When I was in college the get-to-know you questions typically included: "So, what's your major?" "Where do you live?" "What ward are you in?" and "Where are you from?" --- All in an innocent effort to find some common ground and interests..... or perhaps just an excuse to talk to that cute guy in biology. We identifed ourselves by our majors and from there weighed and measured possible dating outcomes....
As a mid-single the approach is, well.....not so innocent.
While our now years of experience have left some of us jaded, and even more of us confused, it seems to me that we have lost some of who we are....and were.....along the way.
No longer do we identify ourselves by majors but by stats and status. (See that guy over there? that's Joe... he's divorced with 3 kids.... but he's employed!). I remember one instance - really more of a cruel initiation into the mid-singles world - a first date with a guy who, in my novice opinion, showed promise.....
It was a lovely afternoon.... just perfect for a pork salad at Cafe Rio with a total stranger. As I walked through the door dressed in my cutest Big Star jeans - the ones with the perfect pockets that make my derrière look incredible - and makeup just right to bring out my green eyes, a fairly good-looking guy stood up to greet me. I blew a sigh of relief as I noticed he was actually taller than my own 5'10"..... and still had hair.
The approval was mutual, judging by the grin on his face, and I could almost see his own anxiety melt away as he recognized, to his immediate relief, my claim to an "average build" did in fact mean, average build.
We ordered our salads one after the other and laughed approvingly after realizing we ordered our salads the exact same way. It was like starring in an LDS fiction/romance movie...... until we sat down to eat...... and talk.
We hit it off.... (He was divorced, active in church, wanted a family, had a good job.... and even had food storage)...... or so it seemed, until he blurted out all the reasons for his divorce.
Maybe some people can handle that much personal information at one time. For me, it's totally overwhelming..... And for heaven's sake.... at least give me a chance to get to know you before I..... uh.....really know you.
After several duck and rolls, attempting to ward off his #1 objective to choke a confession out of me, I caved under the heat as he shot one question after another. Maybe it was the truth serum he sneaked into my salad dressing, that made me betray myself, although I pleaded for humane and equal treatment. But, eventually, my name, rank, service # and DOB just weren't enough to bypass the torture.
Him (still not giving up on getting my confession): "I feel it's best just to lay it all out on the table upfront. That way you know what you're dealing with."
Me: (huh?)
I wanted to demand a pencil and notepad to document this Law of War violation.
Him: What was your mission at the time of capture?
Me: Hmmmmm....well, if I tell you then I'll have to kill you.
My question is this: Why do we insist on knowing someone's history and to what end?
If we spend all our effort and energy in overcoming the "dirt" in our lives only to have to dig it up time and again, how do we ever leave the past and move forward?
I am who I am today because of my experiences of yesterday....hopefully it has made me a better person. I think it has. And if I'm right, you should be thanking your lucky stars...and not get hung up on the why.
Maybe stats and status aren't really all so important....in the eternal realm of things.....and maybe if we get to know today's version of one another, and leave yesterday's right where it belongs, we might have a fighting chance and maybe even a second date. ;)
-- cl
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