The other day, when I was coming back from having lunch with my housemates, I almost got run over by a car driven by "somebody that I used to know".... that just as the lyrics on the Gotye song:
She cut me off, make out like it never happened and that we were nothing... and I don't even need her love, but she treats me like a stranger and that feels so rough...
Sometimes making a clean break with someone for whom you had feelings but know that it is not going to go anywhere, is the best thing that you can do.
After my accident in Canada, I'm usually very cautious when crossing the street. I still get a mild rapid heartbeat when I'm crossing and I see a car approaching, even if it is clear that they have seen me and they are slowing down. However, I believe that facing your fears is the only way to rewire your brain after a traumatic experience, and therefore, I still cross the street as usual, ignoring every time my deep and repressed fear of being hit again.
This time, when I heard the car approaching, I had an automatic reaction and my foot stopped before stepping into the road and I freeze. It was a shining grey convertible Peugeot 207, that for a second slowed down after the turn. She probably saw that there was someone with the intention to cross the road and was going to gently give way to the pedestrian, but as soon as she recognized me, she step on the gas and run off.
As she was passing by, she briefly checked me out but turned her head again quickly so she wouldn't have to greet me.
According to
Eric Berne, ignoring someone's presence is the worst treatment that you can give or receive. It is even worse than being frowned at or being looked down on (examples of negative strokes) as at least this negative interaction means that the other person is acknowledging your existence, but the ignoring treatment leaves a feeling of nonexistence to the other person that can be very damaging for its self-stem and confidence.
In any case, I'm not particularly sad that we broke contact, however, I would be happy to keep nodding at her if we bump into each other on campus. Anyway, this story is part of my offline lesbian dating stories, but since we had a brief and potentially dangerous encounter with her last week, I thought that it will make sense to write about it today.
It all began in a welcome meeting organized by the Doctoral School, it was the first time I started my PhD in 2012 (yes, I have started my PhD twice now, but that is another story....) and I had just moved back to Brighton and I didn't know many people. So, I forced myself to attend all of the welcome events that I got invited to, hoping that I could make some new friends and start my social network in Brighton again.
When I entered the room, everyone was already chatting in groups and I was on my own and didn't know anyone, so I approached a tall eccentric gay-looking guy aiming to kill two birds with one stone: make a friend and meet gay people. As soon as I approached him and introduced myself, I saw a short blond lesbian-looking girl that was behind him. I immediately got from her the gay vibe not just due to her flannel shirt, but because she had some butchy manners and very lesbian body language. However, I could see how she was trying to make an effort to hide her masculinity with a very deep layer of foundation makeup and a thick lumpy mascara and a perfectly done French manicure.
I didn't like her at first sight, but she was the kind of person who looks deeply into other people's eyes and follows all the hidden rules of a perfect social interaction: she practices active listening and seems to know how to encourage other people to talk about themselves.
I could see how the tall gay guy was delighted with her treatment and kept on talking about himself. He was really enjoying his own conversation only briefly interrupted by me or the lesbian-looking girl with more reinforcement so he could keep on talking about himself a bit more.
When the event finished, we were invited to continue the evening in
Falmer bar (the Student's Union bar) and so we made our way there. The tall eccentric gay men didn't join us, but the girl and I went to the bar.
For an hour or so we talk. I tried my best to not just talk about myself but put into practice the same social techniques that she was using with me, so we had a bit of a tennis match of active listening and polite compliments.
She told me that she was originally from South Africa, but had moved to South London when she was 2 years old. I could feel her South London chavy influence in the way she was dressed and the way she spoke.
However, she seemed quite cultivated in English literature and explained to me that she was starting a PhD on the influence of Judaism and the old testament on English medieval literature. She also told me that she was Jewish and that she was very excited about analyzing the Bible for her PhD.
As the conversation developed, she discretely asked me about my "relationship status" and therefore indirectly about my sexual preferences to which I reply that I was single and left the rest to an open interpretation. At that time I guess that I was still a bit uncomfortable about displaying my sexuality to someone that I'd just met.
These days I'm more straightforward, I only want to make friends that are comfortable with my sexuality and if they have any kind of problem, is better to know it soon rather than later. Anyway, I didn't tell her that I was gay, however, I didn't say that I was straight either.
I could sense that she liked me as we talked intensively for an hour or more and I even thought at some point that she was coming into me, but I thought that it was possibly the effect of the beer and that perhaps she was just being extremely friendly. However, as we were about to leave, she vaguely mentioned that she was living with his boyfriend, later I would discover that his boyfriend was paying for her PhD and living expenses.
In any case, we exchanged phone numbers and agreed to have lunch on campus the week after, we were both new in Brighton and didn't know many people after all.
As a part of the event, we were asked to write on the glass a sentence about what we were going to do in the first year of our PhD. I wrote "Not Panic!" and she wrote: "Find OUT what my thesis is actually about".
We went for lunch a few times on campus and I had the feeling that she liked me, but I didn't do or say anything since she had a boyfriend. I got the impression that she was a repressed lesbian, but either due to her religious beliefs or her accommodated life with her boyfriend, she was not out.
After a few lunch dates and several intellectual conversations, we became close friends. She was sending me messages on WhatsApp almost every day wishing me a good day and good luck with my work and I didn't know how to interpret them. Perhaps it was just that we were both new in town and we both needed to find some sort of connection to feel more secure and welcome in Brighton. Moreover, I was having a tough time with my PhD due to the fact that only a few months after I started, both of my supervisors left the university, hence, I was having a very stressful time and she was taking the time to listen to me and guide me in my unstable career situation.
After all, only a few months before I had an amazing job as a Marketing Manager for a high-tech company and I was living on my own in a newly refurnished flat in the city, with a shining bathroom all for myself and a very comfortable double bed. I changed all to go back to being a student, living in a room with a single bed in a shared flat and sharing a bathroom and kitchen with 5 more students.... one of whom was very crazy and scary, but that is another story.
Anyway, I was starting to question my decision... however, I had on my head
Steve Jobs's words:
“Sometimes life's going to hit you in the head with a brick. Don't lose
faith. [...] Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way
to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the
only way to do great work is to love what you do”. I knew that I love learning and knowledge and therefore, I was following my passion... even if I was just being hit with a brick.
To be continued...
