She puts it all on the line. She tells him she wants more from the relationship than what he's offering. She wants a white-horse-riding hero to save her and run off with her for a happily-ever-after ending.
"That's impossible," he says. He can't make the commitment she wants. So she leaves. Soon after, romantic music blaring, he pulls up in a white limo, climbs her fire escape, embraces her and says he's ready for her happily ever after. The end.
Yeah right! It may have worked like that for Julia Roberts and Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, but if you're waiting for your Prince Charming to beckon you back, you may be waiting from here until the end, for real. Being as open and vulnerable as Roberts' Vivian was when she told Gere's Edward she wanted more is a movie moment that can be duplicated in real life with one exception — the outcome. Reality's outcome could be something you'll never see in the movies. In fact, acting the fool for love could be one of the last scenes you'll ever star in, but one of the best scenes you'll ever play.
Life imitates art, but not so artfully
Recently, a friend was telling a group of women about her own Richard Gere-type romance. He was illusive, inconsistent and stubborn with his feelings and commitments. But in the same breath, she said she hadn't had so much fun or felt so comfortable with someone in a long time. She liked him immensely. Her friends were ecstatic. She emphasized that she didn't know what it all meant, but that she was willing to explore it.
They encouraged her with clichés: Be open with him. Lay it all on the line. How else will he know how you feel if you don't tell him? You have to be vulnerable.
This word "vulnerable" was one she despised. It seemed weak, meager and pathetic. She didn't like the thought of it, not one bit. But all of her friends were married. Maybe they knew something she didn't. So, a la the movies, she tried it.
Peace out, I'm outta here honey!
She drove straight to his house. As she was on her way in, he was on his way out. She told him how she felt, what she wanted from the relationship and why. It was all out there. However, as fast as it was out there, so, too, was he — out the door and off to his dinner, no emotions and no explanations. She left alone, feeling horribly humbled.
It all happened so quickly. Her first vulnerability experiment had come and gone. It was strange and foreign — like an out-of-body experience, both slightly euphoric and slightly horrific. As the night and the next day settled in, so, too, did the grim realization that her man in question remained in question. He wouldn't be coming on his white horse to sweep her up and take her away. It wasn't like the movies at all. What a mistake ... or was it?
Mother knows best
"It is far easier to be tough and not let anyone know how you feel," her mother said. "There are many people who just continue with this tough act through their entire life. But all they get in return is just what they give — tough love and ultimately loneliness even if they end up with someone, they are lonely." To which her daughter responded, "Well, if being vulnerable isn't reciprocated, then the person feels rejected. Doesn't that rejection have the same effect on a person they just become more and more tough, less apt to be vulnerable and ultimately more alone?"
Her mother explained that risk-taking in love is the same as risk-taking in life, friendships and careers. Any new venture where you can be vulnerable and rejected is a risk. The most successful people in business take risks. She explained that the same holds true for risk-reward relationships like love. When you try something that most wouldn't, you can also get something that most wouldn't.
"If you're thinking it is the guy you are going to get, that's short-sighted," her mother pointed out. "What you'll get is even better.
"Being bold and vulnerable will teach you that if you don't get what you deserve, then you deserve better."
So maybe the movies have their storybook endings all wrong. Playing the fool for love may be the smartest foolish move you'll ever make. The end.