the story teller
There’s one thing that holds me back from really throwing myself into a new relationship. It’s never been hard for me to meet people. Make new friends. Talk to men. I’m fine with all of that. The one thing that I really hate, and that I am not looking forward to now, is telling my story.
You know. Our stories. All of those sad, happy and strange tales that make up the whole of your life. That made us into the people we are today. I should have my story down by now. Edited and encapsulated into a breezy 10 minute conversation.
But I always hate when starting over with someone new, and telling them all about me. Telling them that story.
This is a big reason why I’ve been known to recycle old boyfriends, I think. They already know my story. They understand all of my odd quirks. Why I get mad when I should be crying. Why I sometimes drink and when I do, why I wander off like a lost alley cat. Why I often worry or overly fret that I may have done something wrong. They don’t judge me for any of it. And there are no long explanations afterwards. It happened, I’m sorry, now it’s over. Bliss.
The times I’ve met someone and understood, like I always do, that he just wasn’t the one, I didn’t even bother telling him my story. I just made something up that sounded relatively sane. Perpetuating normalcy. Nosir, no skeletons in my closet. Yes, it was all just fun and games when I was growing up. Normal.
Whatever that means.
Now that I’m considering new relationship possibilities, I’m wondering… Along with red flags, perspectives and filters, wouldn’t it be great if we could just make up little cards that told our stories? And then hand them out to likely prospects?
This is how my story telling card might read:
Lisa
Hobbies include: wrangling angry drunks, putting my foot in my mouth and tripping over my feet when I am drinking. I have the scars to prove all of it.
Likes: Picnics in lonely orchards, writing, reading, daydreaming and self-made men.
Dislikes: Country music, math and grabby people who don’t know me.
Goals: Huh?
Even on my own card, I have no idea how to sum up what’s next. That figures.
Flipping my switch on, my friend Robyn calls it. That “available” switch that lets others know, that yes, I’m receptive to having a relationship with you.
I’m thinking about flipping on that switch. I just don’t want to tell that story.
You know. Our stories. All of those sad, happy and strange tales that make up the whole of your life. That made us into the people we are today. I should have my story down by now. Edited and encapsulated into a breezy 10 minute conversation.
But I always hate when starting over with someone new, and telling them all about me. Telling them that story.
This is a big reason why I’ve been known to recycle old boyfriends, I think. They already know my story. They understand all of my odd quirks. Why I get mad when I should be crying. Why I sometimes drink and when I do, why I wander off like a lost alley cat. Why I often worry or overly fret that I may have done something wrong. They don’t judge me for any of it. And there are no long explanations afterwards. It happened, I’m sorry, now it’s over. Bliss.
The times I’ve met someone and understood, like I always do, that he just wasn’t the one, I didn’t even bother telling him my story. I just made something up that sounded relatively sane. Perpetuating normalcy. Nosir, no skeletons in my closet. Yes, it was all just fun and games when I was growing up. Normal.
Whatever that means.
Now that I’m considering new relationship possibilities, I’m wondering… Along with red flags, perspectives and filters, wouldn’t it be great if we could just make up little cards that told our stories? And then hand them out to likely prospects?
This is how my story telling card might read:
Lisa
Hobbies include: wrangling angry drunks, putting my foot in my mouth and tripping over my feet when I am drinking. I have the scars to prove all of it.
Likes: Picnics in lonely orchards, writing, reading, daydreaming and self-made men.
Dislikes: Country music, math and grabby people who don’t know me.
Goals: Huh?
Even on my own card, I have no idea how to sum up what’s next. That figures.
Flipping my switch on, my friend Robyn calls it. That “available” switch that lets others know, that yes, I’m receptive to having a relationship with you.
I’m thinking about flipping on that switch. I just don’t want to tell that story.
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