I think you're bat shit crazy and you scare the bejesus out of me."

This girl was what I call a "big deal on the internet" e.g. she has lots of cyber friends (none of whom she'd ever met in person, as far as I know). She started a campaign to isolate me on the most prominent transgender dating sites. She did this a number of ways, most notably by befriending girls in my area to "warn" them about me, which I found particularly disingenuous consider in several instances, I knew for a fact that she, in actuality, seriously disliked her new "friends." I quickly found myself being drawn into a internet PR war, which I decided to avoid by lowering my profile in cyberland. In other words, I was bullied off the internet.

Needless to say, the whole situation was rather stressful, but what was really the most difficult part was that I found several acquaintances, who I considered friends (as much as you can people you know via the internet) took her "side" in the drama of this internet "break-up"

The truly bizarre thing is, even though this person has since be "publicly" shown to be a crazy person and - I believe - banned from a few dating sites, for some reason, the stigma surrounding me remains. I even had a run in with with a girl last month who called me out for supposedly being "just another typical dodgy tranny chaser" - which under the circumstances was funny, considering this girl once stood me up on a date!

I think there are really three lessons to be learned by this: 1) hell hath no furry like the women scorned; 2) the transgender world is a small one; 3) don't believe everything some you "know" on the internet tells you.

D.

Where have I been? (pt.1)

I maintained this blog, as well as its predecessor, for a fairly long time. But for reasons I'm not entirely sure about, though, I decided to take a break from blogging about a year and a half ago. So I thought whoever's out there might like a recap of what's been going on in the last 18-19 month.

Queue cheesy movie flashback squigly lines and fade to black and white...

In the Summer of 2008 I started corresponding with a girl via a dating site (actually, one of these days I ought to blog about trans-oriented dating sites). We talked via email, IM and phone for about four months; in fact, we talked and texted so much we had to start making rules for ourselves to not call during peak hours, because while all's fair in love and war, $400 phone bills ain't so sexy!

Finally, as a three-day holiday weekend approached, we made plans for me to visit her (we were living about 450 miles away for each other at the time). The fact that it took her 4-months to agree to meet me didn't seem odd at time; it actually seemed to make a lot of sense, somehow, but in hindsight, it ought to have been a red flag.

We actually spent three really chill days together, and in some ways, we really clicked. But in other aspects, there were obvious issues.

What came across as kinda cutely endearing neuroticisms over the phone, I realized in person, were seriously pathological anxieties. What seemed tough circumstances due to some seriously bad luck I realized emblematic of much deeper problems. What looked to be candid pictures turned out to be staged, retouched, highly selected, and, not always resent. Lastly (and honestly most troublingly) what seemed to be fierce loyalty and passionate romanticism I realized was actually intense possessiveness with possible stalker potential...

...because of those factors I, ultimately, decided not to pursue a relationship with her.