The Mean Reds

Audrey with her cure.     Source: Google Images

 

Some of you might see the subject of this blog and think it refers to that cute little ailment (or severe depression?) Audrey Hepburn coined in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” Some may think it refers to that time of the month—which, come to think of it, makes a lot of sense. Okay, I’ll give you that one. But this blog is about that relationship-killing, general-discomfort-giving feeling one gets at uncertain times. Or, as Audrey describes it, “suddenly you’re afraid, but you’re not sure what you’re afraid of.” It’s not medical enough to be serious, and it’s not casual enough to be dismissed. It’s just in-between, and it’s there.

Phew! That was a dark, stormy rain cloud of an opener. Trust me, though, it will pour forth a torrent of glorious blog. This is about that beginning phase of relationships, a time when your status is unclear, you constantly debate if the other person is into you and it seems any one piece of straw will break the camel’s back. (Or at least the beginning phase of relationships for OCD-prone people. Ahem.)

So the question of the week, courtesy of BJ (whose name I will perpetually allude to in abbreviated form just for the giggles), is how do you cure the Mean Reds?

Careless, extravagant Holly Golightly (seriously, if you’re not getting the references by now I can’t help you) went to Tiffany’s. Seriously though, those of us (all of us) not fortunate enough to attend Tiffany’s on a regular basis will require an alternative antidote.

Soapbox aside to my target audience: Yes, there are those of us who shop at Tiffany’s. Those who request minor little baubles from our BFs, who buy ourselves the tiniest of tiny diamond earrings or thinnest of silver chains just to say they are from Tiffany’s. (For the record, I am not alluding to myself; those who know me can vouch that I prefer gaudy, brummagem jewelry. BOOM! Word of the day.) Let me tell you something—nobody your age can tell if those diamonds are real, and nobody cares that they are from Tiffany’s. Word out.

On the real (I think I’ve been watching too much Sh*t White Girls Say to Black Girls), I have given this a lot of thought and the answer, I believe, is communication. This is not easy for blossoming relationships, when you want to seem cool and detached, like you always have a 3 p.m. meeting to run off to or a call you HAVE to take. Nobody wants to be the one who dives in the pool first and splashes the person just testing the water with their toe (ugh, so annoying), but everyone wants to know what the other person is thinking.

How about, instead of playing it cool and letting anxiety consume you, you tell the other person how you feel? Trust me, this is an ego-driven society; nobody will be upset to hear that someone likes them. If they don’t like you back it may be uncomfortable, but it would never have worked anyway. Plus, it’s a lot more comfortable than the Mean Reds, which is what that unhindered anxiety will lead to.

As further proof of this theory, take a closer look at the Mean Reds: they truly are the antithesis of communication. You can’t communicate to yourself how you feel, you’re unsure of what others around you are thinking but you can’t ask, and you don’t know what you want. (I mean, these are the basic tenets of being a girl, but that’s a subject for another blog.) Quod erat demonstrandum—the cure for anti-communication is communication.

I referred to the ‘Reds as relationship killers because they are. To conclude, a little flow chart action, if you will. (I’d prefer a little Venn diagram action as I’ve been really into them lately, but I certainly do not know how to html that ish.) 

Flirting → call → date → call back → date → a couple days → call back → a couple more days → call back → a week → anxiety → ‘should I call?’ → more anxiety → ‘I’ll just call’ → date → ‘does he/she really like me?’ → even more anxiety → THE MEAN REDS. 

(Feel free to use my flow chart or Venn diagram ideas to diagram your feelings for your significant other—doesn’t get much clearer than this. It’s all science! You can’t stop it.)