Making progress
Now widowed and wondering how to navigate my newly single state, I begin to realize that flirting might actually be a normal activity; aversion to flirting possibly a pretext. I play with the idea of actually looking someone in the eye when he gazes dreamily at me, instead of glancing behind me to see who he’s looking at. I start to look at men on the street and consider whether I like the look of them. Some look back. Others, I tell myself, are merely distracted by their iPods.
I start to think about flirting all the time. I poll my neighbours as I walk around the block. They can’t shut up about it. I’ve unleashed a dam of rumination — about flirting! “I always eat at home,” says one long-married actress, confessing a lifelong commitment to flirting. “But I like to look in the window of nice restaurants, if you know what I mean.” I think about that. Someone suggests I go to Texas, where flirting is practically a sport and no one worries about being misinterpreted.
I begin to get what Coco means. Flirting is simply a way we can harmlessly reach out to others, to connect with the world around us. We use it to make friends, do business, make ourselves comfortable in strange situations and finally, at the bottom of the list, for romance or sex. Coco says we should flirt in simple situations, regularly exercise our “flirting muscle,” so that when the stakes are higher — when we really want to engage with someone — it will seem effortless.
Flirt therapy
But it is hard to shake my old perceptions. Flirting still feels slightly cheesy to me. I am muddled. I need to talk to Coco, one-on-one.
I call her up and we meet for coffee at a local spot. I watch her enter, survey the room, breathe, then, smiling, push forward, searching for my face. Just like she told us to do at parties.
“I’ve heard a lot of women say they’re afraid to seem too sexual, that they’re really afraid of being judged,” offers Coco. “But we live in a sexist society and we don’t look at the way men use sexual power. Any alpha male is partly getting his power with his penis. But when women do it, it isn’t okay.
“That’s why women wait around for somebody to flirt with them. There’s this idea that submissive femininity is more attractive, more allowable than taking the initiative.”
I tell Coco about having crushes on boys in high school and pointedly never talking to them. That old thing about good girls never getting what they fight for. The more Coco nods supportively, the more I tell her. This is more than coffee, I realize. It’s therapy.
“Oh my gosh, Coco,” I say at last. “I’m really ‘on the couch’ here with you!”
“I think you’ve just got to break out,” she says. “There are risks and rewards in everything you do.”
