It saves both time and energy if the lovers-to-be could form a relationship with each other efficiently and rationally. So why is the courting game such a complicated and sometimes protracted process?
The answer to this question lies in the functions that this indirect contact-making fulfill. From the perspective of emotional logic, in fact, it is highly rational and meaningful for people to make contact in this way (Motivational Work, part 1: Values and Theory, pages 109 – 159).
One of these functions is the defense: protection against being openly rejected. Making approaches to the object of desire is a profoundly personal act. If the feelings are not mutual, we feel rebuffed on a personal level, and suffer accordingly without anything to hide behind or blame.
So we avoid this open rejection by not making ourselves vulnerable with explicit shows of interest. Instead, we hide our tentative approaches behind a protective mask, denying the other person the opportunity to reject us as we have not made our love explicit. We also turn the mask to ourselves, so that we remain partly or even wholly unaware of our true intentions. If we are then rejected, we feel no pain as there are no acknowledged feelings of love upon which the other can trample. Put briefly, we hide our opening gambits from our intended and ourselves to protect ourselves from pain.
Aggression
Aggression, for example, is an attempt at contact that places the enamored out of the rejection danger zone. Instead of displaying interest by playing a positive opening gambit, he makes a show of actually disliking the other person. He is in denial of his own love and appears fractious and undesirous of further contact; being thus unaware of his true feelings, he is able to avoid the pain of rejection should these feelings be unrequited. It is simply a relief to avoid any further contact, and if the other party is also aggressive, it is confirmed that both feel the same hostility towards each other.
The man with the snowball (see blog: “Falling in Love: Aggression”) seems intent only on being a nuisance and, at best, taunting his victim; and judging by her response, it would seem that she genuinely feels indignant at his audacity. Neither of the parties needs to risk being openly rejected.
Withdrawing Contact
Similarly, the “withdrawal” gambit spares the enamor the pain of open rejection. In showing no interest in contact and experiencing no love himself, he does not have to deal with the disappointment of unrequited feelings.
The woman at the back of the room (see blog: “Falling in Love: Withdrawing Contact”) in which the actor has given his talk is also in no danger of being openly rejected. As far as she is concerned, she is totally indifferent towards him and undesirous of contact.
Compliance
Making contact through compliance fulfills the same function as the other gambits. The individual finds himself suddenly interested in, say, poetry without realizing that his newfound interest has been fired by a young lady who is an admirer of Byron or Dickinson. This allows him to avoid the danger of open rejection as he is, after all, simply interested in poetry and nothing else. If she happens to reject him, it is because of some other obstacle between them, such as their appreciation of different poetic genres.
The woman who develops an interest in jogging (see blog: Falling in Love: Conciliation”) can do so on both a conscious and an unconscious level. Whichever it is, her interest is not observably about love but about keeping fit, and in this way, she avoids open rejection. If the relationship does not continue, the relationship will be remembered as the outcome of a shared interest in exercise, nothing more, and neither of them needs to feel rejected.
The relationship between the TV-watching slob and his woman friend (see blog: “Falling in Love: Conciliation”) is also “interest-based” in the sense that he denies his love for the sport and conforms to what he believes is her interest profile. To the casual observer, their relationship is also one of shared interest rather than love.
