After the hourlong drive from Trieste, I parked the car, hurriedly paid the meter, and casually-coolly-quickly-sauntered to the beach promenade. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I looked down to my phone to re-check where to meet him. Glancing back up, suddenly I was taken aback.
It was one of the loveliest beaches I had seen in weeks. Spread wide and long, with beautiful large stretches of sand. Arrays of white seats and deep-blue umbrellas. The space was mainly empty, pristine, creating a very calm moment.
Perhaps lovely also, in my imprinted memory, in part because I had been anticipating this rendezvous.
Monroe is, yes, another Italian friend and slightly-older colleague from my London past. Like Norman, I had last seen in London in January pre-covid times. Like Norman, I’d had feelings for him but never told him, because he had a partner. (Hey, I’m consistent!) Monroe is dynamic, full of love for others, very sarcastically humorous, and was extraordinarily supportive of me during some rough patches in London. In pre-30d30d days I wasn’t as good at articulating my feelings as I am now, so I had kept the feelings at bay, built a solid friendship, and enjoyed it for what it was.
We had been periodically zooming during covid times, and my Italy trip took me through his wife’s home province where he was bunkered down. He now invited me to a beach day with both of them. I took it as an opportunity to grow our friendship. It would be neat to see Monroe on his home turf!
Scanning the horizon, I spotted someone waving at me. There, at the edge of the white chairs. Standing tall in swim trunks, with flowy hair. Perhaps finishing a cigarette? Yep that would be Monroe.
The three of us had a nice long chat over lunch, then we walked to the old town and had an apero together. And over the course of this, something amazing happened. I simply got to know his wife. And I loved her. So much so, whatever spell I used to feel was broken. I related more to her than to him at times. Our bond even just from sharing one afternoon was strong enough to elicit a change. Under that new context, the three of us shared a beautiful afternoon.
I later got into reading the book ‘Personality Types’ by Don Richard Riso, which led to some ahas related to my Monroe beach meetup. First, this sort of authority-figure crush (Monroe wasn’t the first one) seemed linked to an absence of validation I experienced in childhood (yes, a bit cliche)–I’d guess a side effect of my parents’ attempts to teach me humility by not over-praising my accomplishments. The details in the book relating to my situation were remarkably specific and on target. Now that I’m hyper-aware of this, as well as confident that I can get past it, it seems easier not to fall into the trap again.
Which leads me to the second aha–that a great, easy go-to way to break such a cycle in the future is: get to know and love the crush’s partner :).