I'm a single dude in my 30s, and I really want a girlfriend, but I keep striking out with women. My female co-worker says that if I want a relationship, I need to upgrade my shoes. I wear a pair of super-comfy New Balance sneakers that I've had since college...yes, even wearing them on dates. In the summer, I wear Crocs sandals. What's the problem? Are girls really that shallow?
--Footloose
Sadly, the CDC has been remiss in informing men of the exceptional protection against sexually transmitted diseases that open-toe shoes can provide.
Men's shoes speak to women. They are a form of what anthropologists and zoologists call "signaling" -- communication between organisms. In the mating realm, signals advertise quality in a potential partner -- or sound the alarm when it's lacking. Wearing bad shoes (like your stanky, hobo-ready sneakers) suggests you lack the social intelligence to dress like a grown-up and/or the interest in taking care of more than your own needs -- like for the five basic bachelor-dude food groups: beer, Hot Pockets, pizza, Doritos, and pot edibles.
Evolutionary psychologist Geoffrey Miller surveyed women -- straight single American women, ages 20-35 -- on what they like and loathe in footwear on a potential partner. The women were asked to imagine going on a casual lunch date with guys wearing 32 different types of men's shoes, from Birkenstocks to chukkas to leather Oxfords.
Women's preferences were "strong" and "consistent" and point to the following advice: Wear leather shoes -- nice leather shoes, like Oxfords or loafers -- that cover your feet. (Women hated every single sandal, from Crocs to Birkenstocks to flip-flops.) Your shoes don't have to be expensive. You can probably do just fine with a stylish loafer you get on sale for $50. (Passable sneakers, scoring okay but not so well as the leather shoes, were the classics: Vans and Converse All Stars.)
Finally, it isn't enough to just buy the right shoes; you have to take care of them. (Another important detail that ladies notice.) Learn how to polish and clean them. Take them to a shoemaker for resoling and other upkeep. These might seem like little things but they are actually part of a whole of living like a man instead of a manchild. Admittedly, living the man way isn't "super-comfy," but consider where your priorities lie: more in the realm of Dr. Scholl or Dr. Kinsey?
I'm in love with my male best friend and unfortunately, I'm pretty sure he's never been attracted to me. This is very painful, and trying to stop thinking about him so much isn't working. To be fair, he isn't emotionally available right now, as he's still mourning his divorce (a little too long for it to be healthy, I think). I'm thinking that if I stay close and stay available, he may pick me once he becomes emotionally ready again. Is that crazy? I really want a relationship and am willing to wait for him.
--Tormented
Nothing says "your welfare means the world to me" like clocking a man's mourning with a stopwatch.
Beyond how the guy isn't up for a relationship right now, you seem pretty sure that you're just the girl next door to the girls in his wank bank. So mooning over him is not the road to a relationship but the equivalent of trying to get from New York to California by doing endless doughnuts in a Walmart parking lot.
If unrequited love isn't the point -- offering you protection from heartbreak and distraction from pursuing a guy who's a real possibility -- you need to disengage. But the answer isn't trying to stop thinking about him. Thought suppression actually seems to backfire. For example, social psychologist Jennifer L.S. Borton found that asking research participants to suppress a specific thought led to their experiencing it "more frequently" and led to "a more anxious and depressed mood."
Because of this, when you have a thought of the guy, don't try to shove it away. Instead, shift how you think of him. Focus on how he isn't emotionally available and then on how he probably never will be for you. Next, take action. You could opt for a thought-occupying distraction like watching a movie -- or, better yet, make an effort to shift your circumstances by going on dating sites to look for men who might be possibilities for you. This ultimately allows you to be there for this guy as a friend, offering him a Kleenex to dry his tears -- as opposed to mentioning that you happen to be wearing a very soft and super-absorbent pushup bra.
I'm a 33-year-old woman, and I've always been thin. I lost about 12 pounds after a tough breakup. I'm working on getting back to a healthier weight. However, people keep making cutting remarks about how thin I look. Yesterday a friend said, "You're so skinny it's gross!" I'd noticed that she'd gained quite a bit of weight, but I didn't say anything...because that would be rude! She made other digs about my weight, and upon hugging me goodbye, she said, "Eww, is that your shoulder bone?!" What's with this double standard? There'd be hell to pay if I said the slightest thing about anyone's weight gain.
--Tempted To Lash Back
It is more taboo than ever to make cracks about a woman's weight -- that is, unless she doesn't have a whole lot of it. Then it's open season: "Wow, what happened to you? Forget where the supermarket is?"
However, it probably is not "people" but "people who are female" who are thin-shaming you. Welcome to female intrasexual competition -- competition between women -- which is covert and sneaky (and thus poisonous) in a way male-on-male competition is not. Men, who evolved to be the warriors and protectors of the species, tend to be openly aggressive. A guy will give another guy a beat-down or publicly dis him: "Yeah, bro, sure you can get a chick to go home with you -- if you've got five grand for a sex robot."
Psychologist Tracy Vaillancourt explains that women seem to have evolved to avoid physical confrontations (and in-your-face verbal attacks that can lead to them), which jeopardize a woman's ability to have children or fulfill her function as an infant's principal caregiver and meal provider. Women instead engage in "indirect aggression" to "reduce the mate value of a rival," like by "disparaging the competitor's appearance ... or using derisive body and facial gestures to make the rival feel badly about herself and thus less willing to compete." (Yeah, that's right. It seems "Mean Girls" was a documentary.)
The tricky thing about these indirect attacks is the plausible deniability they confer. Call a woman out for thin-shaming you and she's likely to duck behind "I'm just worried about your health!" So instead, simply tell her that remarks about your weight hurt your feelings. Speaking up like this says that you aren't likely to let any future digs slide, yet you remain on moral high ground -- instead of giving back in kind: "Wow, looks like you've been exercising a lot. Do you do the backstroke in frosting?"
I'm a married gay man, and I hate my in-laws. They were disgustingly abusive to my husband when he was a child. They're in failing health now, and it's important to him to visit them a couple of times a year. How do I get through these mandatory trips?
--Dreading It
It's probably tempting to buy his family the sort of classic furniture you think they deserve. Unfortunately, they only ship that model of chair to prisons with a death row.
There is actually opportunity within this biannual awfulness you two have to go through. In the movies, people show their love through grand gestures: "We'll always have Paris!" In real life, according to psychologist John Gottman's research, the strongest, happiest relationships are made up of constant mundane little loving interactions: "You were so sweet to me in Costco."
Gottman finds that the key determinant in whether a relationship succeeds or fails is the ability to trust one's partner. This means not just trusting that they won't cheat but trusting that they'll continually make you and your needs a priority, on a moment-by-moment basis. For example, as Gottman puts it: "Can I trust you to be there and listen to me when I'm upset? ... To choose me over your mother, over your friends? ... To help with things in the house? To really be involved with our children?"
So, though you can't undo the past, when you're on one of these visits, you can shift your focus from hating your in-laws to showing your love for your husband. Listen. Tell him, "I know this is really hard for you." Hug him. Rub his feet. Once you're out of the inlaw inferno, you might discuss trying to make a habit of this sort of thing -- really being present for each other in the numerous "unimportant" moments of life.
This will keep you from being one of those couples frantically trying to plug gaping holes in their relationship with extravagant gestures. Typically, these are ultimately futile -- too little, too late -- and tend to not come off as planned. For example, if you're having 150 doves released over you as you renew your vows, you'd better see that they're all wearing tiny gold lamé diapers.
After six years of hard work, I'm starting to have some success in my career. Disturbingly, my best friend seems envious. I'll tell her some exciting news, and she'll barely respond. I understand that she's trying to break through while working a menial job, but my other friends are really supportive and happy for me. She claims she is, too, but her behavior says otherwise. It really hurts my feelings.
--Disappointed
We often do crazy things simply to keep up with our peers who are doing those things -- not, say, because we were bored on a Saturday afternoon and had a little brainstorm: "I know! I'll pay some total stranger $55 to spread molten wax on my labia and rip out all my pubic hair!"
We evolved to be creatures of "social comparison" -- judging how well we're doing personally and professionally by how we stack up to others. As I often explain, our emotions are not just for mental decoration; they're motivational tools. When we're lagging behind our peers, envy often rises up -- as it seems to be in your friend. Envy is mistakenly assumed to be ugly and shameful, but evolutionary social psychologist Bram Buunk and his colleagues explain that the feelbad we get from envy pushes us to get on the stick and narrow the "status gap" between ourselves and others.
Understanding the underpinnings of envy can help you have compassion for your friend, which might help you avoid taking it personally when she fails to celebrate your achievements by pulling out confetti and a kazoo. Try to accept that she probably can't express the excitement you'd like her to because every success you rack up sneers, "Hey, loser! How come she's up there and you're down here?"
If you do tell her about some win, consider pairing the news with mention of the years of grubby work and daily failures that went into it. This might help her view the success you've achieved as something attainable -- as opposed to some magical gift: "OMG, I was just sitting on my porch drinking a beer, when my boss called and said, 'You often cut work and smoke a lot of pot. Let's give you the VP job.'"
I was roommates with a girl five years ago. I was a spoiled brat for many years, but I've worked very hard to change. She, on the other hand, is still supported by her father, has no job or interests, and just wants to get married. Whenever she calls, she wants advice on the same boy drama. I just don't have the time or patience for this anymore. I tried not responding to her, but she keeps calling and texting, "I need to come over right now!"
--Drama-Weary
"I need to come over right now!" What are you, a day spa for her emotions crossed with the Burger King drive-thru?
It's easy to confuse the chunk of time a friend has been in your life with reason for them to continue being there. It helps to unpack the mystique about how friendships form. Social science research finds that a major driver of friendship is similarity -- shared values and attitudes, for example. But demographic similarity is part of it, too -- like both being 30-year-old single female zoo workers who went to a crappy college.
And though we want to believe we carefully choose the friends in our lives, personality psychologist Mitja Back and his colleagues are among the researchers who've found that "mere proximity" seems to play a big role in who our friends are. This means, for example, living in the apartment next door, working in the same department, or, in Back's study, being randomly assigned to "neighboring seats" in a college class. In other words, you probably became friends with this woman because she was sleeping in the next room, not because you conducted a nationwide search for the best possible buddy for you.
Now's the time to choose whether she stays in your life -- and you don't do that by hoping she'll hear your vigorous eye-rolling over the phone and take the hint. Breaking up with a friend -- if that's what you want to do -- should work like breaking up with a romantic partner. Don't just wordlessly cut off contact; that's cruel -- and likely to backfire. Tell her that you need to end the friendship, explaining the problem in broad terms: You've "grown apart" or you're "in different places" in your lives. Even if she presses you, keep it kind by keeping it vague. The point is telling her it's over, not informing her that she's got all the emotional depth of a goldfish and then ducking out forever via call waiting: "Sorry -- gotta go. Important robocall from Rachel from Card Services on the other line!"
I recently had my addiction recovery memoir published. I'm very honest and vulnerable in it, and readers feel super-connected to me because of it. Most just briefly thank me for how it changed their life, etc. However, a few have really latched on to me via social media. I respond to their first message, and then they write back with pretty much a whole novel and message me constantly. I don't want to be mean, but this is time-consuming and draining.
--Unprepared
Not to worry...that fan won't be stalking you forever -- that is, if you'll just sign the medical release she's had drawn up for the two of you to get surgically conjoined.
In writing your book, you probably wanted to help others get the monkey off their back -- not point them to the open space on yours so they could line up to take its place. The interaction these fans have with you is a "parasocial" relationship, a psych term describing a strong one-sided emotional bond a person develops with a fictional character, celebrity, or media figure.
These people aren't crazy; they know, for example, that Jimmy Kimmel isn't their actual "bro." But we're driven by psychological adaptations that are sometimes poorly matched with our modern world, as they evolved to solve mating and survival problems in an ancestral (hunter-gatherer) environment.
Though it still pays for us to try to get close to high-status people -- so we might learn the ropes, get status by association, and get some trickle-down benefits -- the adaptation pushing us to do this evolved when we gathered around fires, not flat-screens. This makes our poor little Stone Age minds ill-equipped to differentiate between people we know and people we know from books, movies, and TV.
Psychologist David C. Giles and others who study parasocial relationships were used to these interactions remaining one-sided, as until recently, it was challenging to even find a celeb's agent's mailing address to send them a letter (which might only be seen by some assistant to their agent's assistant). However, as you've experienced, that's changed thanks to social media, which is to say, Beyonce's on Twitter.
But the fact that you can be reached doesn't mean you owe anyone your time. As soon as you see someone trying to hop the fence from fan to friend, write something brief but kind, such as: "It means a lot to me that you connected with my book. However, I'm swamped with writing deadlines, so I can't carry on an email exchange, much as I'd like to. Hope you understand!"
This message establishes a boundary, but without violating your fan's dignity. Dignity, explains international conflict resolution specialist Donna Hicks, is an "internal state of peace" a person feels when they're treated as if they have value and their feelings matter. Preserving a person's dignity can actually make the difference between their hating you and their accepting your need to have a life -- beyond waiting around to respond to their next 8,000-word email on their dating history, their medication allergies, and their special relationship with cheese.
I'm a single woman in my mid-30s, and I can't cook. I'm also not interested in learning. My parents are old-school, and this worries them. They keep telling me that "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Is that really still true?
--Takeout Queen
A man does not stay with a mean woman simply because she makes a mean pot roast: "Yeah, bro, I was all ready to leave her, but then my stomach chained itself to the kitchen table."
However, what matters for a lot of men is that you're loving as you pry the plastic lid off their dinner. Being loving is not just a state of mind; it is something you do -- a habit of being responsive to what marriage researcher John Gottman calls "bids" from your partner for your attention, affection, or support.
Being responsive involves listening to and engaging with your partner, even in the mundane little moments of life. So when your man grumbles that his hairline is retreating like the Germans at Kursk, you say something sweet or even funny back -- as opposed to treating his remark like background noise or snarling something about being late to work.
Sure, some men will find it a deal breaker that you don't cook -- same as some will find it a deal breaker if you aren't up for raising children or llamas. But even a cursory familiarity with male anatomy suggests there are a number of ways to a man's heart, from the obvious -- a surgical saw through the sternum -- to a more indirect but far more popular route: showing him you can tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue.







