Shared Wisdom

CLOSED HEARTS

Marianne Williamson

"No one can doubt the ego's skill in building up false cases. "

I once knew a man who came on very strong at the beginning of relationships, but couldn't seem to help closing his heart as soon as a woman had opened hers. I have heard that kind of behavior referred to as an "addiction to the attraction phase" in relationships. This man did not maliciously go around hurting women. He sincerely wanted to be in a genuine, committed relationship. What he lacked were the spiritual skills that would enable him to settle down in one place long enough to build anything solid with an equal partner. As soon as he saw human faults and weaknesses in a woman, he would run. The narcissistic personality is looking for perfection, which is a way of making sure that love never has a chance to blossom. The initial high can be so heady, so tantalizing, that the real work of growth which needs to follow the initial attraction phase can seem too dull, too hard to commit to. As soon as the other person is seen to be a real human being, the ego is repelled and wants to find somewhere else to play.

 At the end of a relationship with someone like this, we feel as though we've taken cocaine. We had a fast and very exciting ride, and it felt at the time like something meaningful was happening.

Then we crashed and realized that nothing meaningful had happened at all. It was all made up. Now all we have is a headache, and we can see that this kind of thing isn't good, isn't healthy, and we don't want to do it again.

But there's a reason why we're attracted to relationships such as this. We were drawn to the illusion of meaning. Sometimes someone who has nothing to offer in a real relationship can come on like they're offering the world. They are so dissociated from their own feelings that they have become highly skilled performers, unconsciously playing whatever part our fantasies prescribe. But the responsibility for our pain still remains our own. If we hadn't been looking for a cheap thrill, we wouldn't have been vulnerable to the lie. How could we have been so stupid? That's the question we always ask ourselves at the end of these experiences. But once we've had enough of them, we admit to ourselves that we weren't really stupid at all. We suspected this was a drug. The problem was, we wanted it. We saw exactly what the game was with this person, usually within the first fifteen minutes, yet we were so attracted to the high, we were willing to pretend we didn't see it, for just anight, or a week, or however long it lasted.

The fact that someone said to us, "You are so fabulous. You're such a wonderful woman. This is such a great date. How lucky a guy is to get to date you," when he's only known you for an hour, is a blinking red light to any thinking woman. The problem is, the depth of our wounds can be so great-we can be so hungry to hear those words, because deep down we suspect that they're untrue that hearing them can cause us to put aside all rational considerations. When we're starved, we're desperate.

Women say to me sometimes, "Marianne, why do I always meet emotionally abusive men?" My answer is usually the following: "The problem is not that you met him-the problem is that you gave him your number." The problem, in other words, is not that we attract a certain kind of person, but rather that we are attracted to a certain kind of person. Someone who is distant emotionally might remind us, for instance, of one or both of our parents.

"His energy is distant and subtly disapproving-I must be home." The problem, then is not just that we are offered pain, but that we are comfortable with that pain. It's what we have always known.

The flip side of our dangerous attractions to people who have nothing to offer us is our tendency to feel bored by people who do. Nothing that is alien to our system can enter into us and stay there for long. This is true whether we're talking about something taken into our bodies or intoour minds. If I swallow a piece of aluminum foil, my body will regurgitate until the offending object is expelled. If I'm being asked to swallow an idea that doesn't "agree" with me, then my psychological system will go through the same process of regurgitation in order to expel the offending material. If I'm convinced that I'm not good enough, I will have a difficult time accepting someone into my life who thinks I am. It's the Groucho Marx syndrome of not wanting to like anyone who would want me in their club. The only way that I can accept someone's finding me wonderful, is if I find myself wonderful. But to the ego, self-acceptance is death.This is why we're attracted to people who don't want us. We know they're not into it from the gate. We pretend to be surprised later when we find ourselves betrayed and they leave after an intense but fairly short stay. They fit perfectly into our ego's plan: I will not be loved. The reason that nice, available people seem boring to us is because they bust us. The ego equates emotional danger with excitement, and claims that the nice, available person isn't dangerous enough. The irony is that the opposite is true: available people are the ones who are dangerous, because they confront us with the possibility of real intimacy. They might actually hang around long enough to get to know us. They could melt our defenses, not through violence but through love. This is what the ego doesn't want us to see. Available people are frightening. Theythreaten the ego's citadel. The reason we're not attracted to them is because we're not available ourselves.