Since I discovered the opposite gender in the seventh grade, I’ve seen quite the parade of ridiculous fellas. There was the one who couldn’t handle a long-distance relationship from Silver Spring to Bethesda, the one who turned out to be gay and the one whose only conversation skills were quoting lines from Napoleon Dynamite if I didn’t keep him otherwise occupied. There was the 18-year-old still attached to his teddy bear, the one who asked me if second base should be like “Honk-Honk”, the one whose immediate post-fooling-around response was “Let’s just keep this quiet” and the one who completely faked interest in my advocacy organization just so he could get my number.
But as Valentine’s Day draws near, and I think back on the Prince un-Charmings for whom I seem to have an open-door policy, my mind keeps returning to the time I was told by a mutual friend of a past hookup, “Listen, at first he wanted to see you again, but you were just too forward, and it turned him off.” I was not greatly surprised or heartbroken by this statement; I didn’t exactly expect a guy whose Halloween costume was “God’s gift to women” to be the great love of my life. But while this particular rendezvous has come and gone, this comment still nags me, because I am so shocked and offended to find that, even in college we are not done playing The Game. You know, that chock-full-o’-drama combination of analyzing, strategizing and communicating through the grapevine that we hope will land us either true love or a warm bed. “Let me wait three hours to send this Facebook message, so he doesn’t think I am sitting in front my computer waiting to hear from him,” or “Let me ignore her phone calls so she gets that I’m not interested,” and so on and so forth.
I think The Game is a waste of time, and I’m tired of being forced to play it. We’ve socially constructed this web of veiled communication and “playing hard-to-get” that draws out the process of dating and relationships into an agonizing tangle of nerves and mess of emotions. It has become socially unacceptable to skip all the fuss and be direct with our potential lovers/boyfriends/girlfriends. I, for one, would rather spend my time fighting global warming than wasting an hour trying to figure out what that party invitation he sent me “really” means, or bringing peace to the Middle East rather than laboriously constructing a text message so I seem interested but not “too” interested. High school has come and gone, folks! Why can’t we be brave enough to admit that last night was fun, but I’m not looking for more without the convoluted process of avoiding phone calls and eye contact? Or conversely, why is it still awkward or – horror of horrors – “too forward” to say flat out, “I like you, I want to see more of you” (figuratively or literally)?
On this topic, here’s one more thing: What the hell does it mean to be “too forward,” anyway? And why is it a turn-off? Apparently, any hint of sexual or romantic self-assurance is a strike against us ladies. The amount of self-confidence we exude is inversely proportionate to our sexiness and/or desirability. Not only are we compelled to play The Game, but we are also expected to do so based on ridiculously absurd and outdated gender roles. In the age of on-campus sex-toy parties and Carrie Bradshaw, why are women still expected to be a lady in the street and a freak in the bed?
According to the aforementioned friend, Mr. Don’t-Shoot-Me, I’m-Just-the- Messenger, The Game is unavoidable, and we all have to play it if we want to get some. I hope he’s wrong. I hope there are men and women out there who are not afraid of direct communication, especially when it comes from a strong female. I hope there are people who want to find what they are looking for, whether booty call or soul mate, without a million miles of pretense to wade through first.
Though it may be Hallmark-induced, there are tons of us who have love on the brain this week. All of the commercials will be telling us “This Valentine’s Day” do this or that. I think this Valentine’s Day, the best thing we can do in our search for a little lovin’ is to grow up a bit and quit playing The Game.
Now how’s that for “too forward?”
Rachel Bergstein is a junior peace and justice studies major.
