I'm a 34-year-old woman in a two-year relationship with a guy. I've never been the jealous type. Yet, I do feel oddly possessive and jealous in this relationship, especially lately. My friends say this a sign I need to "work on" myself. Really? If so, how? What do I need to do?
--Worried
"Hey, where's the boyfriend?" your friend asks as she plops down on the couch next to you. You look at your phone: "Well, according to my tracking device, he's at the end of Main, turning right onto Slauson."
Jealousy gets a bad rap. Sure, it's sometimes a sign that your self-worth is in the toilet. But it can also be a sign that your boyfriend has been sneaking off to the toilet at work with his boss's busty assistant.
Evolutionary psychologist David Buss notes that sexual jealousy appears to be one of the "mate guarding adaptations" that evolved over human history -- a sort of police dog of emotions to protect us from being cheated on. Buss observes that sexual jealousy is activated by "threats to mate retention," including "the presence of mate poachers" (rivals trying to lure your partner away), "cues to infidelity, or even subtle signals that suggest that a partner might be dissatisfied with the current relationship."
But there are signals, and then there are meaningful signals. A possibly helpful thing to recognize is that we have overprotective defense systems. "Defense expression is often excessive," observes psychiatrist and evolutionary psychologist Randolph Nesse. This isn't an accident or a design flaw. It's evolution saying, "Hey, hon, let's be on the safe side here."
Consider the smoke alarm that's a little oversensitive. This can be annoying when it screams for the hook and ladders whenever the neighbor lights incense next to her tub. But it's far less annoying than waking up to your toes being crisped by your flaming bedroom rug.
Figure out the source of your feelings so you can address it. Is there something amiss in your psychology that leads you to be overly sensitive -- to see a threat where it doesn't really exist -- or are you sensing some meaningful danger to your relationship? It's one thing to follow the person you love with your eyes as he walks off; it's another thing entirely to do it with a pair of high-powered binoculars and a bug sewn into his laptop bag.
My boyfriend and I have a TV ritual -- watching our favorite show together every week. Yesterday, I had a dinner meeting, and I asked him to wait to watch it with me, but he didn't. There's so much other stuff on TV. Did he really need to watch "our show"? He doesn't understand what the big deal is and told me to just watch the episode myself and get caught up. Grrr.
--Mad
So, your boyfriend's saying, "My darling...my love...you know your happiness means the world to me -- just not enough to masturbate and read a book for an evening."
To be fair, it probably seems like a TV show is just a TV show. What is the big deal if he watches ahead? But it turns out that context matters. This is a TV show you watch together -- or, as my boyfriend describes it, it's a "relationship show." That probably sounds romantic, but considering our shows are usually murder-centric, date night is basically "Come over at 7, and we'll have a nice dinner and watch six innocent people being gutted like hogs."
It turns out that the fictional social world couples share through their "relationship shows" can be important to their partnership. According to research by social psychologist Sarah Gomillion and her colleagues, it works like sharing a social network of real live friends and family members, fostering a "shared identity."
In fact, their research suggests that sharing a fictional social world "predicts greater relationship quality." This was especially true among couples who "reported sharing fewer mutual friends with partners." For those partners, "sharing media more frequently was associated with greater interdependence, closeness, and confidence in the relationship."
As for why you feel hurt, your boyfriend basically sent you the message, "I want to watch this show now more than I want to watch it with you." But look to how he is in general. Is he loving? Does he usually -- or at least often -- prioritize your happiness and well-being? If so, you can probably get him to mend his episode-straying ways, simply by explaining why your collective fictional friends are important to your relationship. This is likely to fire up his empathy -- or, at the very least, his dread of a brand-new recurring argument: "How can I ever trust you if you can't -- for a single evening -- resist the seductive nature of the balding, annoying Larry David?"
I'm sober, but my boyfriend smokes pot. I'm fine with that, but I don't want him smoking in the house. He says it's his house, too, so I'm not being fair. Plus, it is cold in the rural area where we live and rains a lot, so he'd have to put on a jacket, go on the porch, etc., to smoke. I get it, but I hate the smell, and I don't want to go to 12-step meetings smelling like weed. That's just not right. Help.
--Upset Girlfriend
Surprisingly, the road to respect and good standing in the 12-step world does not involve strolling into meetings smelling like you live in a one-bedroom bong.
Your taking care not to show up all "I just took a bath in Chanel No. 420!" at 12-step meetings -- lest you trigger any recovering potheads -- is what I call "empathy in action." I write in my science-based manners book, "Good Manners for Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck," that empathy -- caring about how your behavior affects others -- is "at the root of manners."
Rudeness, on the other hand, is the lack of consideration for what one's behavior does to another person. I explain it in the book as a form of theft -- theft of "valuable intangibles like people's attention (in the case of cell phone shouters who privatize public space as their own)." In this case, there's the theft of your reputation in a group that's an integral part of your life (and maybe even of your sobriety).
Somebody reading this might make the argument, "Ha, dummy -- wouldn't empathy involve her caring about how her 'no toking in the house' thing affects her boyfriend?" Well, yes. But generally speaking, the person whose behavior changes an environment -- in negative ways for others in it -- is the one who needs to bear the burden of whatever they're doing. (This is why considerate people have long asked others, "Mind if I smoke?" -- rather than expecting others to ask, "Mind if I breathe?")
And let's have a look at the level of "burden" here: Oh, boohoo, might your boyfriend sometimes have to put on a parka to smoke some weed? Put both arms into the sleeves and everything? You could try to fire up some empathy in Pol Pot-head by explaining that coming into 12-step meetings smelling like you just smoked a bowl is embarrassing on the level of strolling in swigging from a big bottle of Jim Beam. (Of course, it's also completely understandable to want to live in a place that doesn't reek of reefer.)
You might also consider whether his stubbornness on this points to a bigger issue -- a general lack of generosity and/or interest in your happiness. We are self-interested mofos, but when we love somebody, we'll often set aside our immediate self-interest and do what's best for them. And because we love them, it ultimately benefits us to benefit them. This is why you see people do extraordinary things for the ones they love: Give a kidney! Build the Taj Mahal! Move to the jungle for a year so they can do their anthro fieldwork! And then there's your boyfriend, all "Honey, you'll just need to stand outside a window and participate in your meeting from there: 'Hi, my name is Belinda, and I'm an alcoholic...who's about to be mauled by a bear.'"
I'm tired of being angry at my ex-boyfriend. My best friend suggested I write an email to him, saying everything I want to say, but send it to her instead. It seemed like a bad idea, delving into those feelings even more, but I did it anyway. Miraculously, I felt much better afterward. A fluke?
--Puzzled
I get it: You were all, "Write a letter he'll never read? Um, I wasn't dating Santa."
However, psychologist James Pennebaker finds that writing about upsetting events in our lives can act as a sort of mental crime scene cleanup -- in a way that simply thinking about these events or venting emotions does not.
Pennebaker theorizes that the process of organizing your thoughts to write them down coherently leads you to reinterpret and make sense out of what happened, thus diminishing the power of the events to keep upsetting you. Accordingly, Pennebaker's research suggests you could speed your healing by using what I'd call "explainer" words, such as "because" or "caused" -- as well as insight words (like "understand" and "realize").
The research also suggests it may help to do this writing thing more than once -- even repeatedly. So you might want to keep hammering out those emails about him as long as you continue to have, um, strong feelings about him -- like, say, the recurring idea that he should part his hair down the middle. Ideally with an ax.
I got ghosted -- dumped by a guy who just disappeared on me, no explanation -- after three months of lovey-dovey dating. Clearly, he isn't a great person, yet I'm unable to stop thinking about him and wondering why he left. How do I accept that it's over so I can start dating again?
--Plagued
It's hard on the ego to learn why somebody's leaving you, but it beats needing a Ouija board.
It's the mystery that's causing the problem. Typically, when rotten things happen to us, our feel-bad emotions (like anger and sadness) rise up -- driving us to take a wiser course of action the next time so we'll keep those bad feelings from popping by again: "Wassup? Got any beer?"
Knowing the wiser course starts with knowing what to avoid. But all you've got is a terrible itch -- the itch of uncertainty about why this guy vanished -- and little hope of yanking him in to give you answers: "Wanted/Reward -- ex-boyfriend who ghosted me, last seen on 3/11/2018 carrying the remains of my dignity in a green reusable bag."
However, you can probably dupe your mind into believing it has the answer. Research by cognitive neuroscientist Michael Gazzaniga suggests our mind is quick to create stories to fill in and make sense out of incomplete information -- and then we tend to go right ahead and believe our stories. To take advantage of this, imagine a possible reason the guy vamoosed on you -- and then just decide to accept it as THE reason.
What might also help is transforming your thoughts of the guy into a material object -- a piece of garbage, in fact -- and throwing it away. And yes, I get that this sounds absurd, but there's a growing area of social science research -- embodied cognition -- that finds taking action is a highly efficient way to change our feelings. Accordingly, social psychologist Pablo Brinol had research participants write a negative thought on a piece of paper and then rip the paper up and throw it into a nearby trash can. This actually led to participants "mentally disposing" of their disturbing thinking to a great degree.
Should the guy sneak back into your thoughts, don't worry; just widen the shot. Shift your focus from him to yourself -- looking at how you maybe crossed your fingers that you had a keeper instead of seeing whether that actually was the case. Understanding what you should do differently is the first step toward expanding the male companionship in your life -- amusing as it can be to spend your nights watching your current partner get loaded on catnip and try to make sweet love to your throw pillows.
I'm a 28-year-old woman who has been single for over five years. I'm steering clear of dating sites right now because of how so many guys portray themselves in ways that are very different from how they are in person. But then, in day-to-day life, when I smile at a guy I like, he'll usually smile back but he still won't come over and talk to me. Call me traditional, but I want a guy who has the courage to approach me. Guys are meant to do the pursuing.
--Unapproached
"Guys are meant to do the pursuing." Well, okay, but forgive the poor dears if they'd like some sign from you about what's likely to be in store for them if they hit on you -- a hot time in bed or years of painful skin grafts from a 300-degree pumpkin latte you throw in their face.
Oh, right -- you say you smile at the guys you like. Consider that from a guy's perspective: Maybe you were smiling at him -- or maybe at some CrossFit Adonis standing right behind him.
A single ambiguous signal isn't a reliable message -- that is, a reliably actionable message -- especially when there's risk involved in taking action. (In hitting on you, there's the possibility of public humiliation -- maybe even of the "Whoa, the YouTube video is going viral!" kind.) It also doesn't help that a smile requires very little investment from you -- in effort or risk.
Amotz Zahavi, an Israeli zoologist who studies signaling -- behavioral communication between individuals or critters -- points out that signals that are more "costly" to the sender are read as more trustworthy (and usually are). Your talking to a guy would be an example of a stronger indication of interest from you (than a mere smile) -- particularly if you initiate the conversation.
You send an even stronger message that you're interested by giving several signals at once. For example, you could touch a guy's arm while you're talking and make and hold eye contact (though just for a few seconds, not as if you're a serial killer trying to hypnotize him into climbing into your trunk).
You should also consider that men, more than ever, want to err on the side of seeing that their advances are wanted -- which is to say they're all terrified that they'll wake up one day and find their name tweeted with #MeToo. This surely affects their willingness to even ask women out.
I have written previously about how overt pursuit by a woman -- direct, explicit expressions of interest, like asking a guy out -- is a risky strategy, as it tends to lead men to subconsciously devalue her. (If she's chasing them instead of snubbing them like so many other women do, she must be desperate and/or have her sanity up on blocks in the front yard.)
However, it turns out that you can probably go really, really big in being flirtatious -- like way over what you're seriously sure is the top. This comes out of the fascinating psychological effect of "indirect speech" -- speech that implies what the speaker means rather than explicitly stating it.
The indirectness allows us an essential "out," according to psychologist and linguist Steven Pinker. Basically, as long as we can't be 100 percent certain of what a person really means -- as long as there's even 1 percent of uncertainty -- there's "plausible deniability." This allows us to just ignore something that would have been offensive if it had been said in a flat-out way.
So, for example, if something is said euphemistically -- a la the ol' "Wanna come up and see my etchings?" -- both parties can act as if it didn't mean what it pretty obviously does mean: something along the lines of "It's getting a little loud in here in Cafe Pretentious. Wanna go somewhere quiet and have sex?"
However -- realistically -- flirting big, on its own, may not be enough. There are men who will realize -- after you walk out of the drugstore or cafe and out of their lives forever -- that they should have asked you out. Put them in a position to have a second chance by going to the same place over and over -- like by showing up at the same coffeehouse every Saturday.
In doing this, you'll also get the benefit of observing men in a naturalistic habitat, allowing you to see potentially disturbing things about them that aren't evident online. This can end up being a lifesaving measure -- perhaps literally (in rare cases) and at least figuratively, when you discover that five minutes talking with a guy flies right by...like seven hours spent gagged and zip-tied to a chair.