Confession #1

This entry is the first in what I hope to be a regular series that delves deeper into myself. I’m going to be publicly introspective to see if that helps me improve the man I am and the man I hope to be.

I really don’t like going out of my way for people.

Friends, family, strangers. Doesn’t matter. I see my life as a series of lines between point A (where I am) and point B (where I’m going). If you’re physically located somewhere between those two places, I’ll stop by. Otherwise, no way.

I’ll give you an example. A friend was recently hospitalized. I prayed for him to get better quickly so I wouldn’t have to take the time out of my normal routine to go visit him.

I’ll give you another example. A few months ago, I had a late meeting at work. After the meeting, an older community member who I really like invited me to join her and her husband for dinner at a nearby restaurant. I declined because the invitation got in the way of how I had expected my evening to unfold. It’s not that things have to align perfectly for me, it’s just that I leave no room for the unexpected when I set my mind on what point B is.

I’ll give you yet another example. A year ago, I decided that it might be a good idea to meet my biological mother before I no longer had that opportunity (should she pass away). At the time, I driving fairly regularly between St. Louis and Charleston, WV, a route that took me within an hour of bio mom’s home. However, that’s still an extra hour, so it didn’t happen. Now that my long-distance relationship is over, it hasn’t even crossed my mind to make that drive out to meet bio mom. It doesn’t even seem like an option because it’s not on the way to something else.

The flip side of all this is that I understand what my love language is. I like people to go out of their way for me or do something for me so I don’t have to go out of my way. Don’t buy me a gift; instead, run an errand for me. That works for me.

Where does this leave me? Probably completely incapable of having a successful romantic relationship until I figure out a way to make sense of it. Sure, I have things to do at points A and B. They’re either work, errands, different types of work (writing, TypeTribe, more writing), or specific events with friends. But I still need to learn to make room for the unexpected, for time (often in the car) where I’m not doing anything, for people who I compartmentalize into my life where it’s convenient.

I’ll get there. But for now, I’m at A, on my way to B, and nothing will interrupt that straight line.