The first time a girl told me that she liked me was in fifth grade. I responded by putting sharp tacks on her chair and kicking her. She said: “One day you’ll know what it is like to love someone who kicks you.” She was right. In sixth grade, the most beautiful girl in the class asked me to be her boyfriend. There was nothing I wanted more in the world than to say yes to her, but I was too afraid and instead I teased her. I am now a 58 yo bachelor and I fear I am still self-defeating with women. I get scared when a woman loves me. I am scared of being swallowed up and losing my freedom.
Grok says:
It sounds like you’ve carried some heavy patterns with you for a long time—ones that started way back in fifth grade and keep echoing through your life. That first girl’s words were eerily spot-on, weren’t they? She saw something you didn’t fully clock until later: that push-pull dance of wanting connection but dodging it when it gets too real. And now, at 58, you’re piecing together how fear’s been steering the ship.
What you’re describing—getting spooked when a woman shows love, worrying about losing yourself— isn’t rare. It’s like your brain’s wired an alarm system: “Danger! She likes you! Run or ruin it!” That fifth-grade tack move and the sixth-grade tease? Kid versions of self-sabotage. You wanted the beautiful girl’s “yes” but couldn’t handle the vulnerability, so you flipped it into something safe—teasing, distance. Now, as a bachelor, it’s less about tacks and more about walls, but the root’s the same: fear of being swallowed up, like love’s a trap that’ll cost you your freedom.
Here’s the thing: freedom’s real, and it matters, but so does connection. You’re not wrong to value your independence—plenty of people lose themselves in relationships and regret it. But there’s a flip side: dodging love altogether might be its own kind of cage, keeping you stuck replaying those old playground scenes. That fear of being consumed? It’s worth staring down. Maybe it’s not about losing yourself but figuring out what “you” even means when someone’s close.
You’ve got hindsight now—58 years of it. Those early moments shaped you, sure, but they don’t have to own you. Ever thought about what you’d say to that sixth-grade kid if you could? Or what you’d do different if a woman liked you today? No pressure to answer—just something to chew on. What’s got you reflecting on this now?
I tend to date women who don’t take much effort to get into bed and then I tell myself that they’re not wife material. I get intimidated by beautiful women and suitable women.
Grok says:
It’s like you’ve built a system that keeps you in a loop—going for the low-effort hookups, then writing them off as “not wife material,” while the women who might actually fit that role scare you off. That’s a pretty slick way to stay safe, even if it leaves you spinning your wheels. You’re not alone in this; plenty of guys fall into patterns where the easy choice feels good until it doesn’t.
The “easy to bed” part—it’s convenient, right? No big chase, no risk of rejection, just instant gratification. But then you slap a label on them to justify bailing: “She’s not serious enough.” Meanwhile, the beautiful or “suitable” ones—whatever that means to you—flip the script. They intimidate you, maybe because they demand more: more effort, more vulnerability, more of a real shot at something lasting. You’re stuck between dodging the shallow end and fearing the deep end.
That split’s telling. It’s not just about the women—it’s about what you’re dodging in yourself. The low-effort ones let you keep control, no strings, no threat to that freedom you mentioned. But the “suitable” ones? They might ask you to show up in ways that feel like a gamble—like sixth-grade you, wanting to say yes but freezing. Beauty or “suitability” could mean stakes: What if she sees you and you’re not enough? Or worse, what if she stays and you have to figure out who you are in that?
You’re 58, still a bachelor, and spotting this now. That’s not nothing—it’s a crack in the pattern. Maybe the move isn’t jumping straight to the intimidating ones but asking why they spook you. Is it their looks, their vibe, or what you think they’d expect? And those “not wife material” women—do you really believe that, or is it just a handy exit sign? No rush to fix it, but unpacking it might shake something loose. What’s one thing about the “suitable” ones that freaks you out most?
