Trampolining Love

Adventure Girl bounces back

We all know about the rebound effect. Heart torn, ego shattered, we desperately want to feel the upward rush of replacement love, or at least a new almost-crush. Anything to fill that gaping hole of hurt (or according to Dr Helen Fisher, of Rutgers University in New Jersey, to get our next dopamine fix).

Chances are, the first person to fill that void is not the most likely long-term partner, but rather, someone easy, someone gentle, someone safe (or in the case of the Attachment-Avoider or Commitment-Phobe, someone completely unobtainable). Either way, Mr (or Ms) New is ultimately, not for you.

I tend to oscillate between a Mr Bad and a Mr Safe (though one of these days Mr Bad will surely rip me into so many shreds I’ll turn to Mr Unobtainable. I was almost there, once, having an obsessive crush on someone young enough to break the Half-Plus-Seven Rule. At the first sign that something might actually happen between us, I ran away, screaming).

Because I bounce from one extreme to the other, being acted upon, rather than acting on, it ends up feeling like a constant state of inertia. I don't act, I react. Heart torn, I retreat to a Mr Safe. Mr Safe waits for me to recover. He is kind, he is besotted, and though I might grow to love him, I am not in love with him.

From safety I grow restless and long for the excitement and risk of a Mr Bad. I crave the in-love feeling of dopamine. I may even create drama within the stillness, like an artificial stimulant. If I can’t feel in-love, let me feel the imitation cocaine-effect of a make-up... and eventually (always) a break-up.

If I'm lucky, I will find a Mr New who also resembles a Mr Bad, so I can fall in love all over again.

One day I hope the lessons learned from this constant back and forth will even out my cravings, that I will find someone who excites me who is also relatively safe. Like when you decide to stop bouncing on a trampoline. The push-offs get smaller and smaller, until you come to a complete stop, only you are right where you want to be, whether that's on your own, or with Mr Just-Right.

But it isn't only the dopamine-cravings that keep me jumping. According to descriptors of my personality type (Myers Briggs-style,  if you believe that stuff), I have a tendency to 'striv[e] for the Ultimate Relationship', and will 'fall into the habit of moving from relationship to relationship, always in search of a more perfect partner'. To make matters worse, I also have 'difficulty leaving a bad relationship'.

It's this combination of perfectionist and idealist (mixed with some attachment-anxiety, according to a psychologist friend) that will keep me reading that 'Use-by' date as a 'Best Before'.

One lesson I have learned that I can share, is that like wine, no matter how good a relationship is when you first get it, once it's past its peak, it will start to taste a whole lot like vinegar. Let's hope I find a Mr Just-Right before I have to taste that again.

-AG

Tappin' the glass

Rhonda Perky visits life's aquarium to find out what makes Tappers tick

You've seen those annoying people at aquariums, the ones who walk up to the glass and tap tap tap, over and over, just to stir up a response? For some people this need finds its way into everyday life. They can’t seem to help themselves, tap tap tapping away oustide the glass cage of a relationship.

Tappers can be found in various forms. A typical manifestation is the Blonde Coquette who bangs on about how much she loves banging to her male co-worker. He hasn't seen the other side of his wife's flannelette nightie since Christmas 1993.

Then there’s the Insincere Ingénue who claims she can't get enough of going down to the guy whose girlfriend thinks it's 'gross', all the while watching him salivate, eyes alight.

See also the Single Sister, whose tap is a boast about how much she loves anal. This one tends to tap at her sibling’s partner or girlfriends’ husbands.

Tap tap tap.

In its least sinister form, Tappin' the Glass can be a fun game for you and your partner (if you have one). An innocent tap here and there can help prop up your ego (and theirs).


How to play:

1. Find your location – anywhere Miserable Marrieds go. I’ve found the best spots to be shopping malls in Boganburbia, the local family bistro, a Saturday morning at Bunnings, or a Thursday night at Ikea.
2. Spot your targets – prime exhibits include the Nagger and the Whipped, or the Heffer and her Frog.
3. Tap away – if you're with your other half, take one each, and start making eyes.

Tap tap tap.

At first your targets will startle: Is he/she really looking at me? Then watch the body language change. For her, a flick of the hair, her hips tilting, tits perking. She'll try to pretend she doesn't keep looking back. His voice will begin to boom, one hand on his hip, the other gesticulating at the merchandise, all knowledgeable: a sudden expert on the two-by-four or the circular saw.

This glass tapping is a win-win encounter. You (and your partner) ride the satisfaction from your tapping getting a response, while your target(s) go home and shag themselves silly with rekindled belief in their pulling power.

Caution:

If played with the wrong types, tapping can quickly escalate from an innocuous ego prop, posing a genuine risk to the Tapper or their Target.

Take the Turtle-Tapper. Typically a coupled-up woman who keeps a constant Backup-Boy (the ‘turtle’). She would never actually go there, so she picks the safest terrarium she can find. Behind the double-glazing is someone older, someone uglier, sometimes single, oftentimes not. This tap is all about security. The Turtle-Tapper needs to know she has options.

The loser in this situation is the Turtle. By the time he makes it to the glass, the Turtle-Tapper is supervising her husband building their new deck, while he is left standing, possibly with an abandoned wife, beating his head against the inside wall.

In its most dangerous form, Tappers turn into Breakers. Having the target look their way and contemplate isn’t enough to sustain these damaged egos, so Breakers head straight for the Python enclosure, find the glass that is fragile and cracked, and tap tap tap, until finally it breaks.

Breakers are your archetypal Commitment-Phobes. They can't settle in a relationship with someone who is actually free to want them. It's far too risky. So Breakers take satisfaction from knowing they can tempt someone away from their partner without the risk of real rejection. The target is not free to choose, so they can never not choose them.

To the Python, Breakers seem like good-time girls, but at their core they are the most destructive. They won’t just set the Pythons free, they will use their toxic venom to bite back, then swiftly move on to the next cage.

Conclusion:

If you do choose to visit the life's aquarium, be sure to play safely and tamely. An innocent tap here and there can certainly provide a mutual ego boost, but you don't want to find yourself being someone's Turtle, unleashing a Python, or ending up a victim to a Breakers bite.

-RP