It is remarkable how often I listen to clients worrying themselves sick over people who don’t even seem to like them.
The other day a woman complained she didn’t know how to handle a guy who’d treated her like something under his shoe. He didn’t call, didn’t pay attention to her life or any of the issues she was facing at work or with her family. He pretty much just talked, and cared, about himself.
But she couldn’t seem to get over him.
He called again, wanted to get together.
“Should I see him?” She asked me.
The answer was obvious. Every time she’d given in – and it had happened plenty – the same pattern played out. He was considerate and nice for a week or two, then went back to the same old routine of ignoring her needs and focusing entirely on himself.
I told her she needed greater wisdom than I could summon. She needed to listen to Barry Manilow.
You probably have some sort of opinion regarding the creative output of Barry Manilow – which is to say you probably either love his music or you hate it.
If you love it – really, really love it – then you’re a “fanilow,” a Barry Manilow super-fan.
A friend of mine visited Las Vegas last year with his two elderly aunts, and – mostly to humor them – went to see Barry Manilow play at one of the big resort hotels. He posted his response up on Facebook: “I’m a fanilow!”
He was wowed – like plenty of people who actually go to see this hard-working, talented performer who gives everything he’s got on stage.
Barry loves his fanilows. He thanks them, he signs their programs, he tells them again and again that he owes them everything, that they’re the reason he can keep on performing and doing what he loves. They love him – and he loves them right back.
On the other hand, I read an interview a few years back where the reporter got a bit snarky with Barry, hinting that his music was widely dismissed as camp, mere sugary trash. I don’t remember Barry’s precise words, but he said something like this: “I take my work very seriously, and if you aren’t going to treat it with respect, I’ll end this interview right now.”
He had a point, and he made it. Barry Manilow does what he loves, and there are many people who celebrate him for it. He doesn’t need the haters.
You can learn from Barry Manilow.
I received the following letter concerning the tricky business of maintaining a relationship:
LGBT people confront widespread hatred, yet each year take new strides towards equality. What’s the secret?
One of my patients gets together sometimes for lunch with his ex. It’s always awkward, he says, and a bit melancholy, but there’s something nice about it, too, and so it’s become a ritual.
The next day she took out some old photos from their time together, and had a good cry.
My patient was in a tizzy about a relationship:
I’m amazed at how quickly my patients begin to feel overwhelmed by relationships. That happens because they rush things – stare out at the distant horizon instead of staying in the moment and concentrating on today, the time you’re sharing right now with another person.
There’s no rush to get “established” in a relationship. A relationship never has to be anything other than a choice you’re making because you’re enjoying it – something you want to do, today, for yourself.
This week’s question was a bit long, but it raised interesting issues, so I’ll print it in full:
I promise to learn how to be a better partner to you every day.
The People's Therapist 