Planned attempts to connect

On Tuesday, I gotta go to the doctor. I had a nasal procedure done on February (not surgery), and after a phone check-up, he said it’s best to go back into the office.

A lot of things would stop me from flirting with a man, but right now I’ll start with the saddest: I feel beat up by the dating world. I don’t have any degrees (he has a PhD I think); any money (he’s, “worst” case scenario, middle-class); any interest to fit in (no makeup, no fancy/girly clothes, no concerted efforts to display my femininity, whatever that is).

I mean, I’ve got huge boobs, even if I didn’t want to seem like one, I’m instantly recognized as a woman. With a streak of white hair and glasses. I’ll wear boots that day (as usual) to make the biking go smoothly.

You wanna know what I plan to do to signal fertility and reproductive interest (lololol)?

I’ll wear my hair loose, skinny jeans (how terribly millennial of me), and a black V-neck tee. It’s too hot for my jacket, but I’m coming back home at night, maybe I should take it with me anyhow.

And I’ll bring him soup in a jar because he had COVID between the last time I saw him and now. Am I a sassy harlot or what xD

I feel like that’s good enough of an excuse, right? Your fave doc is sick, you bring them something. And he is a good doc, which is why I’ve noticed him in the first place. Well, it’s more than that.

I really like men (people, really) with neutral gazes. He could be a KKK member for all I know, he’s not displaying the many ways in which other people show disrespect/harassment. No knowing smirk when interacting with me. No “drinking me in” looking up and down my body. No smug/pitying look when he thinks he knows/understands something that I don’t.

Because he doesn’t. He seems to take me at face value and respect my opinions, particularly as a well-informed patient that feels nervous about her treatment.

I feel heard in that mfing office. Damn right I’m bringing that man some soup.

And as you can tell from my statements above, I’m not really flirting with him. Not at all, to be perfectly honest. But a woman dares to dream…this is the part that saddens me the most (but also, I’m at peak ovulation and with little sleep): would he like me if we managed to end the doc-patient relationship? That beat-up-by-the-dating-juncture part of me is going all like: absolutely not, what are you talking about?

I can’t even discourage myself from the shit I’d normally discourage myself from, because I feel like there’s no room in society for women like me: simply not mainstream. That’s it. I don’t walk around in a circus mask, I don’t shout evangelical chants in the train, I don’t perform magic tricks on unsuspecting strangers. I just refuse to go with the downtrodden masses and that is big and complicated by layers of oppressed intersectionality, as in: a thrift-shop-dressed white woman is different from a thrift-shop-dressed brown woman.

My ex, yeah, he is like that. But he doesn’t love me and I should technically be trying to shoot my shot with available bachelors…and this isn’t even one I 1)know to be a bachelor 2)don’t really know if I like him or not since I’ve only met him in a professional setting, and yeah, in that sense I do find myself admiring his work. He respects people, not contingent on gender, race, creed, nationality. It’s a sad state of affairs that that is rare, but it doesn’t mean I won’t acknowledge him for being a real one.

And today I realized that my ex has a basic flair he realized I didn’t have, and so he pulled it way back because it’d be a way in which we differ, and thus noticeable (his one concern being always “under the radar”). In his defense, it was very rare that he was mean-girling, but yeah, I definitely noticed it 😛 I was so wrapped up into my trauma therapy journey, that I really doubt I ever scratched anything more than the surface (when it comes to knowing him).

I wonder what my doc’s flaws are. The doc-patient relationship is not really close to being over yet, so even if I wanted to, I’m far from the moment where I’d have to see just how brave I actually am, lol.

As far as my regular reasons to feel discouraged about (potentially) interesting men: what’s the point, everything ends. How would I even begin to flirt, this is a professional relationship and I don’t like doctors based on the high chances of a god complex (my mom is one). So this is a man, in his 30s, not ugly (can’t say for sure, always seen him with a mask), successful and in a prestigious career with a high gender ratio (there’s a lot of women in the medical field. Idk if they’ve surpassed male doctors, but they dominate nursing and technician roles).

Meaning, even if he’s not a smug prick, he’s getting undeserved validation and attention 24/7, simply based on his identifiers (gender, race, nationality, education, high gender ratio in his chosen field). You don’t see this equivalence, for example, in therapists. No women or men are throwing themselves at psychiatrists or counselors, lol.

I remember visiting my mom at the hospital and every woman in the building paying so much attention to the smug, okayish single doc in his 30s (to be married, so not even single). The older ones would joke around and openly flirt with nurses/technicians. I was grossed out by the whole thing.

And when I studied Law, I saw the same snot-nosed bastards from my first or second year get so full of themselves when they started practicing, that I laughed and wondered if they truly internalized that shit or if they knew it was all based on that career/money prospect combo.

Based on how sexist they remained, I’m gonna say they still continued to feel like shit, they were just outwardly beaming at the newly gained attention. And recently, I learned that attractiveness could be a sign of fertility, but that fertility isn’t associated with health. Meaning, yeah, hot people have more chances to reproduce more, but that doesn’t imply thriving individuals, it implies more chances to have highly reproducing individuals.

Ain’t that cray cray? So, biologically speaking, hotness will always trump wealth, and wealth will always trump unattractiveness. I can see why incels are so mad, they’re ugly and financially insecure. Oh well.

But you wanna know what the smart people are doing? Looking for signifiers of true health (immune function, oxidative stress). And yet here’s the tradeoff: they’ll have fewer fertility cues (not necessarily the most attractive).

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5290736/

So from here on out I’ll jump off based on the discussion in that article and give my own thoughts. Remember this movie?

If the habitat is unfavorable, a cell will choose immortality. If favorable, it will choose to reproduce.

That’s not quite right. Cells don’t choose. They live until they can’t, and then they become fuel for others. And sometimes they reproduce even under suboptimal conditions. Some would say: a lot of people are breeding when they shouldn’t. Me amongst them, lol. So, if fertility only means chances to breed, not chances to breed the healthiest, what’s the point of this individuals with better immune systems that have lower chances to breed?

Here’s an example: my ex. He’s tall, terribly handsome (though now too skinny and just looks angular, not mainstream hot), uber socially awkward with strangers (and, in a different way, with his closest ones). He doesn’t eat much, and his diet is only ok. He can lift an empty fridge up a flight of stairs, no issue. I was shocked, more than aroused, to be honest. Based on what he eats, it’s not behavior I expect from him. Or was it my washing machine? No, that’s too bulky. It was probably my fridge (when he helped me move to my current apartment).

You know what did use to drive me wild? His scent. Especially if he had sweated. I’d NEVER had that kind of visceral response to a man’s musk. Once in high school I really really liked a classmate’s perfume, but that’s it. Fifteen years or so later, my ex’s natural smell had me losing my shit. I loved his armpits.

But now it bothers me if he isn’t perfectly bathed/sprayed when I visit. I don’t feel like I used to. And while we can’t really deconstruct desire to its atomical components, breakthroughs in trauma therapy and on my own, about my life and attachment style, have affected my love first, then passion for him, then libido in general. I’m currently ovulating, I should be passed the fuck out from 2-4 hours of masturbation, and I had 2 orgasms this late afternoon and that’s it. I could’ve gone for a third but I had shit to do.

If chemistry is not as powerful as I originally thought it to be in my relationship with him, I wonder how high is the percentage of non-verbal cues that he gave me that he’d most closely resemble the (in)attention I received growing up? Cause that number seems to be getting higher with time.

Also, I loved it when he came in me. Don’t have current experiences for comparison, but back then, oh yeah. He had to fill me up and sometimes I couldn’t even come until I had his jizz coming out of me. I felt it was so soothing. It gave me peace, in a way. Like a must-have entrée before enjoying my meal (sex). He’s not really often sick (though always whining about his tummy, which would feel better if he ate more), and other than wearing glasses, seems to be perfectly healthy. Has amazing skin, though that could be related to not putting any products in it, and going easy on the soap. His head, when I put my fingers in his temples, felt really closed in. Like a perfectly rounded globe, not a skull. Like his head really encloses his brain and thoughts (again, feels like. His head is pretty standard).

No I don’t do drugs, yes I do think he’s one of those individuals with a better immune system and fewer fertility signals. Everything is possible, but I really will be surprised the day he gets someone pregnant, purely based on his need for isolation.

I don’t know how I measure up in terms of immune function and oxidative stress, but it’s definitely not just trauma that makes me decide not to breed. I do consider this to be a suboptimal habitat, and so I too am “choosing” immortality (more like, just not reproducing).

So, if we are all depending on systems, what’s the point of individuals inside one that are taking themselves out of the (reproductive) race? If continuity is the race from a biological standpoint, are we or are we not more than the DNA strands, meat and bones that make all of us?

I can’t help but to think about it in metaphysical terms. Plainly, just Buddhist terms: you’re done with this world when you’re done with the lessons you have to learn in it. Either going up or down the “evolutionary” chain. Do I have to keep coming back or can I go to the next level of the game?

I want to give my attention and time to humankind, but if continuity is not a sacred, divine principle, maybe I need to pay more attention to my inner thoughts. Anchor myself to this existence and this body in a different way. I always thought continuity was sacred and divine purely because it brought me here, but there’s nothing but moral neutrality in Nature.

If I don’t have to live for others (because I would care about the future of the world, regardless of whether my offspring play a part in it or not), would I still do it? Even if it’s just because it would bring me happiness? Gotta say, I’m not that evolved. I’m still looking forward to my time with my ex, purely because it’s someone I trust that I can hug and feel safe with. A trusty mammal after all xD.

I guess I’ll try to live half of my life purely in selfish pursuits, and the other half in selfless ones.

So, yeah. Can you imagine an all-in feminist flirting and giving attention to a doctor, even if this one has proved to be -at least professionally- a good one? I mean, I can’t really flirt, so at least the “regular route” is out for me. I know now that going all-in without really getting to know the person is a no-no, so I guess this would be -if successful- the first time I take my time and get to know someone and blah blah blah…

Just the thought tires me. It just wouldn’t work! And also, depending on him being someone that wants the same thing (a relationship that ends up in marriage, maybe kids), in the same manner (monogamous AF). When would I ask my fucking medical practitioner this type of thing? I’m fucking tripping.

But yeah, this is what happens when no one or nothing excites me. The long shots begin to show their appeal.

Regardless, I’m more confident that, other than the soup gift portion of the appointment, I’ll be more validated and heard in that office than my other two plans for that day. Hanging out with my two exes. First, the avoidant fuck that has all the vocabulary in the world to tell me the things he doesn’t want versus the ones he does (have y’all seen Made for Love? It’s so good. That show made me realize that someone always wanting you to cum but not cumming themselves is a form of shielding themselves from the emotional vulnerability of sex. THAT’S HIM. THAT’S MY EX). I bet he won’t be able to fuck me again and will just finger me. And I don’t think he’s into cuddling outside of the bedroom anymore either, as he runs to his other couch when I sit in one so, after we attempt to have sex, we’ll just eat and oh yeah, he’s helping me drill some acrylic decors I want to use. I’ll cook. At least it will be time spent in conversation with someone. If this meetup proves as barren as the previous two, I really need to step up my dating life, because if unsatisfying as a fuck buddy, or even buddy in general, then really, why bike my way through the city to see him. He’s so concerned with figuring out why I want to see him (he balked at the idea of cooking, I said, help me with DIY and I’ll handle it), and yet he never ponders just how difficult it would be for him to say 2 or 3 simple phrases as to why he‘d like to see me. ANYTHING that could offer a glimpse as to how he feels (he could literally just say we’re friends, and that’d be cool) must be at avoided at all costs. I love avoidants’ M.O. of never disclosing his feelings or opinions about others, like this action itself is not indicative of a social difficulty/trauma. It ain’t that hard (or at least it shouldn’t be) to say to someone hey, I want to hang out with you. If it is, you’ve got something happening upstairs.

And afterwards, I told my bad ex I’d forgive his latest assholery if he got me some nice stickers that are not available in the DIY store here in my town. If he does get them, I’ll stop by after seeing my “good” ex.

I can’t believe I’ll feel the most connected during my doctor appointment, with a man that’s never even touched me. Feeling heard and validated (plus, getting the same from someone else, which in this case, it’s not possible because it’s a professional relationship) truly do rank first on my list.

If I have a day of planned social interactions, and their order matches their importance, I think I should act accordingly, non?

So, for my dear doc: I’ll make a big pot of soup so while I’m appreciating him (the small container) I’m also doing something for myself (food for me when I come back). I’ll bring notes to make sure I don’t forget to mention anything relevant to my treatment. I’ll thank him for being good at his job when he says thank you for the soup, and express my happiness that he beat his strong case of COVID and that he’s back on the job.

For my ex: I’ll buy some spices because I’m making air-fryed chicken at his, and maybe a green or two if he wants a salad. That is it.

For my bad ex: I’ll bring some of my strong thread to fix maybe one or two of the doggie’s toys, if and only if he gets me those stickers I want. That’s it.

An acknowledgement to the red-blooded animal inside of me (wanting love or, the best next thing, temporary yet meaningful connections). And I should also acknowledge that I no longer feel that breeding is sacred or divine. I was already short on spirituality, and I do still admire and worship Nature (at least in thought).

But what if there’s more?

Metaphysically yours,

L.

P.S.: Did I ever tell y’all? When I was 16, I wanted to climb Everest Mountain, and then become a Buddhist nun. And during my aya visions, I saw myself as a woman of service, not really meant for the (big) family life. We shall see! In the end, I do subscribe to the fact that we are all one.

Regulating needs and wants, satisfying them for satisfaction sake and as a way to transcend. Humaning can be hard!