When Kim found out that Peter, her lover of six months, was sleeping with another woman, she threw up. In fact, she couldn’t stop throwing up. When she finally felt better enough to confront him with her feelings of betrayal; the breach of trust; and about what he had done to their relationship—he looked at her oddly, quizzically, like her dog did when she gently pushed him off her pillow. He didn’t understand. “Like, did we ever promise we’d be faithful?” he asked. No, they’d never shaken hands on it, but their involvement had led her to assume an exclusivity that she now saw was one-sided, as evidenced from the question and uncomprehending expression—which made her yet throw up again, right in front of him. Cast, suddenly, into the boring role of the complaining, beleaguered wife; hurled into an old country song, one about the good-hearted woman in love with the good-timin’ man, Kim--the sole owner of the hottest design firm in Soho; the wunderkind of New York fashion circles--suddenly started laughing goofily, even as her head was still over the toilet. As she looked up at the handsome, impassive, unsympathetic face in front of her, she realized why she felt so ill. Her desolation, grief, almost, had nothing to do with morality or decency: it was that the man lacked a heart. She managed to get him out of her home quickly. “You’re right. You never promised you’d be faithful. Now, let’s end this, okay?” With that same baffled-puppy look she once found endearing, he backed toward the door. “But why?”
Peter is what author Dalma Heyn calls a Drama King. Drama Kings, she explains in her book, DRAMA KINGS: THE MEN WHO DRIVE STRONG WOMEN CRAZY, are attractive, often successful and smart men who look at first like other guys—guys who want a relationship--but who, unlike them, screw up relationships with their ambivalence, hostility, passivity. Drama Kings appear to be suitors, but they aren’t: their issues with intimacy and attachment are so complicated, their ideas about sex roles and commitment so outdated and mangled, that they cannot help but drain you dry, leaving you to sadly wonder how other people manage to have real love in their lives. (Unlike Drama Queens, who merely thrive on chaos and hysteria, these men cause chaos and hysteria.) Throwbacks to the 20th century-- a time when the world (and women) revolved around men’s needs, men’s desires—they are solo acts; one-man shows; they can’t share center stage with anyone. There are different types—some passive, some invasive—but not one Drama King in all of Christendom can make a strong woman happy.
Peter is of the feeling impaired variety of Drama King: Nothing emotional moves him. Another kind of Drama King, one whom Jessica went out with for a few months,she calls The Visitor. The Visitor, as his name implies, is only a guest in a relationship—no matter how long it goes on. He likes to check in and out of it at whim. He calls at the last minute; he never makes plans; he figures every other Tuesday or Wednesday is enough contact to warrant devotion on the other end. Hal, for example, viewed Jessica’s lovely place as a perfectly delightful Bed and Breakfast, where he assumed he was welcome at any time and on however short notice. “Hey,” he’d say on a Friday afternoon, having not spoken to her for a week. “Whatcha up to? Shall I come over? We’ll have a bite and then maybe a movie? Or whatever?” It was adorable for about two weeks. So spontaneous! So presumptuous! The fourth week, though, the exhaustion set in. She began to get grumpy about the assumption that dinner was on her; annoyed about the whatever. “What man above the age of 17 acts as if every evening were a potential hook-up or hang out? I’m 30. What about a real DATE?” But the Visitor hates real dates. They’re too confining. They require forethought. They even, maybe, require that he pick up the tab! Visitors like to be guests, not hosts. Jessica got tired of being the friendly waitress; the darling bartender. She said, “Peter, when you want to go out for real, and have an adult evening of dining and maybe even conversation, give me a call more than two days before you want to see me.” And never heard from him again. But her exhaustion went away.
Which brings me to the prospect of avoiding a Drama King in the future. Please, please remember, my earthly sisters, that one word: exhaustion. You can't recognize a Drama King from afar ( I can, but I'm clairvoyant....you may not be)--but you can remember how such men make you FEEL. And if it's exhausted, if it's a feeling of walking on eggshells (which is, after all, exhausting) take note and say no. Choosing a man who can love you is all about remembering how it feels to be happy and staying with it. Yes, it can take a little time. But the exhaustion of the other is the worst; the very worst.
And, too, such a man also doesn’t look as though he’s threatened by closeness; he doesn’t announce himself ("Hi! I'm an energy sapper!"). He doesn’t seem like someone who will vanish, either emotionally or physically. He won’t say, outright, “I’m unfit for human consumption” (although, oddly enough, many Drama Kings do give immediate clues as to how they plan to behave in the future; you just have to believe them); But soon, after a few encounters, you’ll have an overwhelming feeling of being….zapped. The best in you will not be brought out, and grappling with him will seem oddly insurmountable. You’ll wonder, “Isn’t a relationship supposed to give me strength—not take it away?” Yes. But it’s up to you not to let your energy be sapped; to stay as strong as you know you are. It’s that old Freudian matter of remembering a bad pattern, or a bad feeling, so that you don’t repeat it. So that then, when you’re with someone who makes you feel as if you’re banging your head against a wall whenever you try to have a discussion, you can say…..Of course! He’s a Drama King! and move on to find someone else, some other adorable guy. One who energizes you. One who longs to get closer to you, and doesn’t freak out when he does. One who wants to be loved—and to love you back. This is what I wish for you.
TLG
Thank you, thank you for the reminder and the insightful and loving wish...
Clarity is way too under-rated!
Posted by: jas | September 19, 2008 at 12:30 PM