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I don’t flirt. No, I really don’t. It is a behavioral dynamic of mine that has frustrated many of the single young female party animal types I have gone clubbin’ with throughout the years (and possibly any number of men, though I have no direct complaints to verify that hypothesis as I do in regards to the ladies). In a funny kind of way, it’s a lot like being a voluntary nondrinker in a crowd of drinkers–some of them earnestly try to enlighten you on what you’re missing out on (and get really pushy about you “giving it a try, c’mon!”), some of them simply roll their eyes in amused contempt at your perceived prudery and/or cowardice, and the rest actually get angry at you at the moral judgment of their behavior that they have decided your refusal to engage in the same behavior must be demonstrating.

There are several reasons that I don’t flirt. One, I am by nature a reserved and introverted person. I can be warm and outgoing–it’s a skill I have perfected over the years, to the point that, now, I am generally laughed at if I happen to mention in passing that I am indeed desperately shy and have been my entire life. I had to develop these skills–they are a prerequisite for succeeding in America, land of the worshipful regard for the Good Team Player. However, it exhausts me and I am always quite tense and cringing inside, regardless of the perfection of the facade I present (the unmistakeable signs of social anxiety, as I’m sure all my fellow-sufferers are desperately familiar with as well). So, flirting is simply another level of a type of social interaction that I have had to force myself to perfect and engage in for going on decades now–clearly, hitching it up another notch when I don’t have to is not going to appeal to me.

Two, I don’t dare flirt. It is highly inadvisable for me to ever do anything to encourage a man to think that I might possibly have any carnal interest in him whatsoever, now or ever. On a really regular basis, my mere presence in the visual field of a man–the fact that I’m (a) physically nearby and (b) breathing and (c) not immediately going elsewhere–is enough, apparently, to give him hope that I might possibly want to have sex with him someday. If I so much as make eye contact, more than half the time, that’s enough to have him practically jump into my lap and start telling me all about the business/boat/truck/stocks/house/etc. he owns and/or what great shape he’s currently in the process of getting into. (And God forbid I should crack the smallest of polite smiles.) I really, really don’t dare do anything more that might possibly be construed as encouragement. And no, this is not just a problem in bars or dance clubs, as one might suppose–I just started a new job and it’s already starting to rear its irritating head there as an issue. (Aside: one would think that the fact that I am clearly being paid to hang out there might be a clue that I am not actually wondering around the job site just hoping to stumble across my dream man, but apparently, the hope in some breasts never dies.)

Three, I have very strict internal standards in regards to fidelity, both sexual and emotional. If I am in a relationship where we have both agreed to be exclusive, I can’t be morally comfortable with even the appearance of myself giving any romantic or sexual encouragement to another person. I know that a lot of folks are devoted to the “fun” of flirting and will likely take deep offense at the idea that there’s any real harm to it–but honestly, I’ve seen it turn out to be harmful in the vast majority of situations where the flirtation goes both ways. (Admittedly, not when it goes one way only, but then, what you’re doing by flirting with the unresponsive is being an irritating jerk–this is regardless of your gender.) I am not opening that door, thanks but no thanks. And it must be admitted that I have spent the vast majority of my sexually active years in one “exclusive” relationship or another. Flirting has come up when I have been uncommitted and therefore free to do whatever I want, but if I am aware that the would-be flirter is involved in one himself (and he quite often is), the same strict standards will not allow me to engage in that behavior with him. I can’t bring myself to knowingly encourage behavior that might be damaging to someone else–there are plenty of unattached men in the world with which to fulfill any flirtatious desires I might have. There can be no justification for engaging in it with someone at another’s expense.

What do you think of flirting? Do you enjoy it, and if so under what circumstances? Are you unusually good or unusually bad at it? Has flirting ever gotten you in trouble, either with others or with yourself? Share, share!

(This is all Hugo’s fault, by the way.)

This entry was posted on Monday, March 9th, 2009 at 3:16 pm and is filed under Asides, Philosophisizining, Relationships. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.