This week, I have a shorter post, reflecting on last week’s post.
I wrote about doing something about a dearth of friends by attending a running group and asking a guy I know to go running. I spoke with someone close to me about this and he pointed out something that I want to share here.
I went to the running group and was asked to introduce myself, state my pace, and if I was training for anything in particular. I dutifully answered the exact question, but this person told me, maybe I shouldn’t have.
I could have taken the opportunity to simply say that I was there to meet people instead of saying “I’m not training for anything in particular. Maybe an ultra next year.” He pointed out to me that I sort of missed an opportunity by pushing off the question, rather than presenting myself as open to people.
I realized I do this all the time.
What’s more, when I asked my acquaintance to go running, I asked him to join me at this running group. And that’s very different from asking him to go running just the two of us. Different dynamic in the two situations entirely.
These are small things, and I’m not beating myself up over, them. However, they’re food for thought: What are the ways we close ourselves off unintentionally? How can we be alert to these small moments without becoming self-conscious, or worse, rehearsed? Are there patterns in when we deflect versus when we’re open? (Like, do I do this more with new people? In groups versus one-on-one?). What stops us from being more direct about wanting connection—is it fear of seeming needy, or something else?
Those are things I’m thinking about.
Lately, I’ve seen some news stories about the “manosphere,” and it’s impact on boys. I’m going to do a more careful reading before posting, but that’s something to look forward to.
Thanks for reading. I’m experimenting with different newsletter formats, so bear with me as I am aware each week is a bit different. Eventually, I’ll settle into something that works that I also like.