I often use that phrase at work after describing to my boss what the issue in the proprietary fenestration software really was. On the surface it appeared to be a generic problem with door pricing, but it turned out to be something much more nuanced. While troubleshooting, I discovered a jamb was pulling the price of the next size down because I’d changed something in the dimension lookup table after adding an additional standard door height we didn’t used to sell.
The software I work with is complicated.
So are people, and none of us are as we seem on the surface.
I’m exceptionally good at reading people’s emotions and determining whether they’re being sincere or truthful. However, I’m confused by how they present themselves versus who they truly are. Equally mysterious to me is how people perceive me and why they think I’m stupid.
Consider dating profiles. Obviously most people put their best faces forward, and I can easily determine who is making an honest effort and who isn’t. The half-hearted attempt at dating is a profile with bathroom mirror selfies and car selfies with the seat belt and sunglasses on. The guy who only wants to get laid has selfies of himself shirtless, in bed. The ones who are making a concerted effort cover all the bases: at least one full body shot, at least one photo of him smiling, showing all of his teeth (so you know they’re there), and if he has pets, at least one photo of him and his pet(s) so you know he’s good with animals. If he wants to attract an outdoorsy, active woman, he posts photos of himself hiking, rock climbing, or kayaking. Then there’s the “I’ll provide for you” guy who posts the oft made fun of fish selfie. You can also tell how much of an effort he’s making by how thoroughly he fills out his profile.
That’s about the extent of it, though. Everything else is bullshit.
Take Runner In Salem. He had a nice profile, but I didn’t read between the lines. He said he has a Master’s degree in Mathematics. Translation: “I have a logical brain and no interpersonal skills or empathy.” He said running is a big part of his life: Translation: “I’ll never go on a road trip with you that doesn’t revolve around me and an ultra I’m running.” He said he was looking for someone he could be friends with first that might lead to more later. Translation: “I’ve only been divorced for four months.”
I’ve been honest on all of my profile iterations over the years, and the length of my profiles should be an indication of how verbose I am. That should be a dead giveaway right off the bat, but they inevitably complain that I have so much to say. Why can’t I simply sit still, look pretty, and speak only when spoken to, like a nice, good woman does?
My last profile was one giant rant about how awful online dating is and how shitty men are, so there wasn’t much personal information. I don’t see the point in putting much of anything of substance in a dating profile anymore, because there’s no one out there worth dating. At least 95% of OkCupid is men dating too soon after divorce or the end of a long-term relationship. The rest of them have been on there for nearly as long as I have, but haven’t updated their photos or profiles in years. Those are the low-effort ones.
When I do have a normal profile where I attempt to sum myself up in a few paragraphs and list my interests and hobbies, I get a lot of the same thing– messages from young men in their late 20s/early 30s wanting to hook up with an older woman, and conservative men (why?). I also get a lot of messages from men I have nothing in common with. It’s such a huge mismatch. At least when my profile is an off-the-cuff rant, I get messages from men who appreciate honesty. Oh, except the last one. He messaged me because he thought it was “hilarious,” so he wasn’t actually taking me seriously. I was merely a spectacle to him, not someone to be truly appreciated for who I am. Even if sex is all I’m looking for, as a human being, I still deserve some fucking respect.
I think no matter what I say on my profile, men simply don’t take me seriously and grossly underestimate my intelligence. I see a lot of profiles of men with Master’s degrees who are accomplished, but they lack general knowledge of the world around them and they lack interpersonal skills and empathy. They haven’t lived in the same way I have. I only have an Associates and a Bachelors, but I’ve lived an extremely full life. I didn’t go straight from high school to college and then to a desk job. I worked in customer service for 20 years. I know people. I love to get outside and go hiking and camping, and yes, I am an active person. However, I also read books and the news and listen to news podcasts and a lot of music, old and new. I watch nature documentaries and know a lot about a lot of things because I expose myself to so many different topics and perspectives.
But when men look at my photos, all they see is a pretty face (attractive women can’t possibly be smart, am I right?). They read the swearing and assume I’m unintelligent. If they do take the time to get to know me well enough to learn about my background, they assume I’m ignorant, poor white trash and broken. If they don’t take the time to get to know me and don’t know my background, they assume I haven’t lived and don’t know much. Either way, I can’t win. I’m either stupid because I’m poor white trash, or I’m stupid because they assume I haven’t lived as much as they have.
I mentioned to the last guy that I want to write a memoir, and he said, “I don’t know if you’ve lived enough to write a memoir.”
He was right; he didn’t know. After talking to me he learned he’d assumed incorrectly, but then he also assumed we were incompatible. Maybe he was right; maybe we are incompatible. But it’s not because we have different backgrounds or different personalities (he incorrectly labeled me an extrovert). We’re incompatible because I’m self-assured and confident, and he’s not.
Not all introverts are shy and not all extroverts are confident. I’m confident enough to approach a stranger and strike up a conversation. That’s not extroversion, that’s being friendly. Extroversion is enjoying being in groups and being energized by people. I do not enjoy being in large groups and after being around people I need to spend time alone to recharge.
https://positivepsychology.com/introversion-extroversion-spectrum/
The only reason I was so talkative with him was because I was excited to have met someone with so many of the same interests. I have a lot to share, and he seemed interested in hearing what I had to say.
He wasn’t.
Maybe we’re incompatible because I’ve dealt with my shit, unlike most single men out there in my age group. When a guy’s significant other leaves him after 6 years, 7 years, or 14 years… there’s going to be some damage. But they hop right onto the dating sites, as if nothing happened and everything is fine. Nothing is fine. They don’t consider why she left and what they can do better next time. They don’t do the difficult work and nothing changes. I’ve done the work.
Nothing is as it seems. The good looking, educated, successful, seemingly well put together man in the suburbs is a broken person with his priorities out of whack and a low self esteem. The brash, sometimes crass and slutty woman who cusses like a sailor and is covered in tattoos and has no fashion sense– she’s actually confident, well put together, has her priorities straight, and she’s smart.
So, on the subject of a memoir, I have decided to finally delve into that. Once again I’d like to try NaNoWriMo, but at the very least, want to try to get it finished by the end of this year. It’s tough because life keeps happening and I haven’t quite figured out where to start with it. Another reason is because I’ve assumed it’ll be painful to write. However, I think I’m finally at a point where it won’t dredge up any memories that will cause me pain. They no longer affect me because I’ve dealt with them, been through therapy, and they are all in the past. I’m in no way the malnourished, neglected, sad little girl I once was. I’m no longer afraid, no longer weak, and no longer the broken person I was in my 20s. All of that is history, and it’s time to finally write the book. I do have a starting point, but I want to put an outline together first. Even if I end up not writing it in chronological order, I want to at least have the events of my life listed in an outline so I don’t leave anything out.
I do have the tools I need. I have software for outlining (TreeLine) and for writing without distractions (FocusWriter) and for writing a book (Scrivener). Of course I’ll start with pen and paper, because that’s how I begin mapping everything out, even at work.
More to come on that…
P.S…
It has to be Covid. I’ve been sick for 10 days straight and I’m almost done with a course of antibiotics. The antibiotics are knocking the sinus infection out of my system, but an itchy dry cough and insanely sore throat persist. There’s no fever and no aches, and the sore throat is consistent with what’s being reported with the Omicron BA.5 infections. It feels like someone is shoving a bottle brush down my throat every night. I can’t sleep more than about three hours at a time. I get up in the middle of the night desperate for some ibuprofen and a popsicle. If it were strep the antibiotics would be helping, but they’re not; at least not with the throat. My sinuses feel a ton better, though. When I went to Fred Meyer they were out of throat lozenges and sprays and even popsicles were picked over. The case counts here, I think, are extremely under-counted. We need to go back to wearing masks indoors and probably working from home until we can all get vaccinated against these new strains that are evading antibodies from vaccines and previous infections. People who had BA.1 and BA.2 are getting infected with BA.5 within just a few weeks. A lot of tests are coming up negative, too. For those of us who are vaccinated and boosted, our viral loads are too low to test positive. I’ve also read that BA.5 resides in the throat, so nasal swabs are coming up negative. I’ve never had anything like this in my life, and I’ve had a lot of illnesses. It’s bizarre.