Why put the ball in his court if he ain’t gonna catch it
**DISCLAIMER** Although a lot of blogs out there highlight a bullet-point resolution to issues about the subject at hand — frankly, this one doesn’t. This is moreso a commiseration blog that I hope will resonate with others in the same boat. If that “helps” somebody in some way, well, splendid. Sometimes the help you offer is not in the form of advice but open thoughts of someone’s personal journey, like painting thoughts on paper. Enter mine….
In 2007 there was an unprecendented drop in the birthrate in the USA and it took years for people to figure out why. Fastforward to 2023 and the birth rate has fallen even more. Climate change, Instagram, shallow texting taking the place of intimate phone calls, red pill YouTube communities, cat videos, 24/7 entertainment, dating apps, onlyfans, free p***, and fear mongering, all in….the palm…of your…..hand. Yes, the iPhone made its debut in 2007 and ever since it has been our biggest tool — and nusance at the same time.
Since we now have the world at our finger tips, enter the Attention & Distraction Economies. Yes, financial institutions built off the backs of your distraction. How clever. How insidious. So, what does this have to do with passive love? Every little nitty gritty thing that people are not pulling back enough layers in the dating realm to truly examine (mostly because dating app businesses and relationship gurus are making such a profit keeping singles single — but that’s for another blog). I believe the commodification of distractions has had a ripple effect on creating solid romantic connections.
That is why, when I lost my phone while I was visiting Denmark last April, I was only faintly dismayed that I lost something that, much like so many other millennials, I had made my world. On the contrary I felt liberation and peace come over me as I thought, “Yes, this is my chance to go back to to the 90’s, I’ve always wanted to survive off a burner phone!” I still don’t use Alexa or Siri, nor do I have bluetooth ear pods, I’m basically the last one to get inline with a new technology and I’m always the last on the plane (seriously, why are you all standing in line right when they call boarding??). Cal Newport highlights this in his book “Digital Minimilism” which I recommend everybody read.
Whenever I talk to my Grandma about the state of affairs, she often recalls this one Bible verse, the most chilling and sobering three words to explain the pitfalls of modernity: “Knowledge will bring sorrow.” Ain’t that the truth, Grandma. We exist in a vacuum of distractions not giving us the chance to reflect and focus on the meaningful parts of life in the prehistoric days leading up to that 2007 invention. I’ve always been suspect of this gadget that fulfilled — outside of eating, sleeping and exercise — all we ever wanted and needed. Too much knowledge scares me. From nonchalantly tapping my index finger on a button, reading my fingerprint to unlock my computer to the the fact that I can buy something off Amazon and have it at my doorstep in the time it takes to order Chinese food (and practically free of shipping )— these modern marvels of convenience alarm me.
Every girl has heard the phrase “A man will move mountains for the woman he is in love with.” It’s more like mounds these days — but mountains, no way. Buckle up Buttercup, you might have to drive to find Wesley in 2023 because I don’t know, he might be distracted by other things and you don’t want to inconvenience him. There are just too many shiny objects today by which even the otherwise quintessential good man gets enraptured. Enter the lopsided energies developed over time between the genders: I see a ton of meek men and alot of aggressive women, both brewing in the Passive Love culture we see right now.
Call me crazy but I’ve always been a fan of undivided attention from the person I’m dating — from the get go. First date. Yep, I’m loyal from the beginning so I expect my guy to be as well — loyal to getting to know just eachother. “But you get burned because you feel too much too soon, Whit.” Sorry I can’t help my limerance spirit — a run-off from my artist brain? Perhaps. I’m not going to apologize because According to science, lims and non lims need eachother! I just can’t help that I rather be all about someone early on if I’m going to eventually be spending 24/7 with him and have babies and sleep in the same bed everynight — ya damn right I project into the future. It’s how I’m wired and I can’t shake that. I used to shame myself hard for this “weakness” in my life but now I’ve turned the card table over: the problem is not me and my feelings, it’s most of my generation’s half-ass intentions on love.
This is a scene from the movie Secondhand Lions when the wise old WWI vet (played by Robert Duvall) knocks some sense into the younger guy and I just LOVE how it encapsulates true masculinity. I hope it awakens every man in America right now. Live with purpose, passion, and learn to love ONE woman:
“ANY MAN WHO AWAKENS A WOMAN”S LOVE WITHOUT ANY INTENTION OF LOVING HER IS A COWARD.” -BOB MARLEY
Just because women (and men) like me feel deeply and wear our hearts on our sleeves does not mean we are desperate — it means we are confident and using our sacred vulnerability on someone that is welcoming us to do so. We are black and white — we get anxious in the grey. So, when love derails, we are left destitute in the dark alley way of emotions and wasted empathy.
We are not psychopathic/narcisstic like those around us giving humanity a bad name right now — but perhaps we could borrow some of those traits? It sure would take the singe off the pain of a loss. Or maybe it’s the projectedpain of loss, feeling so right about a future with them that turned us down in the end. Heck, either way it’s real human empathy wasted on someone — now we have to go about life being more discerning about who we give empathy to. Hence, life does not feel as organic and that saddens me. This read is mostly for women (although some men will glean similar sentiments) who expended their good love on someone who only gave them mediocre in return. The roots of passive love run deep…
THE PRIMARY CHARACTERISTIC OF PASSIVE LOVE
No one really talks about this but I believe the worst form of unrequited love is not the black n’ white kind in which you really liked someone and they showed you no interest back. Oh no, it’s the THAT GREY. The mess-with-you’re-head kind. Let’s call it a state of purgatory — like this could lead to heaven or hell. And you’ll take that gamble because, even though they are giving you breadcrumbs, it could mean something deeper. It’s the inner dialogue you’ve heard before “oh we’ll just be friends and play it safe, even though deep down inside I know I will resent him later for wasting my precious time and energy on where I thought we were going with eachother.” It’s our hope and idealist mindset kicking in — for which has served us in the past when we used it for different situations in life and we think it will do the same here. It’s the “Maybe they are just shy, insert all other excuses here_____.” Passive Love has plagued a nation and its intentional well-meaning individuals who have been on its receiving end.
“NO ONE CAN TAKE YOUR SPARKLE”
That was said 8 years ago to by a friend trying to comfort me about a guy who let me down — that “bait n’ switch” let down. He reeled me and let me go. Enter the Passive Love I would experience on and off in subsequent years. It’s so immature and sophmoric. I often thought, surely when I get to my 30s and start dating men in their 30s and 40s they will be intentional and not lead me on! I’m laughing now. I have always been a black n’ white person — due to my limerant psychology (or you could call it a pathology because of how crippling it is to feel such intense feelings for my LO), so I have either had the ick or the awe for someone — rarely has there been a grey area. That has saved me a lot of decision making but it had also led to a lot of grieving because I was either not enough or I was too much for a man. I have tinkered with the idea of belittling myself — not fulfilling my lofty dreams — in order not to intimidate a male prospect. On the other hand, the grief I have had felt in the romance department has interestingly been fuel to empower me to keep my hopes up. I’ve come so far. So many people have come so far: one must never give up on the noble desires in life.
MY ART AND POETRY: A CATHARTIC JOURNEY THROUGH THE BULLSHIT OF FAILED ROMANCE
A couple of years ago I was experiencing an unrequited love situation and, turning to art as my therapy, I drew a rudimentary illustration in “Precious Moments” style to demonstrate the universal meaning of the phrase. But it doesn’t reveal the Passive love of emotionally-constipated adults, the most insideous. Because, here’s the nuance: they do want your attention and they give you theirs, you are the object of that person’s affections — BUT, nothing past that point. It’s like the passive lovers are expressing this long run-on sentence: “I want just enough of you for an ego boost but I got hangups in my life and they have nothing to do with you but in the end you will feel gaslit by my actions, you’ll feel like there was something wrong with you because of the way I reeled you in and then pulled the rug out from underneath you.”
MY POEM
I wrote a poem years ago to show this vulnerable energy and the reluctance I have to open up with men in general. Historically, when I’ve been in love I feel so euphoric that its crippling (again, limerence), a lot of beauty has come from it, but so has a lot of pain. This poem is about that girl getting her feet wet way before the boy’s and there is an undertone of anxiety you can sense from her, that which so many have felt going into a grey Passive Love Zone with somebody:
If
by Whitney L. Anderson
>>>> — — — — — -♡ — — — — — — →
If I let you have me would I be your sunshine or just your moonlight. Would you use me as a night light — be your goodmorning and then goodbye? Would you only talk to me when you’re lonely when you’re not hangin with your boys or would you give it a whirl and would I be your girl?
If I let you have me would I be a scented candle burning so bright or would you hush my fire whenever you like and light another because you love a new flame’s sight?
If I let you have me would I be the entree of your life or would you eat me up like a candy and get nothing but a one night high, throw away your wrapper and sigh — where’s my next bite? Would I not be the gift that keeps on giving or am i your Toys R Us toy here today for your child’s play, gone tomorrow when you’re ready for your next big boy action hero?
If I let you have my heart would you be cliche and rip it apart over some stupid mistake? Would you burry the wound deeper by saying “I never meant to hurt you in that way”?
If I answered your calls on time when they came would you answer mine on the first chime? Take advantage of the whole heart I’ve been giving you and never bother to think about what it took you to ask me out on our first date?
If I told you my darkest secrets would you see them as my weaknesses that you can overpower me when my soul bleeds from guilt or my strength in that I want to move on with my life and you’re the only one I want to hold my chin up when I fight through my darkest nights.
If I let you be mine would you be concrete or sand? Let me sink into your life, know the depths of your soul, the things that make you happy, cry, half or whole. If you were just a block of concrete my hands would bleed in vain as I would try try to beat down your cement walls everyday
If we went out would u look around at the other girls and wonder how you could do better or would you realize how good you already had it?
If I were a song in your life would you make me your chorus or just throw me in one line?
If you just said you loved me would there even be another if?
HOW MEN GOT PASSIVE (don’t hurt me y’all, I’m just the messenger)
In my blog “How Feminism Created the Never-Ending Dating Generation,” I talk about this phenomenon that started almost 100 years ago when dating came onto the forefront: the rise of “charity girls” started putting prostitutes out of business in the early 1900s New York. Today, Charity Girls run rampant, they encompass the average female dater who gives up her body before the ring. If you can hold out longer you’ll be better for it, but still, the man got his candy and can still run: there is no commitment holding him accountable to stay. Outside of working in porn, OnlyFans and strip clubs, any time a woman engages in fornication she is emphatically a glorified prostitute on the DL.
The jig is up — and it’s about time our mothers tell you the truth. Hers (the baby boomers in this case) made it an open secret and no longer taboo, due to sexual mores changing in the 1960s, thus, it was the cool rebellious thing to do back then — but not anymore. Eventhough she secretely knows it’s wrong, she can only chastize you so much, right? That would be judgemental and hypocritical of her unless she divulged her past to you. But she’s not going to do that. Most mothers will not do that because they want to look like the literal white bride they were on their wedding day. Leading us on in this way sure did not serve the next generation.
SEX IS THE EASIEST THING IN THE WORLD (but its only the safest for your mind, body and spirit in ONE context)
Oh you have a sex drive? Me, too! Gosh, can’t believe the sophomoric attitude we have on getting our rocks off before marriage. For those who have been practicing abstinence for years until marriage (or intermittently if you’ve slipped), damn I know the struggle. I’m not called to celibacy that’s for sure — heck, I’ve cried because the urge is so strong. But I always remind myself that I didn’t come this far to come this far in terms of preserving that side of my dignity. I’ve had to practice temperance — often begrudgingly — because I know this verse that has stuck with me for years: “Well done good and faithful servant.” I am stubbornly secure with my ways despite what the bait the world is dangling right in front of me. And it’s not just available sex, it’s the cavalier attitude you have as a prerequisite to doing it. My attitude is that I’ve only ever wanted my husband, that’s it — not the slew of guys I could have had while waiting for him.
I’ve cried many times over the FOMO that overtakes me though, that proverbial devil that represents the mainstream views of said horizontal culture whispering to my psyche, “You are in your prime, wasting your good body, you are missing out, Whitney!” This “whisper” has manifested through movies, music and the household name of birth control (which was not even given outside of married couple until the 60s) to give us carte blanche to premarital sex. It’s a cruel trick. I’ve started to tell people “your know, sex is the easiest thing in the world.” It’s too easy. Pretty easy for such life-changing events such as getting pregnant when you’re not married, STD’s, too easy to get a soul tie, too easy to start comparing the next guy to the last guy until you meet the person you want to marry and then you have a trail of soul ties. Those who are ahead of the curve collectively start asking themselves, “How could the easiest lowest common denominator cause so much pain?” If your conscious is tugging at you because of the state of affairs, you’re not wrong. That’s why self control is paramount today. So, be empowered by what I have told myself and others: you have no obligation to sleep with your boyfriend. Absolutely NO OBLIGATION. If you want to feel the true form of empowerment and not the feminist kind, listen to your grandmother who waited…..
ONLINE DATING
There is nothing good for me to say here (cue the scores of Google pages with SCORES of articles denouncing this subject). Nothing new I would say about it here. For the people who are boycotting it by no longer participating, keep going, team.
HOW TO RECOGNIZE HOW I PARTICIPATE IN THIS CLOWN WORLD AND WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT (DIY SAFE SPACE)
The safest space is your own. The facts are that we have agency and we consent to almost everything we do or allow have done to us. That is the most empowering yet annoying/bothersome statement, because that means I take responsibility for things I didn’t even realize before! However, since we mere mortals don’t have crystal balls, we can only bear so much of that burden; this is something I’ve heard psychologists dub “it’s not your fault but it is your responsibility.” (Perplexing phrase, I know).
So, it’s no wonder, as I reflect back that I was consenting to my own detriment. Life is about risks though and the risk of the could-be is a better hormone concoction than the risk of not taking it and letting our love hormones remain stagnant. Here was my inner talk at the time: “This is the way men are today, passive and shy. I need to be the strong one and make things happen.” He’s giving 40% from the beginning, what’s me crossing over another other 10% to meet him where he is at? He’s wounded, I’m the strong one, I’ll make him stronger to actually love me. I’ve heard the stories from women in which they were aggressive and got their man. I don’t want to be manipulative, but perhaps I should play so coy — I need to be direct or a man won’t come after me. We live in a meek society right now…” and on and on the rationalizing goes. Note to self: don’t consent to half-ass love from the get go.
THE AGRESSIVE “PICK ME’S” CULTURE
I have long said to my friends that the plethora of good-looking have-it-going-on women with a personality do not match the plethora of men that have the same. Thus, relatively speaking, there are more eligible bachelorettes in this country than eligible bachelors. That is why women have had to become more aggressive about finding someone as their match. That, or lower your standards and sell out from who you innately feel comfortable being with — i.e. the book “Marry Him: The case for settling for Mr. Good Enough” by Lori Gottleib (the most abysmal title ever, right?). Should women like me who are strongly traditional participate? “You need to be more assertive, Whitney!” Says the woman who nabbed her husband by reaching out first (i.e. Simone Biles style, the text book definition of this). Something has never sat well with me about that. Let’s call it manipulative.
Even as this is the case where society is headed, it still dumbfounds me to think that a woman do the pursuing. I don’t know about that kind of woman, but it goes against my demure feminine nature. Not only that, I don’t want to be the leader in my relationship — yes, guidance behind the scenes — but I have to take the lead in every other aspect of my life as a single woman. The last thing I want in a man is that passive love. Breadcrumbing. Dangling the carrot of a life together — “future faking”, they call it these days? I’ll only give it so much attention until I can no longer for the sake of maintaining my dignity and knowing I deserve a man’s undivided attention as I am giving him mine.
THE ENIGMA OF LOVE RESTS IN THE NUANCE OF INTEREST
I cant’ reprimand a grown man for doing a bait and switch that I consented to. Still, I have days where my blood boils thinking that I let my heart be exposed and saying vulnerable things to show my affection; I was inevitably making more out of the breadcrumbs being presented to me. Awe those sweet breadcrumbs…that’s what makes up what I call the worst kind of player: the one who doesn’t seem like one at all. The covert F boy. If you are GenZ, just listen to Stevie Nicks “Players only love you when they’re playing” and you’ll get my picture. So, ruminating on my past situation, I come to the problem that’s answer is even more elusive: how do I know the difference between a passive indifferent guy who just wants an ego stroke to that of a guy who is nervous and wants me but is trying to “play it cool” and not front load his emotions? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop — the world may never know….
KEEPING GOOD NEWS PRIVATE and OFFLINE IS NOT BEING INDIFFERENT, IT’S HONORING THE SACREDNESS OF IT.
Ask me how I’m doing — or any of my amazing girl friends in their mid 30s— and you’ll find the dull pain of not having been married off by now. Maybe its because we are so inundated with posts of the engagement, the Big Day, the first child, the 5yr wedding anniversary and on it goes, but I know it’s the algorithm. It’s social media feed’s fault and not my friend’s trying to shove their big news down my throat every time I get online. I’ve found there is a fine line between feeling inspired by someone and feeling envious of them — oh the fine line! I’m happy for them, their feets are inspirational but it leaves me feeling empty. No matter all that I have accomplished in this world, no matter that I have held onto my dignity more than most woman my age, no matter that I have lived an authentic healthy life — my man still evades me.
This makes me almost want to mirror my bad fortune of being single for this long—as in, I want to evade society when I eventually do get married and have babies. I don’t want a wedding. I want to elope and I won’t be sharing my children on social media. The sacredness of such things — albeit celebratory — has been subverted into something more commercial. I almost look at weddings as tacky. Maybe I’m scrooging here but hang with me: you become a passive commodity, a brand with everything you promote on social media. Innocent sharing spills over into the slot machine of likes, in essence my marriage, my ring, my kids, how I threw their birthday party — they all convert into this weird digital clout for others to chase and admire. That’s the double-edge sword of aspirational: we need people to show off their families and their rings and their “I love you, boo” as it reminds us that the nulear family is going strong but a lot of it is for clout and it even gives off the wrong impression of what is going on in the background of those cheerful photos. You become a new brand of person once you get married and you are trying to capitalize off of that through cultural acceptance, I get it. For me, however, I don’t plan on sharing that much.
“HOW CAN I EASE THE PAIN….WHEN I KNOW YOU’RE COMING BACK AGAIN”
Those were the famous lyrics of an unknown siren of a voice, Miss Lisa Fisher from her song “How can I ease the pain” 1991. You know those songs where you distinctly remember where you were when they first laid eyes on your ears? Yes, Lisa Fisher’s was one such song. It was a pretty mundane moment in time but I recall it so vividly because that day marked the new soundtrack to my soul. It also encapsulated my past and all of the melancholic experiences I have had with dating and the handful of relationships that barely got off the ground over the years. As its chorus presents, it’s the proverbial tale: a man in a woman’s life (could be several in her lifetime) that comes back and cuts open the scar of closure she worked so hard to heal on her own because he never gave it to her straight. Think of Leona Lewis’ “Bleeding Love” as a contemporary rendition of this. I don’t think you would ever hear a man singing ballads like these because women don’t usually weasel their way back into a man’s life — it’s more to be the other way around. “Yo yo love” is a form a passive love and I can sense our Lisa has BEEN on the receiving end of such confusion, a vapid soul tie…..
CLOSING THOUGHTS
This is what I would tell the last man in my life who broke me: I’m black and white. You’ve messed with the wrong girl if you think you just want a friendship out of my pain. There is no friend, nor is there ship — because that has sailed (just read my other blog tackling the already pesky nature of the male-female platonic friendships) For how long, I don’t know, but I couldn’t bare the pain of ever coming back to your dock. All this to say: you could have just admired me from afar. I’m sure, if you are a reader who’s gotten this far, would share my same sentiments……
