I’m addicted to flirting! I’ll admit it, I’m guilty of it. I’m fixated by the attention I get from men when I flirt with them. I’ll pretty much flirt with any man of any age, if I know I can get something out of them. When I was a young adult, I became aware of my womanly charms and how I could use them to get attention from men — attention that I didn’t get from my father. I never, ever thought that I would be the type of woman who would use her “charms” to get attention from men. In college I was referred to as a “tease.” I would say that’s a fair description of my behavior because I like to flirt but never follow through with any physical interaction.

When I began my job on the East Coast, I was working in close proximity to members of the U.S. Navy. In a previous post, I declared my pacifist tendencies, but I have to admit I’m a sucker for a man in dress-whites. Among the sailors I got the reputation of being standoffish because I didn’t want to get involved with a rank-and-file sailor. I would hang out with a chosen few and flirt with them in front of their shipmates, but never get physical with them – not even a kiss. I didn’t want to be just girl in another port. I’m not a “eff ‘em and leave ‘em” kind of girl, and I certainly didn’t want to be the talk of their command when I was working so closely with the crew. Then I met Rich.

Rich was the first sailor to see past my standoffishness and flirt back with tenacity. At first I enjoyed flirting with Rich, but the more insistent he got about asking me out, I figured that he was under some sort of bet with his shipmates to see if he could bed me. He would come and visit me at my evening restaurant job, hanging out to chat and flirt with me. When I was fired from my job (the one that involved working closely with the Navy), he was right there to be my friend and console me.

One night we went out for drinks. Of course my inhibitions were down due to the alcohol and my recent dressing down by my former employer. We were sitting on the waterfront on a warm summer evening, under a beautiful moon. He said to me, “What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you just do what feels right for right now?” I’m usually the type of person who analyzes every situation before jumping in (and usually my analysis backfires on me anyway), but I threw caution to the wind and kissed him.

Our relationship, if one could call it that, ebbed and flowed over the next year. I would push him away and then go back to him when I was in need of some attention. The sex was good, but we had nothing else in common. He only had a high school degree with a couple of semesters of community college under his belt. Rich wasn’t ignorant, and was always interested in what I had to say. Many times he would try to engage me in a conversation about why I kept pushing him away. Finally, I had to be honest with him – imagine that, honesty! I told him that I didn’t think we had much in common, that I didn’t want to live as a military spouse, and I felt that we were on two different paths in life – he liked to go get drunk with his shipmates, and I liked to go to the ballet. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be dissuaded.

The sex was really good, but after the last time we had sex, I finally smacked myself upside the head. I was literally standing naked in my bedroom (I had never seen the inside of his house), and Rich was in the bathroom. I had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t right, it didn’t feel good. It was all I could do not to push him out of my house and jump in the shower.

I’ve never been the type of woman who wanted to be held while I slept – never will be, I love to spread out in bed. After sex, I like to cuddle and then retreat to our corners for undisturbed sleep. This worked to my advantage that night as I rolled away from Rich and went to sleep. The next morning he got up early and left for work. After I phoned him a few days later to explain that it was over for good, I never saw him again.

So my conscience was able to stop me from repeating self-destructive behavior. I’ve got to get a handle on the attention/flirting thing so that I don’t keep attracting the type of men that I don’t want to be in relationships with. This translates into not going out a lot, learning to get accustomed to being alone, and looking for constructive ways to get attention from men/my father. (I’m still working on that one.)

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    Last reviewed: 15 Feb 2010