The Three-Step Persistence Plan

Would I Be Killed by a Terrorist… or Find a Husband?

“You’ll never get married. It’s more likely you’ll be killed by a terrorist!”

“There’s a better chance you’ll fall into a black hole!”

“You’re going to end up an old maid!”

“You’re too assertive and too up-front with your feelings. The man is wired to be the trapper. You’re supposed to be the fox.”

These words of discouragement came from my girlfriends during my 20s and 30s. I was unwilling to play the traditional romance game or let the man chase me. It would have felt dishonest. It would have felt alien. It would have felt un-Charlotte-like.

Plus, I was disinterested in almost every man I met. It felt like I was on the brink of asexuality. I was always one step away from an attraction to no one. Did I belong to the same phylum as bacteria, fungus, or the annelid worm? Did I not need a mate? Was there something wrong with me?

My gal pals would gush over tons of guys, from male models to movie stars and stylish chaps they met around town. Yet I’d be indifferent. They would drag me to pick-up joints, where I’d read philosophy books in the corner. They would vixen it up at singles parties, but I’d sit alone on the patio with the crickets and toads. They would flirt with “tall, dark, and handsomes” at the dog park, while I’d fawn over my neutered sheepdog as if he were the sexiest stud in the state.     

  

Thankfully, there was usually one guy who piqued my interest during those mostly-celibate years. First there was Tom (a singer), and then years later there was Jed (a teacher). Years after that, there was Eric (an engineer), then James (an executive), then Pat (a psychologist) and finally Charles (a lawyer).  

I did not pretend to be aloof and make these guys chase me because that would be deceptive and dismissive of my independent and decisive nature. In addition, “playing the game” would require waiting by the phone for my boyfriend to call. This would lead to anxiety and depression, which would lead to a lack of focus on self-improvement, which would lead to being a boring human being, which would lead to getting ditched and having to start the romance game over. Starting over did not work for me, especially as I assumed my boyfriend was the last dapper dude on the planet, the only man who could capture my heart. From past experience, I knew that I’d go through years of celibacy in order to find another “keeper”—that is, if I was lucky.

I eventually got dumped by each of these guys. Sometimes it was after years. Sometimes it was after months. I was loyal and devoted, thus I was always the dumpee. Ironically, this led to the angst and crushing misery that I was trying to avoid in the first place.

When my final boyfriend, Charles, called it quits after our three-year relationship, I changed my strategy. I invented the Three-Step Persistence Plan (TSPP).

The TSPP—which embraces a woman’s tenacious and assertive nature—is based on several assumptions: 1) If a man was once interested in you, he can be interested again, 2) It is beneficial to avoid the pain that normally accompanies a break-up, 3) Time provides a loving girlfriend with a wide array of permanent-partner options because she has more past boyfriends with whom she could be reunited. In my case, I was still in love with Charles so he was my target.  

The first step was to mark a date on the calendar at least six months in the future. This would be the day in which I would coincidentally (defined as “not so coincidentally”) run into Charles. I would have no contact with him until then. During this six-month period, I would not bury my tears in self-help books, join the all-men-are-jerks bandwagon, or eat crates of Double Stuff Oreos. The biggest benefit of the TSPP was that I was able to remain upbeat and optimistic because I had a goal. I had hope for a romantic reunion.   

Step two was to better myself and improve my life. I wanted to be the best I could be, not only for myself, but also for Charles. I exercised, dieted, was industrious in order to increase my income, and worked toward a doctorate at USC.

Step three was to show up for the reunion. I knew that in-person contact was crucial because most men are visual creatures. I could have popped into Charles’ favorite gym, pretended to visit someone at his office building, or gotten a mutual friend to invite him to a restaurant where I already happened to be. Instead I sent him an anonymous invitation for dinner at a Venice Beach apartment.   

Although I was unsure whether Charles would go to a strange place to meet a possibly even stranger person, I made the preparations. I got dolled up, cooked a tasty meal, and positioned romantic candles around the apartment. Then I waited nervously.   

To make an amusing story short, Charles showed up, surprised to find that I was the foreman behind the ploy. We rekindled our relationship that evening and a year later, he proposed marriage.   

The Three-Step Persistence Plan is the reason why I’ve been happily married for over twenty years. It is the reason why I no longer pour over philosophy books at pick-up bars. And it is the reason why I feel like a stronger and more self-sufficient woman.  

This strategy will increase your chance of finding a permanent partner, allow you to embrace your assertive nature, and reduce the odds of being killed by a terrorist. (Well, maybe not that last part.)

____

Published in Thrive Global on July 15, 2019.

Trump was right about Charlottesville but NOT for the reason he thinks: A Postmodern Argument

Charlotte Laws and Donald Trump at NATPE conference

The Charlottesville issue is a dragon that cannot be slayed. It is alluded to again and again in the media—a reminder that political correctness trumps truth; a reminder that the public sphere rewards sound bites; and a reminder that logic and common sense are often ignored within the marketplace of ideas.

When I first heard President Trump’s comments on Charlottesville back in 2017, I did not believe them to be controversial. I perceived them as a springboard which would spur a much-needed public debate about what qualifies as a “good person” or an “evil person.” I thought our country would soon be chewing on whether values are objective or whether moral absolutes are fairy tales.

I waited for this discussion. I waited for months, then a year. It never came.

I’d been naïve. I’d failed to realize that the political pundits, reporters, and establishment types rely on sound bites because they fit neatly into a headline, segment, or catchy quote. I had forgotten the importance of political correctness and that deviating from the norm can lead to the damage of a reputation or the loss of a career—risks that most folks are unwilling to take.

Trump had said something unforgiveable, according to critics. Although he’d denounced white supremacy, he’d said that there were “very fine people” on both sides of the Unite the Right rally or the Charlottesville clash. He later clarified that some on the far-right were simply against the removal of Robert E. Lee’s statue—a cue that he did not plan to plunge into the philosophical debate that I had hoped for.

But was he right in the first place? Were there “very fine people” on both sides? What does the phrase “very fine people” mean? Are most people “very fine” or is nobody “very fine”? Is the country split 50-50? Are only liberals “very fine”? Or conservatives? Or independents?

Morally judging others is a subjective endeavor. It is no different from evaluating a painting or a song. If one has a positive attitude, one is more likely to see the good in others and deem them “very fine.” On the other hand, if one tends to see the glass as half empty, one is more likely to view other people as half empty as well.

Is a person with a racist attitude automatically evil? If the answer is yes, then our country is filled with a whole lot of evil because research shows that the majority of Americans are racist. There are even studies that reveal the biases of minority groups in relation to other minority groups; and there are first-person accounts and opeds that bolster these findings.    

Of course, measuring a person’s level of racism (and propensity to spew racist rhetoric) could be viewed as a tiny fraction of the task at hand. In order to determine “true reprehensibleness,” wouldn’t we need to examine an individual’s other prejudices, such as his sexism, homophobia, anti-Semitism, religious intolerance, and speciesism (arrogantly believing humans to be superior to other life forms)? Speciesists, by the way, probably comprise 99 percent of the U.S. population. If Trump’s critics are going to say a racist is a “bad person,” shouldn’t they say the same about a sexist, homophobe, or speciesist? Are they prepared to write off 99 percent of America? 

Lastly, there are what I call “physical crimes” (apart from “thought crimes” and “speech crimes”). If Trump’s critics want to go down the misguided path of claiming some folks are outright “bad,” data would be needed about these folks’ pasts. We’d need to do background checks. We’d need to know if some of the Charlottesville protestors and counter-protestors have committed adultery, sold illegal drugs, raped, destroyed property, bullied, cheated on their taxes, shoplifted, visited prostitutes, posted revenge porn, slapped around a spouse, or committed other “objectionable” acts.  

Perhaps some of the rally-goers are even murderers. Of course, the term “murder” can be defined in different ways. Animal advocates would apply the term to the killing of nonhuman animals (and to eating meat) while anti-abortion activists would apply it to the intentional destruction of fetuses. Anti-war protestors might extend “murder” to include activities on the battlefield while critics of the death penalty might extend it to cover state-sanctioned executions. Do Trump’s critics want to call everyone “evil” who has been a soldier, eaten a hamburger, or had an abortion? 

Individuals and groups are not objectively good or evil. Some of their actions may cause pain to others; and it makes sense to dissuade, denounce, and sometimes outlaw such behavior. But it is a wholly different proposition to condemn individuals or entire swaths of people as “irredeemably bad” or “deplorable” (as Hillary Clinton might say). It is not only irrational to do so. It is arrogant and promotes an I’m-ok-you’re-not-ok mentality. It leads to a toxic chasm in society and a hatred of others.  

Trump’s critics wanted him to play God on the Charlottesville issue. They wanted him to get on his high horse and declare an entire group “evil” without knowing much—or in some cases, anything—about these folks. They wanted him to offer a sound bite, to be politically correct, to sidestep philosophical analysis, and ultimately to ignore truth.

But he wisely ignored them, not only for the aforementioned reasons, but also because he probably realized that he needs votes in the next election. If a politician is being honest, he will admit that he wants votes from everybody, Votes—even from prejudiced constituents—can elect a great leader who can make a country better.