Since I wrote Douchebag Dilemma much has become clear.
I freely admit that I was feeling, as my girl Cynthia would
put it, a bit salty.
After fielding the question of Dane (see comment here - just scroll down to bottom of post) I was moved to consider how I could find my gratitude for the douchebags
in my life.
And wouldn’t you know it, the Universe delivered.
A few weeks ago I was in San Francisco, wondering how I was
going to make my way Home to Portland, OR, when lo-and-behold who should appear
on Craigslist rideshare with an offer to do just that but Douchebag #2!
Yeah.
Funny.
So, did I take it?
You better believe I did.
Did I end up shouldering more than my share of the
responsibilities – driving, gas and snacks?
Did I find myself asking the forgiveness of several strangers
for his clueless behavior?
Did I find myself enforcing the three foot rule with him,
over and over and over?
When the ride was over did I breathe a long, deep sigh of
relief?
Yes, yes, yes and yes.
Before you roll your eyes in disgust at my potential stupidity we must ask the most revealing question of all.
Did I manage to exorcise my douche baggage once and for all?
Hell yes.
Just after the road trip 8 hour mark the clouds of confusion parted.
It appears that I have had a penchant for a particular type
of douchebag, The Knight-in-Shining-Armor Douchebag.
They offer to rescue and next thing I know I start
imagining that I need to be rescued.
Suddenly I reduce my many faceted self to the flatly typical damsel in distress.
I remember the first time I was aware that this was
happening.
I had this Volvo wagon. Had it from my junior year in high
school through my (deeply troubling to the car as neither of us were treated
very well) marriage.
 |
| There I am! Just kidding, I don't know who that is |
One single gal day years later it had nearly had enough and wouldn’t
start after being parked on a quiet Seattle street.
I was broke and had no idea how I was going to take care of
this increasingly difficult possession.
I figured out through doing some reading with the hood up that
my spark plugs may be the culprits. Having never changed one I was feeling a bit in
over my head.
This I revealed to some random guy I met at a party around
that time. He claimed that ‘he knew a thing or two about engines’ and that he’d
be happy to work on it for me.
I bought some new spark plugs and made a date to have him come
check it out.
I can say that after 5 minutes of him fumbling around under
that hood and chatting me up it became obvious he knew jack shit about working on an engine.
After 30 minutes of this sad sight I let him know that I was
busy and would have to be going soon.
I came back an hour later, did the job myself and drove
away.
He was pissed, I was annoyed.
Apparently he was hoping that I would find his offer to help
endearing and attractive, even if he couldn’t actually deliver.
Apparently I couldn’t believe he would offer to do something
for me that he couldn’t actually do in an effort to get closer to me.
One thing I now realize is that the only one who got what
they wanted in the deal was me.
All it cost me was the time I could have saved believing in
myself and taking the risk. I was 100% to blame for the entire depressingly
pathetic interaction.
And this is where I can have gratitude for my recent douchebag
interactions.
The clearer I am able to see myself the more I attract men who
can see me just as clearly.
I am finding that the good ones rarely offer assistance.
Instead they patiently wait until I make a request and they then
deliver when and on what they can.
When they cannot they tell me simply and trust my ability to
find my own way through the issue.
This I love (especially in the ones I’m hot for.) A mirror
to keep me alert to my level of authenticity in any moment.
So, to my dear douchebags I say Thank You for helping me
find my Edge, my Power and my Grace all at once, once and for all.
A deep and gracious curtsy in your direction (and yes, that
is my middle finger too.)
So, do you know what sort of Douchebag you fall prey to?
Is it the Lying-Sac-of-Shit Douchebag?
Is it the I-Need-a-Mama Douchebag?
Is it the Self-Esteem-Boost Douchebag? (This one works in
both directions by the way.)
Their style can tell
you a lot about where to make the adjustments in yourself.
Tell me and I’ll do my best to be your mirror.
