It’s Not You, It’s Me: How Our Brains Betray Us
I used to believe that I “had a broken picker,” when it came to relationships. It’s a common phrase used for those drawn to the incompatible, which can range from mildly unsuitable to actively toxic.
It’s also an odd phrase, when unpacked. It sounds self-reflective, and yet it’s ultimately blaming: the other person is broken. They are the bad pick. It puts the shoe on the other foot, as it were.
Then one day a different idea hit me:
What if I was the broken pick?
I came to this realization the good, old-fashioned way — by running into the same wall for the hundredth time. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been blessed with enough luck or self-preservation never to fall for a truly bad hat. But I did spend a lot of time chasing unavailable people with whom, when we finally got together, I realized weren’t a great fit. At best, we didn’t have that much in common. At worst, a few were actively shifty.
I was like a fisherman who would feel a tug and pull, not knowing whether there was a prize-winning bass or an old tire at the other end of the line. And yet this wasn’t my fault.
It was my picker.
Everything came to a head when I found myself embroiled in a bizarre parody of a relationship– a “non-relationship,” as it were…
