The Game of Desire

by Shannon Boodram

  “It’s been . . .” Deshawn exhaled and shuffled around, “. . . tough.”

  “Tough?”

  “Yeah, I hope that’s okay for me to say but there was definitely a time where I seriously felt like quitting. I’ve never had to look at myself this way before and it’s been uncomfortable and brought up a lot of things I didn’t realize were there. I even ended up getting in a big fight with my grandma about it because she called me out on a few things. It’s just been a lot. But I slept on it and when I woke up, I felt like, ‘okay, at least I am now recognizing what’s going wrong and that’s a start.’”

  I revealed to Deshawn what I had learned from my previous phone calls: everyone else at one time considered quitting the group. I didn’t take it personally since this program included a lot of tough critiquing in a short amount of time.

  “Sure, pressure makes diamonds,” I continued. “But it also causes meltdowns, so it’s totally understandable what you’ve gone through and I promise going forward it gets much easier and more fun. But, that being said, right now are you up for some more uncomfortable honesty?”

  “Oh Lord,” she laughed. “No, but I mean, sure, why not. Let’s do it.”

  I revealed to Deshawn what I had observed about her from day one: she was a smart and fascinating woman who tended to present herself like a quirky teen who was still trying to find her homeroom. I knew for a fact that she had so much knowledge to offer and so much value to bring to every room, but I hadn’t seen her leave that mark any of the times we had shared together.

  “Okay, so what am I supposed to do to change that?”

  “I want to see you step into your expertise more. I know you think your job is boring to people but maybe you just have to find the angle where it’s interesting. Heck, everyone drinks water, it shouldn’t be that hard! Find those spaces that you can showcase the intelligent, secure and adult Deshawn. I’m not saying to get rid of your youthful glow, I love that about you. But right now, you are somewhere between a zero fucks seducer and a Peter Pan anti-seducer that still lives with her mom; I just wanna see you lean more into the former. You can be playful without being childish.”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “It makes a lot of sense. As I told you in the past, I tend to get friend-zoned a lot. I’ll get close to someone only for them to stop seeing me in that kind of way, so yeah, I can understand that. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex and I’d like to do that with someone—and do it well—soon. So, getting a little sexier is something I can get on board with.”

  That last line stunned me just a bit. Deshawn was the church girl in the group and even though I knew she wasn’t a virgin, I didn’t know she wasn’t abstinent by choice. I thought back on her workbook and her horngry description of her Turn-On Trigger. It dawned on me that part of what was holding her back from presenting like a sexual woman was that she wasn’t finding opportunities to explode into her sexual side. I made a note to add that to the list of things that had to change.

  “Speaking of men from your past, I wanna get into what your exes said about you not listening. Do you know what they meant?”

  “Not really.”

  I did. After observing her during the informal parts of our group meetings, I could see where they were coming from. So, I pointed out to her that talking a little less and listening a lot more, was actually just an extension of what we’d already been discussing, maturity. As children, we aren’t expected to be interested in others, instead, it’s other people’s job to engage with us. But eventually that has to flip if we want to participate in a mutually satisfying, adult connection. This problem is so rampant in our me-me culture, that I’d bet my last dollar you can think of at least one full-grown person who never got that memo.

  But in Deshawn’s defense, she wasn’t a long talker. Instead, she failed to give people the opportunity to elaborate. As soon as someone told a personal story, instead of asking them a follow-up question, she’d immediately launch into a parallel experience of her own. And while yes, it’s great to relate, if we don’t ask follow-up questions once in a while, it gives off the impression that we’re competing or that we were only listening for a break in conversation so we could talk about ourselves again.

  I didn’t think that was Deshawn’s motivation, but I did think this bad habit formed with good intentions in reaction to her past. Deshawn grew up in a family that couldn’t relate to her, so I believe she became overly focused on jumping on every opportunity to immediately point out what she had in common with others.

  “So, try this in conversation instead: when someone shares something that you can connect to, ask them at least one follow-up question before adding on to the discussion. Sound doable?”

  “Okay, so be more comfortable stepping into my expertise, show my sensual side more and ask more questions about another’s experiences before going on about my own?”

  “Exactly. I call this the two to one ratio: for every one question that someone asks you, be mindful to ask them two in return. Trust me it works wonders. If I could offer one piece of advice for how to make a first date go well, that would be it.”

  Pricilla and I connected a couple of days later around noon. For the first time, we spoke at length about her son, and after over a month of knowing her, I finally learned his name.

  In light of this, I told Pricilla that I appreciated that she didn’t define herself as only a mom, since being a mother should be a wonderful part of someone’s identity, not a substitution for it. But I also pointed out that she tended to shy away from talking about it altogether. I explained that being the only mother in the group gave her a unique kind of power and knowledge that she should be proud of. And speaking of pride, she had exceptional self-insight, exemplified by the personal workbook and exes’ feedback activity, but again, in both instances she had waited to share last, as if she didn’t have much to add to the conversation.

  Everything about Pricilla since we began the program begged the question, “Why are you so afraid to call attention to yourself?”

  “I guess if I think about it, being the center of attention as a child was never a positive experience for me. If you brought too much attention to yourself it was a problem, and if you were receiving a lot of attention it was because you did something bad. So I just prefer to stay out of the spotlight.”

  “Do you not step up because you think you have nothing to offer or because you are afraid people will think you have nothing to offer?”

  “A bit of both, I guess. I’m just scared people will judge me or that I’ll say something stupid or wrong. For example, a lot of times in the group I’ll have something I want to say, but it takes me so long to decide to do it, that by the time I’m ready to talk, the subject has changed. How do you stop second-guessing yourself?”

  “You don’t,” I said.

  This is something I made peace with a while ago: the human condition is designed for us to be progressive, not content. The same reason why there’s a new smartphone, new tallest building and new cure every other day is the exact same reason why there’s always going to be something about ourselves we don’t like. Think about it: when other mammals like cats and dogs have all their needs met—they’re safe from predators, they have shelter, they have food and water—what do they do? They find a patch of sun to nap in, chill out and wait for their owner to play with them. If humans were pets, they’d be trying to find ways to transform their beds into cannons. We are by nature constantly asking the question, how can this be better? The bright side is that this question challenges us to improve our lives. For example, if it weren’t for the person who thought, “I can’t take this shit!” we wouldn’t enjoy the luxury of toilet paper today. The downside of asking this question is that we’re rarely satisfied with our own reflection. Your critical voice and your innovative voice are the exact same thing—it’s what makes us dreamers, creators and yes, sometimes miserable as all hell.

  “You’ve just got to learn when that voice is hel
pful and when it’s a hindrance. For me, I mute my critical voice when I’m actively doing something and then I turn the volume back up as soon as I’m done and alone again. That being said, I don’t think the issue is just your voice, Pricilla. I think you’re keeping your mom’s trapped up there too.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she replied.

  “And don’t get me wrong, it can be good to take on the critical eye of others if it helps us improve, as we did with the ex’s exercise. But, if that person’s critical voice never shuts up, you need to find the mute button for the sake of your growth and sanity. In general, I’ll hear anyone out, but when it comes to making decisions, I only take heed to what happy people have to say. You have to ask yourself, if your mom or anyone else who has put this doubt in you, is happy with themselves.”

  Pricilla sighed. “I know you hate it when people just agree because that’s the mark of the shadow type, but I don’t know what else to say because I do agree. So just know that I hear you.”

  “Okay, good.”

  I had to accept that being heard by Pricilla may be the best I was going to get. Like Maya had pointed out, she always left me wanting to hear more from her, but I was grateful for the honesty and vulnerability she had shared. Plus, even though change is the only constant in the world, that doesn’t mean transformations should be instant. When it comes to changing your character it’s more realistic to expect that process will happen at the same speed that rocks turn to sand. Of course, I hoped the program would speed up that erosion, but hope is all you can do when it comes to someone else’s personal journey.

  For the remainder of our conversation Pricilla remained adamant that she was better off in the background as a support system, not as a leader. In a romantic partnership she wanted someone who was looking for a cheerleader and possibly a coach, not a starting player.

  I asked her the question I posed to Stephanie. “When are you at your happiest? When you are leading or when you are being led?”

  She said, “When I’m being supportive.”

  “Okay,” I said, getting the message. “I do think you could step up your role as a supporter. People naturally look to you for approval, so try to be mindful of that.”

  “I can do that,” she replied.

  You could probably do anything if you let yourself try, I thought.

  LAST BUT NOT LEAST, CHERISE AND I WERE FINALLY ABLE TO MAKE TIME TO connect. Given that our relationship had been the least fluid in the group this was the conversation that I was most nervous about. But taking my own advice to Maya, I didn’t mention that. Instead I tackled that elephant from a different direction by explaining that our choppy relationship was actually a good thing because it allowed me to get a clearer picture of what’s been holding her back in the dating space.

  “I just want you to note that while I’m talking about our personal experience, I’ve taken none of this personally. My purpose in your life is to help you. I appreciate that you show up and that you’ve been willing to at least try everything, but I don’t know if you’ve liked or found value in any of it. You have never said a kind thing to me. You seem closed off to showing gratitude, but I’ve noticed your comfort in issuing criticism.”

  Cherise cleared her throat. “I mean, I used to be nice and open with everyone, but I’ve gotten burned so many times. I’ve been in abusive relationships and I’ve had friends backstab me. I also grew up watching my mother be so kind to my father and he’d just turn around and abuse her and then verbally abuse all of us.”

  That response threw me for a bit of a loop, but I rolled with it. I affirmed the importance of protecting herself from disturbed and manipulative people. But I asked if it was possible that using that same approach for everyone was hurtful to those trying to do good in her life. As I was.

  “I mean, maybe but in regard to me not saying thank you to you, I just figured you were doing things for the project, and they are things you outlined from the beginning you’d be doing. It never really felt personal. Like, I don’t think, Wow, look what she’s done for me.”

  I explained to her something that I had already said a few times to the group: good habits are worth way more than perfect incidents. Meaning, if someone does something for you that’s kind of what you like, it’s more to your benefit to applaud them than to red-marker them. Otherwise you run the risk that person may stop altogether, in fear that you aren’t pleased with anything that they do. If you asked me what Cherise did not like, I could tell you, but what she did? I had zero clue, so I asked again.

  “It’s hard to say. Look, everything also happens so fast and it’s like we’re always on to the next thing without getting time to absorb it,” she continued. “Like, how are we supposed to put any of these things into practice if we barely have time to understand it?”

  I explained that with any program, the pace is going to work great for some and not so great for others. In our group, I felt there were two people who had really kept up and excelled, two who were somewhere in the middle and one other person who also felt a little overwhelmed.

  “We can always go back or slow down, depending on your needs. I’m available in between group meetups too. We can even work on that now, what are some of the things you’re still struggling with?”

  “How to talk to people, I guess. But then again, sometimes I don’t want to be talked to. There isn’t a perfect way to say this but as a beautiful woman, people come and talk to me all the time. It’s hard for me because people always notice me and then they feel compelled to start a conversation even when there’s nothing to say. I just wanna be in the cut sometimes, just observing. I don’t always want so much attention.”

  Again, I pointed out that she was placing the focus on the negative. I noted that even through her Self-Summary Workbook, which was the most vulnerable I’d seen her, what was often missing from her recounts was an upside or actionable solution. It’s great to know what you don’t want, but you can also express that by sharing what you do. This is the yum vs. yuck approach. For example, if someone is not a killer kisser you can say, Yuck, can you stop opening your mouth so wide because you’re dripping saliva everywhere. Or you can say, Yum, I love it when you kiss me with your lips slightly parted because it gives me just enough of you, while leaving me wanting more.

  “I don’t know how to be anything else but honest and it’s taken me a while to get that way. If people do some fuck shit, I let them know right away. I used to let things slide but now I let someone know as soon as they step out of line.”

  “Trust me,” I affirmed. “I am not one of those positive-thoughts-only people. I’m not telling you to ignore your feelings or to manipulate your truth, I’m just saying there’s a lot of good out there and just like you had to make a conscious effort to start discussing what bothers you, you may have to start making that same effort to be more positive.”

  In a stunning turn of events, she didn’t rush to defend this time. Instead she just said, “All right, I can appreciate that. I can receive that.”

  We spoke for some time longer: I asked her about her opinion on the other women in the group, her friendships, and we talked a bit about her career. At the two-hour mark I gave her an out to end the call and reiterated she could call me anytime if she needed more guidance.

  She took the out but before she left, she offered an olive branch: “I just wanna say thank you and I do appreciate your time, I know we’ve been talking for a couple hours. And you know, I am grateful to be a part of this and I’m glad I said fuck it and signed up for this. I really am.”

  “Thank you for saying that. That really does mean a lot coming from you. And I’m grateful you are a part of this too; I think you bring something very unique to the group.”

  And that time, I also genuinely meant every word.

  That night, Cherise sent over a couple of assignments she hadn’t completed and responded to a slew of emails I figured she had been too busy to read. With that phone call completed, Phase Two was now official
ly over. But, as Cherise had pointed out, this program’s schedule didn’t leave a lot of time for tarrying. The next step was all about learning and that included bringing together a series of dating experts from a variety of fields, to ensure they had the best information, in order to bring their best to the table. In short, my butt needed to get back to my desk and back to work!

  As I refocused my mind on how far we still had to go, I got an insanely beautiful reminder that for at least one person, we had come a hell of a long way:

  Ok, so go ahead and put me on a payment plan for your services because with our call you gave me a confidence that I wouldn’t have been able to build on my own. I legit feel marketable and datable now. You lifted this huge-ass weight and gloomy cloud I was walking around with. Ok let me go, ’cause I’m like seriously crying and having a huge emotional release right now. You are so refreshing and inspiring and say the simplest things that create positive massive waves of great change. You’re literally a caffeinated iced tea! Thank you!! Thank you so much, Shannon.

  —Courtney

  And while it would be grand to end the chapter with that, there’s more to this story. Two days after my call with Cherise an email with the subject line This isn’t for me came in. She cited her departure due to several things but mostly focused on one: she felt the program was filled with too much criticism that she didn’t like or need.

  I sent a response to request that we talk it out. I encouraged her to stick with the process because she had come so far, and even if things didn’t make sense now, in the end they would. Unfortunately, she never responded. Although it hurt to lose her on this journey, I was also able to see the beautiful irony in the timing of her email: everyone else had gotten their harsh review, why shouldn’t I have also gotten mine? Cherise’s perspective that no one should have to change, again, was a popular one and who knows, maybe even the correct one for her. Neither of us had a glimpse into the future, and I truly hoped that she eventually would find the right fit for her, on terms she felt good about.