Why Are You Coaching Me to Lie?
“I have a boyfriend”, I lied.
I didn’t want to lie. I wanted to tell the truth- that I was aggressively single. But I couldn’t, because that would be an invitation.
So I lied.
As a child, I was told lying is bad. So why am I expected to do it now?
Why do these lies protect me? Shouldn’t the truth protect me?
After everything goes wrong, they ask why I didn’t make up an excuse; such that I have a boyfriend, that I’m on my period, or that I wasn’t feeling well. All lies.
With this coaching, aren’t they just saying the quiet part out loud? That my “no” isn’t enough as it is? That the man needs to be reasoned with, de-escalated, managed, in order for me to be safe?
What kind of messed up social system is this? One where we are expected to deceive in order to preserve ourselves.
I don’t want to be deceptive. I want to tell the truth.
But they punish me when I do.
My Truth Loses its Integrity When it Reaches His Ears
When I tell the truth, he contorts it to serve his ends, not mine.
“I’m single” becomes “I’m willing”.
Its integrity- in character and meaning- evaporates when it reaches his ears. The vibrations seemingly get distorted on the path from his ear to his brain. A process which I have no control over.
There is also another distortion that he insists on: two imaginary men.
Two Imaginary Men
When I tell him the truth that I have no man, it also lets him know that I haven’t been claimed; that there is no man who will get mad at him for what he is about to do.
My (False) Boyfriend
Even an imaginary man offers me protection.
How is that even possible?
This senseless, formless man’s imaginary existence matters more than I do.
So I can’t tell the truth.
His Imagined Sense of Self
I also can’t reject men outright. I can only politely deflect their advances. I have to protect his pride in order to protect myself.
Protecting the imaginary version of him in his mind takes precedence for both of us- over the truth and the real woman standing in front of him.
So two imaginary men in this scenario are more significant than I am.
Lying to Protect His Ego & Reputation (I Am the Problem)
These lies are all designed to let him down gently. They tell him that the problem is always me, never him.
But that just kicks the can down the road and enlarges his ego.
He begins to believe that if women don’t want to sleep with him, it is always their fault. Never his.
She is unsure, limited, lacks energy or initiative.
It is never that he is ugly, gross, uncouth, makes her feel uncomfortable or unheard, or that she is scared, not aroused.
The man in his mind grows with each polite encounter. So does his false hope.
You Force Me to Give Him False Hope, Then Blame Me For It
Each of these excuses- where my body, emotions, and circumstances are the problem- suggest there is a tomorrow where my answer will be yes.
They pave the road for future encounters- that will, once again, be my fault.
They will be catalogued as proof that I “led him on”. I left the door open a crack; I didn’t slam it shut in his face, like you only now suggest that I should’ve done.
I apparently should have eviscerated any shred of hope, like stamping out a fire. But I am not allowed to tread on this man’s sense of self, remember?
The man in his head grows even larger.
The strategy that you taught me to survive now gets thrown in my face.
I lose if I play along. I lose if I defect.
“You Were Unclear- Therefore it Was Simply a Misunderstanding”
Gentleness and false hope mushroom into ambiguity. They create an ever-expanding grey zone that is intentionally engineered.
“Of course he misunderstood you”, they say. I was too evasive and subtle.
Only now am I told I should have been honest and firm.
Blunt “no’s” aren’t allowed. And “no’s” said softly become void.
I can never get it right.
However, I always seem to get it right around the good ones: the men who respect my “no” in whatever form.
And I always seem to get it wrong for the men who don’t respect it regardless of how I say it. There is always something that I should’ve done differently, but this condition always changes. The goalpost moves constantly; but I am tired of chasing it.
I Didn’t Change My Mind
So now my gentleness turned to boldness and my subtlety turned to clarity are reinterpreted as flip-flopping. Yet another fault of mine.
The man in his head grows larger.
I will be judged for “being willing in the moment, then later changing my mind”.
But I wanted to be clear from the start.
So this change of spirit is theirs, not mine.
They moved the goal posts, then judged my change of direction. But in both circumstances my goal was the same. I was just aiming for a target that they keep deliberately moving.
Messy Bun Book Lover