More Precious Than Rubies

Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand; and in her left hand riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.
-- The Christian Bible, Proverbs 3:15.

On the dates I've had during the Metal Ox lulls, I've almost always come away with the impression that men my age seem to think that women my age, for whatever reason (ennui? desperation? apathy?) are all cool with getting jiggy wit it on the first date. Or at least that we are so crying out for touch – or something! what? – that laying hands upon us is just as welcome and inconsequential as, say, a smile. Why is this?

Example: yesterday I had what I thought was a harmless engagement with a man to walk through the Botanical Gardens. He seemed like a nice person. Clean, educated, professional, attractive enough. Well spoken. As we were walking, a few times he laid his hand on my back in that sort of guiding way that can be comforting if a man one is truly with does it, but that, frankly, for me, is a bit of an invasion from someone I have met five seconds ago. I didn’t much like it, but it’s a common enough social gesture that I didn’t think it necessary to say anything. Perhaps I should have. Half an hour into the walk we were standing among a scattered group of people, looking out over the lotus pond, when he slipped his hand very lightly across the back of my neck, then sort of left it there, buried in my hair.

Now, call me picky, but this felt to me like quite an intimate physical gesture. The touch, as I said, was light, too sensual in its intention, and far too familiar. It gave me the creeps.

A chill went down my spine. My hackles went up. Bad vibe. I wanted to leap into the loti, but I was frozen. I blurted out, softly, "Please don't do that. I don't know you well enough." He apologized and took his hand away. I tried to give him a chance after that, and even went to lunch with him, but it was no use. I continued to feel creeped out. When I got home I saged off. It was icky.

What would make this man, a stranger, think that he could touch me this way? Seriously? It was the first time we’d met, it being a blind date, and no conclusions had been drawn or enunciated in any way. What, I wonder, did he have to assume in order to feel that I would welcome him touching me in any way, much less this stroking of my neck? When I go to the community garden, men don’t touch me that way. At the neighborhood socials, men don’t touch me that way. Even if I’ve met someone several times and they are flirting with me, they just don’t touch me that way. I don't give off any vibe that says it's ok to touch me, as a rule (the exceptions being when I am in a relationship, 'cause then I really like to cuddle and hold hands and stuff ; and I would certainly cuddle my kids if they'd ever let me, which they don't any more of course, though sometimes Molly and I will cuddle a little bit which is really nice). Even my women friends sort of give me a look to see if it's ok before they give me a hug. It's just the way I am. I have to filter energies, because I feel them pretty intently. And if I don't know someone, then I don't know about their energy. I may or may not want it to mingle with mine. Energies, see, are as potentially life giving or life threatening as body fluids. And anyway, even if I weren't that way, there are certain modes of touch that just aren't what one does with an acquaintance. Placing one's hand sensually/possessively on the back of another's neck is in one of those modes of touch. Points being, first, there's either a social disconnect there or the guy runs with a way faster crowd than I'm into, and, again, I know for sure I was giving off no touch me signals. I've spent years training to be aware and in control of my energies.

But why do so many of these guys that I've met at Eharmony behave this way (OK, I've only been out with five, but only one of them was not icky this way)? My kids say it's because guys that are looking for a woman online are a priori desperate guys. Can that be true? Maybe I should give that consideration. Lunging at a woman right off that way does definitely have an air of desperation to it. And opportunism.

And maybe these guys are used to those desperate, jaded, I've-given-up-so-what-the-hell women. Could be.

Even so, I thought eharmony was supposed to be the refuge for those persons who aren’t looking to get laid right off the bat. Maybe I’m wrong. But that’s what I thought. If I'd wanted those kinds of men I’d have gone to match.com or lavalife. Ick fest! At any rate, on the off chance that the online thing does spawn these desperate-ados, I think I'll hang it up for a while. I have no desire to try to sate my need for love by engaging in soulless or soul-killing adolescent acts of farce with lonely baby-men. Sorry, Charlie! I can get higher quality "love" just doing yoga or sitting on my fire escape watching the squirrels play. More true intimacy picking basil from my garden, making a divine pesto, and feeding it to my friends and family.

All I know is, if I'm going to give a guy a second date then he needs to behave like a gentleman on the first.

P.S. And I don’t want to hear any “oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it” or “you really should give these men a fighting chance” crap, either. Women, when we hear one another iterate creepy feelings about situations, should validate one another, period. Trusting our instincts is what saves our lives and our psyches. Not trusting them is what gets us in trouble. If I had not second guessed some of my early impressions of Metal Ox, for instance, I would not have spent all those years being emotionally battered and betrayed by him. This need to trust the body’s knowledge goes double for everything having to do with touch. A person’s touch is the movement of their energy into one’s own energy, it’s their calling card. If an alarm goes off, either that person is out of line or the touchee is grokking some energy that is not – in whatever way – good for that touchee. If a touch feels bad, it needs to stop. This sounds like something one tells children, but that’s only because it’s that elementary. And any “Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way,” or “I’m just being silly” or “What a bitch I am” shooting through our minds after an initial response of “Ick!” or “Don’t do that!” is our cultural conditioning to disregard our intuition. And who gains from that? Who loses?

Here’s another thing that occurred to me: any guy worth half his salt would have felt my body stiffening up the first time he laid his hand on my back! Did Mr. MoBot not even try to tune in to whether or not it was ok to touch me? I did finally speak up, and perhaps I should have after the first unwelcome grope, but I doubt the man’s sensitivity to others – especially on matters involving touch – if he didn’t note at all I wasn’t digging his grab-handing. And keep in mind, some men get off on invading a woman.

Really, though, it’s not that this event was particularly traumatic. It's life being life. It’s a blip on certain screens of self. It's illuminating. But it’s a blip worth talking about, for me, because (1) it was not the first time, but it was the time that made me feel fed up; (2) as itself and as analogy for other invasive and insensitive action and assumption on the part of humans toward and regarding other humans, it’s illustrative; (3) I’m proud of myself for speaking up to the guy; and (4) I feel good saying it out loud: I don’t want guys I don’t know touching me! Stop it! Now! Be gentlemen, you insensitive clods, or remove yourselves from my presence! I am not here for your entertainment, for Christ’s sake, OK? At least not until I freaking know you.