“We’re taught that in life, we should try to look on the bright side, to be optimistic. Not in this case. In this case, look on the dark side. Assume rejection first. Assume you’re the rule, not the exception.”
― Liz Tuccillo, He’s Just Not That Into You
It’s been romcom season in casa di Malinqa these past two weeks. It’s a foolproof and must-have break-up recipe that never fails to deliver. Almost as good as a great rebound. (Who am I kidding. Nothing beats a good rebound.)
Hyperromantic and happy-ending-assured movies are still fuckdamn awesome though.
However. For all my years of avidly watching anything with the romcom tag (because I’ve done enough of the breakups to merit these choices) – I had never managed to get around to seeing ‘He’s just not that into you’. Until it appeared on my Netflix last week.
And hit me smack-dab in the face with some romcom wisdom (which tends to be alot wiser than regular wisdom for the simple fact that it’s a whole lot more dramatic). It’s the type of wisdom that rings even more true when you’re in a certain mental space. Mindset. State of being. It’s a lot like country songs totally making ALL of the sense when you fall in (or out of) love. Romcoms are thoughtfodder for the broken heart-and-brain.
I CAN appreciate the core of the message of this movie:
That all of those people with the happy endings. The people with the one true loves. The people with the perfect matches?
They are the EXCEPTION. Not the rule.
(Aka, you’re not failing at life by being by your lonesome, nope. They’re just overachieving)
I CAN’T mold my beliefs to fit that knowledge. Insane. But true.
Now. I’ve always been kinda great at determining the ‘he’s not that into you’ kind of dudes. The schmucks. Commitment-phobes. Untruthful bastards and unreliable Andy’s.
I have a better douche-dar than gay-dar and have been mildly successful in weeding most of them out before they found their way in.
Plus: as a pessimist-to-the-core…looking on the dark side has always come SO naturally to me. I’ve never really hovered over phones. Never really cyberstalked someone in hopes of grabbing their attention. Never ‘casually’ walked by their favorite restaurant hoping to get spotted. I’ve always assumed guys AREN’T into me. And acted accordingly.
Detrimentally so. Even.
Especially since I HAVE always had this thing for the ‘out of my league’ types of dudes. Who, as it so happens, are VERY RARELY all that into you. And if they ARE for some magical reason still into you…you acting like you’re thinking that they’re not is SURE to make them run for the hills.
I fuck up being together with someone, for the simple fact that (even though I LIKE BEING ALONE) I act like being alone is the end on the world. Because the world has taught me that it is.
It’s because everyone tells us those ‘perfect’ lives ARE the rule.
But They aren’t. They really aren’t.
And assuming that they are puts us in that horrendous spot of vulnerability and desperation that is SURE to deter any real chance of being genuinely open to something or someone new because we’re forcing ourselves to fit a standard that is both unrealistic and unachievable FOR MOST. Being in a ‘societally-judged-as-not-perfect’ situation IS THE RULE THOUGH. Not those shiny lives we’re pelted with all the time. Those are the exception.
But nevertheless we still (or at least, I do) still act like we, the ‘unlucky ones’, are the exception. Instead of the rule. And in thinking this – fuck up any and all chances at becoming the exception.
Because if we’re TOO determined. TOO forced. TOO cramped and needy and clingy and and and JUST because we’re SO determined to get a hold of that societal view of ‘happy’ – all we’re really doing is making sure that they’re NOT going to be all that into you.
Because there’s so much truth in the saying ‘you’ll find what you need, when you stop looking so very hard’
I know this. I KNOW this.
But I can. not. stop. myself. from. looking.
Even though I healthily assume all of those ACTUAL potentially awesome peeps out there are just…not…that…into….me.
Even though I KNOW that I’m awesome on my lonesome.
Even though I believe that I don’t need to have a certain type of life to be the kind of happy that I’ve always aspired.
But I still want to be what we’re taught is the rule but is actually the exception.
Still act like I’m the exception, while I’m most definitely the rule.
And in doing so become exactly the type of scarecrow for potential happiness that this GODDAMN WAY TOO ACCURATE romcom warns us about.
Because as soon as they all stopped trying SO VERY HARD…everything just kinda fell into place.
Which might happen for me too. If I ever DID stop trying so VERY HARD.