To look him in the eye
Holly Warburton
There is a man that volunteers as a tutor at my work. I am not attracted to him, but I also struggle to look him in the eye. He is probably in his thirties. Being around men near my age has always made me acutely aware of myself, their proximity to me and whether or not their intention is to move nearer to me. / A few weeks ago it snowed. He asked me if we had a shovel because he wanted to clean off the sidewalk. I was flustered by the attention, said I don’t think we have one, and was left irritated by his offer. On my drive home from work, I understood the source of my irritation: I don’t trust his kindness. His generosity must be a means to an end, right? I have known men who mask their intentions with actions that distract from the truth. A few times, I have found myself questioning why he would even be volunteering here. What is he trying to gain? More specifically, is he trying to get something from me? / I am not overly confident by any means - I do not believe men think I’m beautiful or smart or funny. Any inkling I have about a man desiring me is actually a fear, a distrust of their intentions. Perhaps this hyper vigilance borders on paranoia, because once, I wondered if he saw my photo on the website and that’s what brought him to tutoring. / These thoughts feel irrational because they are, but they are here nonetheless. I do not always believe them, but my body does. I feel them in my heart palpitations and the flush in my cheeks and the lack of breath I remember to breathe.
It was my coworkers last day on Thursday. He is my age. I have always been aware of the words we exchange and the physical space we both are occupying. Last week, another coworker made a joke about him thinking I’m cute. I pretended not to hear. The buffer of being coworkers was boundaried enough to give me a sense of safety. On his last day, that buffer was disappearing. I felt my dreaded feelings bubbling to the surface. They are what I feel around most men my age: bare, afraid, threatened. My internal wall was coming up as we neared clock-out time. By the end of the day, I had a hard time looking him in the eye. I left quickly. / It is dangerous to be around a man without a natural buffer in place. I seek these buffers out in all my relationships with men. I am most comfortable around those who have a girlfriend or wife because there is an obstacle in their way towards me. An obstacle I can rely on should they decide to come closer. / I feel a sense of shame about not having genuinely said bye, good luck on your next adventure. I am often left shameful about how I act when that wall has inserted itself between me and others.
My cousin messaged me that one of her friends has a crush on me and wants her to put in a good word for him. I asked her if this was a joke. I know the woman he dated before. She is the opposite of how I see myself. She is refined, petite, bubbly, sexual, confident, undamaged, beautiful, uncomplicated. I cannot reconcile that he could be both attracted to her and me. There are times when I don’t shave my legs for three weeks. Her and I are opposite ends of the spectrum. / Sometimes (most times) I do not believe that I am real to others when I am not in their company - sometimes it shocks me that I am real to people at all. I would never have imagined that this man even knew my name. / I have looked in the mirror a lot this weekend. Often, I view myself from the perspective of what someone else would see - meaning, what a man would see. More specifically, I am evaluating if a man would desire what he was observing. This weekend I have done that more. I have looked at myself and wondered genuinely how I am perceived. My interpretation of myself has always felt true and aware and honest. What if I am wrong?
All of these occurrences imbue me with the desire to avoid writing about them. They are embarrassing, dramatic. If I were to speak these aloud to another woman, I would feel like a twelve year old with a crush taking her worries to a recently divorced single mom. That is to say, I feel childish - like these moments should not hold such weight for me. I am so scared of others seeing me as a child make-believing her way into the adult world. I am always waiting to be banished.