Marianna was the first and the last member I dragged into the club by the scruff of the neck. I actually have few "frustration" friends, and those I do have are usually seeing somebody successfully. So when I had finished Sasha's profiling, I first had a brief bout of despair — where on earth was I going to conjure up a suitable woman for him? — and then a moment of illumination: I knew the suitable woman personally. The only trouble was that the suitable woman considered herself too good for dating clubs of that sort.
Background: The stories are published from the feedback we received and with our clients’ consent. The names have been deliberately changed. At the end you will find a counsellor’s commentary analysing the relationship.
Skip to the counsellor’s commentaryThat, in fact, was probably the trouble with absolutely all my acquaintances of this personality type. They are the cleverest and most interesting of people, whose lives were usually full of all sorts of adventures, travels, unexpected turns and unplanned events, but the adventure called "register with a dating club" they all, to a man, took up in arms against. My ex-boyfriend, forever in an on-and-off search for a lady of his heart and even regularly finding one; a friend of my husband's with whom we regularly staged heated intellectual debates on topics with no bearing on reality; and, of course, Marianna herself.
- I simply haven't got anybody else! You are the only one! And if you don't help me, he will kill me, honestly! — that was my first attempt at motivation with the help of the S-Theory.
The thing was that Sasha flatly refused to sit and wait for the weather at sea, having got it into his head that since he had come to us, we ought to supply him with his ideal partner almost at once. Being of the same personality type as Sasha myself, I knew perfectly well how good we are at doing people's heads in when we consider that the end justifies the means, and just then, deep down, I even felt proud of my personality type. Even though I was standing "in the front rank" and taking the hit myself.
- Who will kill you? — Marianna did not follow.
- Your ideal partner.
- There is no such thing, or else they are hopeless masochists! — she snapped.
- Well, I have got one, and a very belligerent one at that. Are you going to rescue me or not? You are in a pause between relationships anyway.
- A pause is not a lost cause!
- Listen, I am not asking you to marry him! — I resorted to another way of manipulating that might work on people of Marianna's personality type. — You will have a chat, you will honestly send him packing and he will stop doing my head in. It is nothing! And you will be rescuing me! Besides, aren't you curious yourself to see what talking to your supposedly ideal partner would be like?
I suspected that I was taking a big risk, but the attempt to play down the importance of the matter really did help. Wrinkling her nose and pulling faces, Marianna came to the conclusion that there could be nothing terrible about simply meeting somebody, and so graciously allowed me to pass her contacts on to Sasha. Sasha rang her the same day.
As he said later, he was extremely curious about what talking to a "perfectly matching" woman would be like, and that was probably what saved the whole thing. Marianna honestly planned to get rid of him as fast as possible, but not only did he give her no excuse, he also suddenly drew her into a discussion of some extremely interesting subject. When an hour and a half had flown by unnoticed and they finally hung up, Marianna knew two things for certain: she was not going to send him packing, and she was not going to date him either. After the conversation Sasha knew that yes, there really had been no need to look for a common language, but whether anything long-term could come of it remained a mystery. Marianna gave absolutely no impression of being somebody who needed a relationship. But the sheer volume of knowledge in her head was mesmerising, and it would have been silly to lose sight of people like that.
They became friends on social networks, where a sort of study of who was capable of what carried on, and every time there turned out to be more common topics. Of course, the S-Theory cannot guarantee common topics, only ease of contact, but in this case it seemed astonishing that they had not met earlier. Sasha, who had successfully picked up my signature schizo-paranoid line — "I have no fear of intimacy, I just don't see why I should get close to idiots" — understood that whoever was in front of him, she was no idiot. Marianna laughed that she had thought I was the bore, but Sasha had outdone me, and that talking to him was incredibly interesting.
They discussed it perfectly honestly and sincerely resolved that nothing serious would come of this relationship. And, incredibly cheered by such a prospect of a wonderful friendship, they began to spend even more time together. They went on day trips out of town, drove around to various events, sat up late brainstorming projects for Sasha's firm and talked for hours about the most varied subjects. In between, Sasha even wrote us a letter asking us to go on looking for a girlfriend for him, since Marianna was wonderful, but nothing serious would ever come of it with her.
Their romance developed in secret from themselves. They both sincerely believed that what tied them together was an entirely unserious relationship, and that it would never become serious. Their acquaintances, myself among them, began to notice that these two sometimes spoke a language entirely their own — Russian, apparently, but such that nobody else could tell what it was about. Half mumbling, half fragments of phrases and words, and then both of them would suddenly burst into gales of laughter at something the people around them could only guess at. At the same time Marianna somehow miraculously came to know where Sasha kept his things, what he needed to take with him and what he would need a second from now. She managed to look after him quite unobtrusively and without making a burden of it, seeing nothing at all reprehensible in it, because after all everything between them was unserious. It seemed they did not notice themselves how the intonation of Sasha's voice changed the moment he turned to Marianna. They did not notice the stream of creativity and enthusiasm Marianna poured out the moment she began talking about Sasha's projects. They did not even notice how much more tolerant and accommodating Marianna suddenly became when Sasha was speaking.
Neither of them ever understood at what point their romance moved into its open phase. Marianna put it astonishingly well:
- Nothing serious, but for a long time, somehow turns automatically into serious, and long since.
It was not clear whether they had noticed the moment of transition or had decided that it had already happened and it was too late to bolt. What was clear was that these two could no longer do without each other, and Marianna only laughed at her own plans not to start anything serious with Sasha.
- Goodness knows how many silly things I have done in my life! — she waved it away.
- That is not so important, the main thing is that a hopeless masochist has turned up after all, — Sasha snorted.
By this time they were both giving everything they had to promoting Sasha's firm, and creativity was gradually giving way to bureaucracy. The routine at work told on their relationship too, for which there was less and less time. Marianna was excellent at delegating and at working out who was to do what, so that there would be enough time for Sasha as well. Sasha had no such skill whatsoever, taking on more and more and working at the very limit of his capacity. In the end he had no time for Marianna at all. And then Marianna simply moved out.
- We never planned for this to be serious, — she said.
- But it has become serious! — Sasha objected.
- A mistake, probably. It would have been better if it had stayed unserious and undemanding!
- Can you really not be patient for a little while? Our routine will settle down soon...
- I will be patient, but separately. And you come round when you have time for me again.
Sasha really did find the time. It took him several weeks to work out clear rules for himself, and soon he asked Marianna out for coffee again, and then on a trip to Crete. They both loved travelling very much, and alas, lately there had been no time for it at all. Lying on a beach of pink sand (in fact the only pink part was a thin strip along the surf), they agreed that they would, in all seriousness, carry on their entirely unserious relationship, because the other way round somehow does not work.
Counsellor’s commentary
Marianna is the frustration personality type according to the S-Theory. The foundation of her personality is an inner prohibition on a fast, sudden, unconsidered start and on finishing, on achieving; she will be putting the brakes on all the time. A characteristic feature is that they put the brakes on in the things they consider important, while in small matters they start and finish tasks without any problem at all. It was precisely this playing down of the importance that helped to persuade her to meet Sasha. She has a need for unhurriedness, for thinking every action through, since it is better not to do something important than to do it, better not to say than to say; and she has an aversion to formality, pomposity, excessive strictness and seriousness. She does not trust logic, she comes to know things through personal experience and has difficulty accepting the negative results of her actions and responsibility for her decisions. It is characteristic of her to let deadlines slide, and to fulfil agreements and arrangements late or not at all.
Sasha is the schizoid personality type according to the S-Theory. The foundation of his personality type is the ideational, symbolic content of his inner world. There are too many experiences and feelings, yet most of them do not come out, are not let out as emotions. They are transformed into intricate ideational and symbolic structures, and only then are they shown to anybody. Besides this, Sasha is characterised by an all-embracing, all-encompassing wish to realise his overvalued ideas, which often diverge from the real needs of the organism, of the body, and also by a difficulty in expressing his own wishes. It is easier to say what he does not want. A rigidity of territorial and personal boundaries, the defence of them, and a self-removal from society that borders on rejection of it and on arrogance. He always emphasises his freedom and independence and his control over his own life.
This can be a very beautiful romance. Stable relationships are theoretically possible, but it is built against the background of a creative union; realising that union comes first, and she stays in the second role.
A frustration woman in such a romance becomes more active, her creativity awakens, and he likes that. She accustoms him to being cared for, to the idea that he can be looked after without being smothered. Usually a schizoid man sees care as a restriction of his freedom and takes it as smothering. A frustration woman is often very passive when it comes to cooking, and in such a relationship a love of cooking suddenly wakes up in her. This is not a maternal position, it is precisely a position of care.
Schizoids breach other people's boundaries easily but are very sensitive about their own. She is able to live on such territory without disturbing his boundaries much; she senses clearly when he is busy with things that really matter to him and when he is in a corner. When he starts winding himself up, she grounds him. She is very sensual and at the same time not very emotional. To the point where she may have a fixed set of facial expressions.
The romance develops very beautifully, sometimes unexpectedly for those around them. They create together beautifully and creatively. And at some point they become fixed on each other. They may start talking to each other in a way that creates their own space, fencing themselves off from all the rest of reality. And other people feel superfluous and drift away.
