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Searhing for love concept art - Getty Images
“How come I never get the good guys?” Shelly asked.
I recalled Miss Grutzmacher from the first Superman movie, cradling the Krypton-stricken Man of Steel and wistfully wondering what Lois Lane possessed that she lacked. Shelly's “book of love” had similar chapters filled with cameo appearances by losers, emotional parasites and closet narcissists.
“It must be some hidden message I’m sending without knowing it, because I don’t seem to get connected with decent guys. Instead, I get fourteen-year-olds hidden in adult bodies,” she lamented.
I thought of saying “There aren’t that many decent guys,” reflecting my disappointment and cynicism toward much of my gender. However, that seemed dismissive of her genuine angst.
No Good Guys?
Shelly’s conundrum was perplexing. She was attractive, intelligent, outgoing and nurturing. How come no good guys?
“You're suggesting that at the conscious level you may think you want a decent guy, but deep in your subconscious you actually long for a footloose bad boy?” I asked.
“Either that or I’m using these losers to protect myself from commitment or intimacy. If I really fear getting close, then jerks are safe,” she hypothesized.
We shrink-types, and those of you who listen to us too much, love to speculate about unconscious agendas and “hidden scripts” controlling our behavior from the shadows of the psyche. Our theories are intriguing and enigmatic, and virtually impossible to disprove. But that doesn’t make them correct.
“My intuition tells me you don’t want a loser. You don’t seem afraid of getting close, and you’re capable of emotional intimacy,” I asserted.
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“It feels good to hear that, but what is it then, just bad luck?”
“Another possibility is bad self-esteem. Perhaps deep down, if we don't feel worthy of partners with character and sensitivity, we settle for somebody who is on what we see as our own level,” I offered.
Lingering Doubts
Shelly felt there might be some credence to this theory.
“I've done a good job of polishing my exterior, my looks and all, but inside I still have this lingering sense I'm not really good looking, intelligent or even lovable. Is this some sort of imposter syndrome? Maybe guys can sense that in me,” she speculated.
Because so much of human interaction occurs beyond conscious awareness, often we communicate how we feel about ourselves without realizing what we are “saying.” And while other people may not be aware they are detecting these unconscious messages, they often do and react accordingly.
However, I cautioned her not to discount her earlier suggestion. Bad luck. Our highly psychologized culture with its strong emphasis on being self-made and in control of one’s destiny convinces most of us that if something isn’t going our way, we must be deficient or misfiring in some fashion.
However, finding one’s life partner doesn’t always submit to one’s efforts, no matter how persistent and skillful. In the sea of available love interests, where one swims, so to speak, can be as impactful as how one swims.
“It’s possible you’re doing everything right but it’s still turning out wrong,” I suggested to Shelly.
I recalled a scene from another movie, The Shootist, featuring John Wayne as a terminally ill gunfighter who happens upon a pretty young lady on his way to his final showdown. When leaving her presence, he tips his hat and remarks, “I sure hope the right fella comes along.”
The right fella or the right gal showing up . . . sometimes, no matter how hard we try, it comes down to that.
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