SurvivingInfidelity.com^®

My W was oblivious to signs of interest from men when we met. She was an extremely dedicated student - she complained of guys approaching her at the college library to ask her out for coffee. 'Couldn't they understand I was at the library to study?'

I asked her if she didn't think maybe they wanted to get to know her. She looked at me as if I were crazy - me, a guy who asked her out for coffee after class one day, so I could get to know her. But if she hadn't gone with me, she was going back to her dorm to study.

She simply did not send out availability vibes and never thought of herself as attractive, so she missed the expressions of interest. My interest in sex with her came as a surprise!

It took me a long time to ask her out for anything but coffee after class. A few years ago, a mutual friend asked me why it took so long. I said I was afraid she'd say, 'No.'

Our friend said, 'But she gave up study time to drink coffee with you.' I have never felt more clueless.

Low self-esteem sucks, sucks, sucks.

[This message edited by sisoon at 4:04 PM, October 14th (Monday)]

Of course after years of gaining confidence, this whole ordeal hits me and knocks me back down to square one.

Exactly! All those years in 12-step programs kicking alcohol and drugs, training my body and mind through martial arts, reading books, and much prayer came crashing down when I found out that WW preferred other men over me and our child.

On D-Day 1 and D-Day 2 all those negative voices popped back in my head and reminded me, "See, we warned you that you were worthless."

Low self-esteem sucks, sucks, sucks.

Indeed. But from the beginning of this year until now something has risen back up in me. Don't know if it's self-preservation or an "I just don't give a crap any longer" attitude. Maybe they're one and the same.

Another thing that has popped up of late in my thoughts is the need for justice. "Son of a bitch must pay!!!" Of course I won't be pursuing that. But it's interesting that after all these years the injustice of it all still bothers me so much.

Incarnate - good to hear from you as well. Is there any significance to the runes on that chest that intertwines with your current experience? Just curious. Either way, it is a beautiful piece of wood work. Really nice job!

Thank you. Yes, the runes themselves have significance; the vines have 24 leaves, and in each leaf is one of the Elder Futhark runes, the symbols used for both writing and mysticism in the ancient Norse religion (Odhinn, Thor, Heimdall, Loki, etc). When I was a practicing pagan, my deity of choice was Odhinn himself. The story of the finding.discovery of the runes is as follows, from the Havamal, a poem of the Poetic Edda, one of the principal texts recording the Norse mythos;

Odin watched the Norns from his seat in Asgard and envied their powers and their wisdom. And he bent his will toward the task of coming to know the runes.

Having been initiated into the mysteries of the runes, Odin recounted:

Then I was fertilized and became wise;

From a work to a work I was led to a work.

Equipped with the knowledge of how to wield the runes, he became one of the mightiest and most accomplished beings in the cosmos. He learned chants that enabled him to heal emotional and bodily wounds, to bind his enemies and render their weapons worthless, to free himself from constraints, to put out fires, to expose and banish practitioners of malevolent magic, to protect his friends in battle, to wake the dead, to win and keep a lover, and to perform many other feats like these.

I have Teiwaz, the Rune of the Warrior, tattooed on my right shoulder, my sword arm. My usual online pseudonym is a combination of the runes Berkana (Birch/growth) and Kennaz (Torch/discovery), but under a different culture's names for them.

Next to the vines are two bindrunes, which are two or more runes juxtaposed to form a new symbol that combines them. I will not describe what they are or what they mean. I stained them with a mixture of alcohol, rose petals, wormwood extract, black walnut husk dye, and my own blood. Their use and meaning is private.

Across the top is the name BEORC, which is another pseudonym I used, mostly when performing rituals with others.

The octagram that dominates the center is my own personal symbol, though it has significance in many cultures. In each point is a rune, each with a different use/purpose. From the top, going clockwise, is Teiwaz (victory), Ansuz (communication), Gebo (gifts), Inguz (sexuality/fertility), Algiz (protection), Fehu (wealth/cattle), Perthro (luck/magic), and Ehwaz (partnership).

The runes and their use were a specialty of mine. I've led classes on them, spoken at large gatherings, and trained individuals on their use, both for weal and for woe (good and bad).

So yeah. The carvings have very deep significance. Whether or not they have to do with my current situation? My ex horrifically abused that altar, requiring me to completely disassemble and refinish it from bare pieces. It did have the "partnership" and "sexuality" runes on it, and she did assist me in a number of rituals using that altar, so... maybe. I'm just superstitious enough to not dismiss the idea.

I would like to hear your "broken picker" commentary, for one, because I think I broached that subject, and for two, because I feel like I have a "broken picker".

I... am not currently in a place to really dig into that. My ex is home now, she is acting fucking weird (super excited but hyper secretive on the phone, snappish and angry with me whenever I have to communicate with her) so my hypervigilance is flaring up like a quasar. I'll try to get to a place where I can talk better soon.

Alright. Broken picker.

Now, I don't know exactly how much I subscribe to just the 'picker' being broken. I think that is an over-compartmentalization that, while it might be flippant or 'not literal' still tends to put our mentality towards saying/thinking that "Oh, the rest of me is just fine, it's only this one specific part that needs to be worked on, and that's just when I can get to it."

I think our 'picker' is like the canary in the coal mine. When I met my ex, first off, I was 16. My picker was "Does she have tits? Does she have nice butt? Does she have a pretty face? Is she nice to me? Does she put out?"

5/5 stars, boom, soulmates. We got along well, we had a lot of the same interests, but ffs, I was 16, she was 18. We married when I was 17, she was 19. We were barely more than children.

My 'picker' wasn't broken, it just wasn't mature, just like I wasn't mature and she wasn't mature. We were still living under the umbrellas of both of our incredibly fucked up families. We were just happy to find sympathetic and enthusiastic solace in each other. That carried through for a long, long time, but it wasn't enough.

in retrospect, we were both horrible for each other. Incredibly lonely, codependent, and in essence, both of us were broken. Still are, really, seventeen years later. Not just our pickers, but us. We both started to discover, maybe subconsciously, that we couldn't give each other what we needed.

Apparently she needed multiple dicks in her mouth, in her life, and between her legs to get fulfillment. I only had one. My bad.

I needed someone honest, dedicated, and loving. She could only give me the fake, manufactured version of that. I mean, if I am not being emotional and angry and hateful/spiteful about it, if she didn't feel it, well she didn't feel it. You can't just make that shit happen; it either does or it doesn't, and if it does, it doesn't have an unlimited lifetime warranty. She handled it in a fucked up, selfish, narcissistic way, but that doesn't change the reality of how she did or did not feel.

She needed/wanted to play the field. There's nothing inherently immoral in that. What makes it immoral is the way she went about it, without being honest, open, and clear in the fact that she wanted out and getting out first.

I needed something that she couldn't give me, and she needed something that I couldn't give her.

But I digress.

Back to the picker. I know I tend to gravitate towards needy women. I always have. Every lady I spent time around that I felt a glimmer of interest in had -issues-. My first serious girlfriend was a victim of sexual and physical abuse. She needed a hero. I wanted to be that hero. I was too young to realize it, but in retrospect, it was obvious. My second serious girlfriend too. My third serious girlfriend was the victim of violent sexual assault at a party, and I went out of my way to exact revenge on the men that did it to her.

I found them and I hurt them. I was young and aggressive, already as big as a full grown man (I was fifteen, 5'10", 220 lbs, and working as a roofer and groundman for treeclimbers) and I was, at that time, what she felt she needed. Affectionate and caring and a force of directed anger and vengeance. Her picker picked what she needed at the time, despite the fact that again, in retrospect, we weren't great for each other. My picker found a girl that needed a hero, and I was more than willing to put on that cape in exchange for the affection, attention, and care I got in return. I thought it was love. I think she probably did too. It obviously didn't work out.

Now, I still have that urge, that desire to be looked up to, to be -needed-, to be that golden caped savior that swoops in and fixes everything and flies off with the damsel into the sunset to James Bond that motherfucker on a white sand beach after beating the 'bad guy.' That's what I want in my lizard brain, in my root, in my animalistic gut.

But yaknow what, James Bond didn't stay with any of those women he rescued. Biological attraction and superficial compatibility do not a relationship make. Hell, that's what most of our WSs get from their APs. Some caped crusader coming in out of the blue to fuck away their problems with their anti-Kryptonite dicks.

I think that until we figure our shit out, I mean REALLY figure our shit out, we won't be able to make a real connection with someone because we don't even know what the FUCK kind of plug we have. Is it the standard US 110? It is one of those fucking weird Euro plugs? One of the multitude of 220 plugs? Are we three phase? Maybe we run off of a 12 volt system.

Until we know what the hell we are, WHO the hell we are, and get that shit nailed the fuck down, we'll just be buying different adapters to make it work.

And fuck just making it work. Fuck that.

FUCK THAT.

Incarnate,

Thanks for the explanation of the runes. I grew up in a very conservative religious background, but once I moved out I ended up becoming friends with a bunch of pagan folk, who I am still friends with to this day. I don't subscribe to any particular beliefs, but I do find everything you had to say about the runes fascinating. I really appreciate you sharing that, and going through the explanations. It makes the woodwork even cooler than I already thought it was!

Now, I don't know exactly how much I subscribe to just the 'picker' being broken. I think that is an over-compartmentalization that, while it might be flippant or 'not literal' still tends to put our mentality towards saying/thinking that "Oh, the rest of me is just fine, it's only this one specific part that needs to be worked on, and that's just when I can get to it."

Very poignant statement, and there is also a lot of truth there. Please know that when I used the term "broken picker", it was not intended to be flippant at all. The reason I asked you to expand on it is because I know there is so much more to it than a simple two word phrase. That's just the tip of the iceberg.

I think you gave a very valid explanation for your situation, and thank you very much for taking the time and mental energy to do that. We are all learning here.

In my case, I tend to gravitate towards women with unhealthy behavior. Women who are controlling. And also women in need of a KISA (Knight in Shining Armor).

I'm trying to break my patterns, but looking back at my previous relationships, which were not many, as I met my wife at 22, I tended to gravitate towards women with particular dysfunctions, if that makes sense?

I think a lot of that originates with being attracted to what is familiar. If you look at the word "familiar", it is obvious that the etymology originates from the same place as the word "family". I think there a lot of learned behaviors that a lot of us kind of gravitate to, based upon what was familiar with us growing up.

In my case, I'm not pushing very hard to be in a relationship with anyone anytime soon, as I feel like I have to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, and why I gravitate towards certain personality types, because I'll be damned if I end up in the same type of situation I just escaped from.

Does that make sense?

Again, I truly appreciate your explanation and perception of the phrase "broken picker". I'm sure there are others with much different opinions here as well. We are all different here, and I appreciate the diversity of opinion. That's what makes this board work!

Indeed. But from the beginning of this year until now something has risen back up in me. Don't know if it's self-preservation or an "I just don't give a crap any longer" attitude. Maybe they're one and the same.

I think this is great, Mr. K. I think one of the phrases that got me the most when I was still trying to reconcile came from Tred. May have been someone else? Fellas correct me if I'm wrong. It was something like "I love you, but I love me more.", or something like that. Letting go of the negative self talk and making yourself a priority is a good thing.

I can certainly see why you are a writer, Incarnate. You have a way with words that you use skillfully. A gift.

I know you're a pagan by your own admission. I'm a born again Christian. There is a book by a Christian writer, John Eldredge, called Wild at Heart. He puts forth a premise that men, from childhood up, are searching for a battle to fight, a beauty to rescue and an adventure to live. It's in our DNA.

I'm not sure how I tied this into a "picker" or a "broken picker" but I did for myself, anyway. We see lots about the KISA. I think there is some of that in most of us males. It's part of this battle to fight and beauty to rescue.

Just a thought I throw out there.

searching for a battle to fight, a beauty to rescue and an adventure to live

Boy, have I felt all of those things in my bones since an early age. As an aside, I see culture and genetics as two influences working in tandem to manifest results, so I don't attribute either as a specific origin for those impulses.

And I also feel the background stress of having no battle to fight, no beauty to rescue, and no adventure to live. The third one can be met with travel or other kinds of new experiences, but those examples are discrete and kind of hollow. I enjoy my job, but as in any corporate environment, there's enough red tape and inertia to make it seem like more of a grind than a true "battle". And I've removed myself from dating scene, so say goodbye to a beauty to "rescue".

It's a weird existence to be plunked into in your mid 30s. Those kinds of deeper motivations become apparent when you seem to have your life chugging along with sufficient structure and momentum, but there's that sense of "missing something".

In my case, I'm not pushing very hard to be in a relationship with anyone anytime soon, as I feel like I have to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, and why I gravitate towards certain personality types, because I'll be damned if I end up in the same type of situation I just escaped from.

I get that. I am, honestly, keeping my eye open for a part-time partner. I know some of it is selfish, in that, honestly, I'm horny. I want to get laid. I want sex. Yes, I want that validation that, after shedding 30 lbs as quickly as I did and adding to my muscle mass and improving my silhouette, that I am a desirable person, that I am attractive and sexy and sexual, that the walrus and scrawny little fuckboy my (frankly very pretty) ex dumped me to have sex with aren't better and more attractive than me.

I want to lie down (or stand up or swim or jump on a fucking trampoline, IDGAF) with a woman who I am attracted to and is attracted to me and I want to make magic with our bodies. It doesn't have to be pornstar sex, but yaknow what? That would be pretty goddamn dope. I want that immediate intimate connection, even if it doesn't come with that buttery smooth obsession of love. I'll settle, right now, for attraction and acceptance, and then I'll go home. Or she'll go home, whatever, I'm not picky in that regard.

I want someone that I can throw a message to and just have a chat with, without all of the baggage. Someone I can have dinner with or see a movie with, and have the possibility of getting laid afterwards. And then I wanna go home and play DOOM or Wolfenstein or Fallout or Skyrim.

That sounds, right now, pretty fucking awesome. To not have to introduce someone to my family or my kids, to not have to plan my day around shared mutual tasks, to just have a person I have enjoyable time with, and when it's done, we go our separate ways until the next time. If something more forms from that, cool. If not, cool. If it's just FWB or booty calls, cool. If it's "pick up a pizza and we'll put on a movie and make out," cool. I really couldn't care less about that.

I just got matched with a local gal, a wee bit younger than me (which is a change; I normally match with women who are more than a little older - 5 to 10 years on average), and she's gorgeous, she seems nice enough, and she doesn't want a commitment.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut...

She is a stay at home In Home Supportive Services worker who cares for her disabled mother and brother. She doesn't get out much, and she seems like she could have an issue or two that goes along with that.

But then again, no kids, no other job (IHSS pays well), no partner, and a willingness to spend time with someone and get laid? That... kinda sounds like me right now. I'd always have to go to her, but she's not too far, and it avoids awkwardness with trying to bring a lady home to a house that still has my ex and five daughters in it. So again, not too much of a problem.

So the balance here, that my picker is absolutely insufficient to figure out, is whether it's worth it to at least -look- and give it a shot. Would a date or two, a drink, be so bad? If they led to scratching that itch for both of us, would it be so bad?

Well, the logical part of my brain says yeah, it could turn out to be a nightmare. The animal side of my brain says "Does she have tits? Does she have a nice butt? Is she pretty? Is she nice to you? Does she put out? 3/5 stars already, dude. Gotta meet her to figure out the other two."

I haven't messaged her yet. I'm holding off. I might chat with her. I might not. I dunno yet. I know that I've gotten a 2x4 or two from some of y'all, and whether I had it coming or not is, well, subjective (I was, as I said I would, able to walk away from the other woman with no hard feelings on either side), but it -has- only been two months.

Bah. Caveman days were so much simpler. Thump 'em over the head with a club and go kill a saber-toothed moose for 'em, and you're golden. Didn't have to deal with any of this extra shit.

[This message edited by Incarnate at 10:35 PM, October 15th (Tuesday)]

I think this is great, Mr. K. I think one of the phrases that got me the most when I was still trying to reconcile came from Tred. May have been someone else? Fellas correct me if I'm wrong. It was something like "I love you, but I love me more.", or something like that. Letting go of the negative self talk and making yourself a priority is a good thing.

Thanks LW. Wish it didn't feel so conflicting though at times.

And I also feel the background stress of having no battle to fight, no beauty to rescue, and no adventure to live.

Maybe the real battle is for your self-respect and sanity, and the beauty you need to rescue is you.

Thanks for your reply, Incarnate. Just know that I am not judging you at all, not even 1%. Just having an open dialog with you. You can tell me to STFU at any time. LOL

I get that. I am, honestly, keeping my eye open for a part-time partner. I know some of it is selfish, in that, honestly, I'm horny. I want to get laid. I want sex. Yes, I want that validation that, after shedding 30 lbs as quickly as I did and adding to my muscle mass and improving my silhouette, that I am a desirable person, that I am attractive and sexy and sexual, that the walrus and scrawny little fuckboy my (frankly very pretty) ex dumped me to have sex with aren't better and more attractive than me.

I get this as well. A lot of it, down to having a very attractive STBX who chose an AP that I would consider very unattractive physically, mentally, and as person in general. I understand your need for physical validation. It is a very primal thing. Losing a bunch of weight and feeling like you are more in your prime, while having a lot of anger, and also a new found confidence are all factors here.

I just got matched with a local gal, a wee bit younger than me (which is a change; I normally match with women who are more than a little older - 5 to 10 years on average), and she's gorgeous, she seems nice enough, and she doesn't want a commitment.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut...

She is a stay at home In Home Supportive Services worker who cares for her disabled mother and brother. She doesn't get out much, and she seems like she could have an issue or two that goes along with that.

But then again, no kids, no other job (IHSS pays well), no partner, and a willingness to spend time with someone and get laid? That... kinda sounds like me right now. I'd always have to go to her, but she's not too far, and it avoids awkwardness with trying to bring a lady home to a house that still has my ex and five daughters in it. So again, not too much of a problem.

On the flip side, look at what you just typed here, man! I am already seeing emotional investment. That's not a critique, I'm just saying you might not be 100% NSA/FWB material.

I'm not going to 2x4 you at all. All I am saying is that you've been through a ton of shit, and be careful not to bring any more shit upon yourself. I've seen it happen too many times. I've brought shit upon myself as well. You've been heard. Protect your heart, my friend. An it harm none, do what thou wilt.

On the flip side, look at what you just typed here, man! I am already seeing emotional investment. That's not a critique, I'm just saying you might not be 100% NSA/FWB material.

Yaknow, that's probably fair. A lot of people on here say that they see me getting emotionally involved with people quickly, but I think that's a bit of a misinterpretation.

I mean, hey. I'm a writer. It's what I do. I literally JUST finished a writing sprint on my seventh novel while I'm waiting for the cover for my sixth. I busted out 1681 words of pretty good stuff for chapter one, and it was fast paced, emotional, tense, high-action stuff. My main character ended the last novel having stabbed her Master to death as he tried to assault her, and this first scene was her escaping the complex that she had been living in. High-impact stuff.

That's how I write. I write passionately whether it is on a forum, in a thread somewhere, in my books, in messenger, here, everywhere. I find that one of the major things lacking in a lot of written communication is the emotion and feeling that you can pick up from someone's expressions and voice when you're face to face, and I really try to use all of my skills to impart that in my written communication.

So I can see how people might read an emotional investment in my words when I am writing about someone. But I haven't even had a conversation with this next lady yet. What I mentioned was what I picked up off of her profile, and was, honestly, me weighting out the pros and cons of it all.

But yaknow, yeah. I'm in a heightened emotional state pretty much consistently. I'm lonely. FUCK ME, I'm so lonely. I don't do good with lonely. Not at all. Lonely is like a special kind of hell for me. It's isolating, debilitating, and cripplingly depressing. I'm angry. Oh my god, am I angry. I am so furious. I keep it under control, under wraps most of the time, but it's a blistering, smouldering, seething rage. I can do things that make me forget it for a time, but then I start ruminating, I see my ex, and I see those pictures just smeared all over her face, all over her body. I remember the night before she left for her trip, where she was being playful and showing me her trim/wax/shave job down below, but then wouldn't sleep with me. She had used my beard clippers to trim herself in preparation for meeting with her affair partners, and used me as a way to make sure it was nice.

Fuck her. It WAS nice. I was depressed that she denied me because she "didn't want to deal with a mess while on the plane." Nah, she didn't wanna give fuckboy and walrus whore sloppy seconds.

Yeah. I'm still angry.

But we all have that. Every single one of us. Even those of us who have had years post separation and divorce. That shit rears its head from time to time, and I know life goes on and with time it gets duller. I know that mine is really raw, really sharp right now. I get that, I really do. That's why I'm not swan diving into the dating scene with both arms wide open.

But I am looking. I'm keeping my eyes open for something mutual, something simple, and something nice. I need some nice in my life. I need some comfort because ain't nowhere else offering it here and now. My kids, they're awesome, and I love them with my whole entire being, but it just isn't the same. My mom, my sisters, my brothers... it's different. I know you all know how this is.

So emotional investment? Maybe in my situation. Maybe in my own desires and needs and goals. Emotional investment in people? Nah. Not for that first gal I was talking to. She got attention, I got a confidence boost.

Not for this gal. Ain't even talked to her yet. The extent of my thought process was "She seems nice, and I can picture myself in bed with her. [insert logistics here]"

Primal, yeah. Base, totally. Vulgar? Maybe a little.

Real? Honest? 100%.

[This message edited by Incarnate at 12:37 PM, October 16th (Wednesday)]

Incarnate, have you ever had one of those buddies that insisted his new girl isn’t like those other ones? You know, the girl that has train wreck written across her forehead and everyone can see it but him?

My ex was that girl.

I'm going to guess that this will segue into me being that girl right now, lol. And that's probably fair.

Lol, my intention wasn’t to segue into that. Though the thought did cross my mind.

Actually I asked because as I was reading your last post, your rationalizing made me think about that situation.

You’re a grown man. I’m not here to tell you what you can or can’t do. My only thought is - if you need someone else to help with your loneliness, you’re doing it wrong. Check my profile, you’ll see my original SI name. I know the battle.

Edit: late and kinda big edit...My intention wasn’t to segue...

[This message edited by Loukas at 3:22 PM, October 16th (Wednesday)]

So I can see how people might read an emotional investment in my words when I am writing about someone. But I haven't even had a conversation with this next lady yet. What I mentioned was what I picked up off of her profile, and was, honestly, me weighting out the pros and cons of it all.

Fair. I think I have to agree with Steady that you are a gifted writer.

I appreciate your candid responses. Your willingness to stick around while answering some tough questions speaks a lot about your character. You'll be alright in the long run.

I appreciate the vote of confidence.

In my estimation, secrecy and silence are the vehicles of abuse. I refuse to give them free parking in my soul anymore.

In my estimation, secrecy and silence are the vehicles of abuse. I refuse to give them free parking in my soul anymore.

Very well stated. I kind of found my voice on this site. Might be time to think about a user name change...

Might be time to think about a user name change...

But what could it be?🤔 A change of genre, possibly?

You can tell me to STFU at any time.

C'mon, losfer. Incarnate would come up with a much more memorable way of putting it.

(Your words are always very evocative, Incarnate. Seriously. My brother is a successful writer of non-fiction who wished he could do fiction.)

********

Pickers I have always said that I picked my W in part because our neuroses were compatible. I think that goes for many couples, and perhaps all who aren't in arranged Ms.

It's something human beings just ahve to deal with.