In the Beginning: the Birth of a Non-Dating Guru

by

Nona Beaumont

            A few months ago, I gave up talking to men. Not that it had ever been a huge pastime of mine. Kind of like my habit of “giving up dieting for Lent,” or “giving up shopping,” when a closer examination would reveal the bank accounts are empty and the credit cards are maxed. Saying that we “give up” something, instead of that we “can’t have” something, creates the illusion of power, of choice. Having problems with delusion? Be strong, proactive, powerful: Choose illusion!

            My giving up talking to men did not happen by simple default. It was a very deliberate, and very specific, decision -- a choice I made the day my [male] therapist kicked me out of therapy. Ever since that day, I have had the best conversations with men. It has been so good that I decided to write this book to share my secret.

I guess I should start with the specifics -- defining terms is always important, and even more so in a world where everyone is lying. So, I’m going to try to shake off the delusion that is so common it’s like air. I’m going to be honest. And you are fortunate to have found this book, because just like everyone is breathing, everyone is lying to you (except me, of course).

You may ask, “Nona, how do you reconcile the fact that you say ‘I’ve given up talking to men,’ and then go on to also say that you now have the best conversations ever with men? That seems contradictory -- even crazy. Why should we listen to you?” Good questions. Now stop pretending you already know the answers and we just might get somewhere.

It’s really more about perspective. The fact that these conversations have for the most part been “imaginary” is incidental. Some people have real conversations with imaginary people. THAT is crazy. You see them shuffling around in twenty layers of clothing, kicking a can as they mumble to someone who isn’t there. What I do is the exact opposite, and therefore, I conclude, it is perfectly sane:

             I have imaginary conversations with real people. Doing so keeps your toes dipped in reality while not causing passers by to cross to the opposite side of the street for fear of tripping on your imaginary buddy’s imaginary knapsack; plus, it’s so much safer than having real conversations with real people -- they will only hurt you... like my therapist hurt me the day I gave up talking to men.

The above is an excerpt from the introduction to my introductory book. 

Follow this blog for up-to-date publication announcements, invitations to live events, and much more.

Happy FALL ~ Time to Autumn in Love?

Happy Fall!!!

Speaking of Fall, I know what you’re all thinking: Why can’t we stop using that term for a season that comes around every blasted year and reminds us of what we lack?!!

“Autumn” is so much nicer. It doesn’t remind us of our relationship statuses (or would that be statusi?) Autumn is pleasant because it avoids ambiguity. There is no noun/verb confusion:

Nobody Autumns in Love.

Speaking of the verb, why do people “fall” in love anyway? 

Falling seldom has a positive connotation. We think of skinned knees, getting tripped up and snagged in traps, of lost respect, the human race doomed to deception and eternal darkness... and love???

That brings to mind some of the online infomercials for programs that promise to teach women how to make any man fall hopelessly, head-over-heels in love--so much so that he will follow her around like a stupefied puppy, hanging on her every word and every move and every breath, ready to do ANYTHING she asks like a hypnotized robot honed in on a magnetic tracking device embedded in her heart. These programs have many names, but I can’t help thinking the best name of all would be “How to Train Your Stalker.” [I’ll add that to my “books to write” queue. Look for it in the near future.]

Now, I'd like to ask you to help me help more people. Become part of a movement... 

If you have any friends who are longing to FALL IN LOVE, please invite them to “friend” me, too. 

Together we can make this a season of realism in which we refuse to ignore our skinned knees, allowing the wounds to fester and become infected. 

xoxo,

Nona

PS. I apologize for asking, but please like and comment on each post in order to increase audience  engagement which increases visibility. (Which has the unfortunate side effect of reminding me of my own invisibility and lack of an engagement ring.)