Dear Ms. Behavior: I wasn’t interested in Rick when I first met him and I told him so, but he convinced me to have dinner with him. He pursued me for weeks, sending me presents, pouring on the charm, trying hard to please me. It seemed over the top, but my friends insisted that Rick seemed like someone who would treat me really well for a change. For instance, when he noticed my taste in international beer, he sent me an expensive subscription to a beer-of-the-month club. I mentioned I liked old movies and he shipped me a box of classic DVDs. If I tell him that something bothers me, he always promises not to do it again, whatever it is.
This is great on the surface; however, Rick’s focus on me feels obsessive and addictive and I don’t think I want to see him anymore. My friends say that I don’t know how to have a good time. What do you think? Should I give it a whirl even though it makes me feel truly queasy? — Lavished
Dear Lavished:
Humans have been given the gift of queasiness to prevent them from doing unsafe things, like standing too close to the edge of canyons or having sex with llamas. Queasiness is a wake-up call. You can feel queasy for a lot of reasons, but unless you’re pregnant, none of them are good.
Your friends want you to be happy and believe you deserve to be with someone nice. Rick seems “nice” but perhaps his obsequious style leaves you feeling aware of the difference between kindness and desperation. When someone focuses only on pleasing you, you can’t always see who he is.
People pleasers can be creepy, not just because they’re sometimes serial killers in the movies, but also because they are jiggly squishy. You can spend years with them before their real personalities emerge, and often it’s not pretty when they do.
So, trust your instincts. Step away from the llama.
Dear Ms. Behavior:
I’ve never been good at ending relationships, so I typically waste years of my life and then regret it. I’ve been with my current girlfriend Megan for six months and have begun noticing signs that we’re not right for each other. We don’t live together, so it shouldn’t be hard to break up, but I don’t know how.
I tried to end it last night. I started by saying how much I care for her and that I don’t want to hurt her. By the time I got to the breakup part, she changed the subject and I didn’t have the heart to follow through. But I don’t want to drag this out for eternity and I do want to get on with my life. Do you have breakup advice? — Bored
Dear Bored:
If breaking up were easy, no one would write Dear John letters or Just Slip Out the Back, Jack.
First, don’t start by saying how much you care; instead, start by saying that it’s not working for you. If you know that you truly lack the fortitude to lay it out and leave — and you don’t want to stay stuck for another five or 20 years — you may need a more gradual breakup plan:
Begin by letting the little crises in your work life take precedence. Spend more time with your friends. Develop a yoga practice. This way, when Megan calls to get together, you can truthfully tell her you’re very busy.
Ultimately, you can suggest that the two of you need “a break.” You can also call it “a breather,” which sounds more athletic and less threatening. Then you can ease from your breather into a full-blown breakup. But whatever you do, don’t let it take more than a month.
If she asks if you’re breaking up, don’t lie. Assume that if she’s asking, she’s ready to hear the truth. Of course, if she wants to know why you’re ending it, you should be kind, and not say, “You bore the crap out of me” or “The sound of your chewing makes me want to die.” Be kind, be firm, be on your way out.
Meryl Cohn is the author of “‘Do What I Say’: Ms. Behavior’s Guide to Gay and Lesbian Etiquette” (Houghton Mifflin). E-mail her at [email protected] or visit www.msbehavior.com.