About three pages full of posts are tagged "Not dating," which suggests that I've given a lot of thought to this particular lack of activity. I tend to clam up, though, when someone else introduces the topic, and that's mostly what happened last Friday at the shrink's office.
This is, I suspect, a byproduct of wishing to avoid that whole transference thing, inasmuch as the therapist in question, at least given my particular criteria, comes off as highly desirable, and I don't think it's at all wise to wake up that section of my libido if it's going to fixate on her. (And she, I think, would agree.) Where things get complicated is where that reluctance intersects with her insistence than I should be, um, dating — "for my own good," she says.
So I began the opening round of countermeasures with the perhaps obvious declaration that I had a pretty good idea what turned me on, but I had no idea whatsoever why it did: I could point to no instance in my past and say that because of this, I today fixate on that. It doesn't work that way. Seeing an opening, she drew me out, and I eventually found myself blurting out that had I my druthers, "druthers" being a late-19th century colloquialism for "personal preferences," I'd want to see my headcanon version of the Twitter user @SwiftOnSecurity, which may or may not correspond to reality, falling into my lap.
This isn't the first time I'd reached this conclusion, either:
After a couple of months of this, I had pretty well merged Taylor Swift and @SwiftOnSecurity into one person; it is much easier, for me anyway, to assume that Taylor Swift, a legendarily security-minded individual, actually would have a side career in InfoSec, and that some of the same beliefs that inform her life and her artistry would of necessity inform her approach to secure computing.
Last week, in fact:
This particular implementation of the fantasy corresponds to my ongoing non sum dignus stance: I am not worthy of gazing upon her from far away, let alone walking side by side with her.
"You do spend a lot of time kicking yourself," said the therapist.
Well, yeah; for one thing, I know, perhaps better than anyone else, the exact place to deliver the blow for maximum impact.
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