Walking as my main form of transportation has many positives, like how today I saw a missing dog poster that read “Shy, DO NOT CHASE!” It reminds me of what I used to repeat to myself when building connections with others, a reminder of an innocent-enough mission to remain focused on the activities and communities I value. Perusing the hot cement pathways around my corner of Pasadena lets me become acquainted with neighborhood pets, political pole propaganda, missing posters, and the ridiculously philosophical connections I write in my notes app.
Lovers are often compared to dogs. As in some of my favorite, most devastating songs, I relate to having been “like a dog with a bird at your door” (“Moon Song” by Phoebe Bridgers) just as much as I used to empathize with Mitski’s “I Bet On Losing Dogs.” They appear as innocent, gullible creatures who lack agency or the instinct required for self-preservation. Ideally, everyone would feel as confident and unabashed as a golden retriever when it comes to navigating relationships. The reality is most people in my generation behave like the shy german shepherd mix who is currently the neighborhood’s most advertised celebrity. Like most shelter dogs and runaways, the shepherd learned to be wary of strangers. But isn’t the most cheerful, expressive, open dog in the shelter the one that finds home the quickest?
For the past few months, I slowly (and, for the most part, mentally) re-entered the world of romantic possibility. After a year straight of renouncing all possibilities of me wanting a relationship, I admitted that restricting myself was a reaction to a bad situation which was not empowering or putting me in a space to grow into a future partner. As someone whose attachment style occasionally veered anxious, my response to being repeatedly taken advantage of was to find solace in avoidant tendencies and isolation. Still, an equal and opposite force that flings your heart feet away from all potential connections will never be the solution.
After attempting all approaches to romantic intimacy (or the lack thereof), I still believe maintaining openness is a well-practiced superpower, and revolutionary kindness will always be the muscle I work to build at the root of my approach to all relationships, platonic or otherwise. Despite struggling to define and implement healthy relationships in my early adult years, I feel my best when I can look back and feel proud of how I resolved negative situations, seeing that I did the best I could to maintain a connection without sacrificing my own dignity.
However, as I type this I also recognize that I have never been a fully innocent or perfect party. Sometimes a golden can be overzealous. She can get a bit reckless, believing she is only playing. Sometimes she hurts a paw and has to limp for a while, but her tail still wags with the promise that she will heal. Sometimes she eagerly embraces her companion only to find her dull, concrete-filed claws left a mark on soft, vulnerable arms. That’s okay. She’ll know when to come back with her puppy-dog pupils and a promise that she’ll do better next time, both for herself and the well-being of those she loves. And she’ll know when to walk away. I want to be her. I’m excited.
You are an amazing writer. Wow.