The truth shall set you both free.
A friend of mine came to town the other day.
He met somebody who he connected with right away. He was excited. He said he was even thinking of moving here.
He needed a change. He wanted desperately to get out of Chicago where he lives. He was tired of the winter. He was tired of everything. He came to LA full of hope and dreams.
He met a woman with big, black eyes. Her eyes were so big that she reminded me of the famous painter Big Eyes, Margaret Keane. I was with him when he met her. It was exciting. He looked at me and said, “I love it. I’m barely in LA and I’ve already met somebody really interesting.”
This is a high-quality man. This is a man who wants a relationship, a man who’s craving a
family. He’s successful. He’s moving to LA because he’s able to move his business wherever he goes.
He had a conversation with her, talked to her. He didn’t hit on her, didn’t come on to her or anything, he was just really interested in her and who she was as a person.
So he looked at her when he was about to leave and said, “Hey, let’s get together.” She said, “Great, here’s my number, please text me.” So he did. He texted her a few hours later, and said, “Really great meeting you. I was wondering if you want to have some dessert tonight if you’re around.” With a smiley face.
Then he heard nothing back. She never got back to him. He was pissed because he liked her. He was full of hope for LA, and immediately he was like ” Man, is it always like this here? I don’t want to live in a place where people give out their number and then end up getting blown off. That’s just brain damage.”
I looked at him and said, “Yeah, that’s the way things are.” He said, “Why do people do that?
You’re the dating guy, man. Why do people do that, because it’s so ridiculous.”
I said, “You know what? I have no idea why people do it. But I’m going to write something about it, and I’m going to tell people to stop.”
Why do you give out your number when you’re not interested?
I know it’s awkward to say no to somebody. I know it’s uncomfortable in that moment to look at somebody and say ,”I enjoyed talking to you, but I’ve got a boyfriend.” Or, “I enjoyed talking to you, but I’m just not feeling it.”
I know it might be awkward to tell the truth. God forbid we tell the truth. I mean, what a novel idea that we actually tell the truth in life. Wow, what a crazy concept, telling the truth. I know, that’s just ridiculous.
Why should we tell the truth? Why not lead somebody on and then they can text you a few hours a later? Then they can think about you and wonder why you haven’t texted back and have them create a whole story.
If this woman just told the truth and said, “I’m not interested,” then when we walked out of the store together he would have said, “Well, she’s not interested. At least I talked to her right? At least I talked to her and found out that she’s not interested, so I don’t have to think about her again.”
I honestly don’t get it. I don’t get why we have so much trouble telling the truth. Kids tell the truth all the time. Until they’re at least five, and then they learn the art of lying.
We’re so afraid to hurt someone’s feelings, but in reality, by not telling the truth we hurt someone’s feelings even more.
My friend thought this woman was high quality. She was girlfriend material. She was sweet. She was open. She was pretty. She seemed real. But she was just another liar. Another person afraid to speak her truth. Another woman who led a guy on.
And then you wonder why men don’t approach. Why should they? They’ve got a slew of women who have given their numbers and never called back. So eventually, men give up.
This is where it gets sad. Men give up, women get angry. Nobody is connecting, and everybody is sleeping alone at night, not having the love they desire.
Tell the truth. If you’re not interested, tell him you’re not interested. Tell him you have a boyfriend. Tell him you’re not dating right now. Say something so he doesn’t go through the torture of wondering why you didn’t text him back.
Originally Published on Your Tango