Because You Don’t Have To

Because you don’t have to,
you will.

Turn Down Dates — Just Say No! Article

Just Say No! Why And How To Turn Down Dates – And How To Respond – In Dating

Is it hard to turn down dates? In the 80’s, First Lady Nancy Reagan’s anti-drug campaign had the slogan: “Just Say NO!” While it’s great advice for both women and men in on-line and in-person dating, it seems to be a lost art.

Based on personal experience and discussions with hundreds of women and men, this article on how to turn down dates explores:

• Why we don’t say no (and what we do instead)
• Why say no at all (and why not NOT say no)
• How to say no
• What no means (and doesn’t mean)
• What no enables us to do
• How to accept no

Why We Don’t Say No (And What We Do Instead)

If you’ve been involved in post-divorce dating at all, you’ve probably experienced this: You find someone attractive and interesting. You approach them on-line with a well-thought-out, mildly funny and interesting “first e-mail”. You wait for a response. And wait. And wait.
Maybe you send another email. And wait …
Maddening, isn’t it?
It seems the preferred response method is to say … nothing.

Why do we do that? My own experience is that I think I don’t know how to say no well. Sometimes, I just can’t think of a good reason.

The most common response is simply: “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. If I don’t say anything, they’ll know I’m not interested, but I won’t hurt them.”

WRONG!

Why Say No At All (And Why Not NOT Say No)

If we truly want to be kind, and really believe in karma, we’ll do others the courtesy and the favor of saying no. We CAN turn down dates!

Let that sink in.

Rather than hurting people by saying no, we’re actually doing them a favor!

Here’s why: Most adults in the post-divorce dating world EXPERIENCE REJECTION. We’re divorced! We’ve been rejected! If we’ve dated, we have had our share of turn downs. We can take it. Though it might sting for a while, we’ll be okay and move on.

In contrast, receiving no answer (i.e., silence) is painful. It makes us wonder several things, none of which are accurate:

• Did my message not go through?
• Did I say something wrong / stupid / silly?
• Am I not attractive / worthy enough?
• What’s wrong with me that they won’t at least respond?
• Is s/he saying “no” now, but leaving the door open for later?

In my experience (and those of others I’ve talked with), if you don’t say no, 80% of the time (or more) you’ll get repeated requests. Do you really want that? I’m a fan of when folks turn down dates. Saying no is actually less painful for all involved!

How To Say No

Now that we understand why saying no can be a good, healthy thing for all involved, here is, in my mind, a great way to say no, (and why it’s so good).

“Thank you for contacting me.” (The person acknowledges my efforts.) “In looking over your profile” (indicates the person at least made some effort to read what I took the effort to write,) “I can really see you have a [some positive statement here].” (It makes me feel good about who I am, and softens what comes next.) “However, I don’t feel that we are a good match.” (I can’t deny a person’s feelings. This is a definitive NO statement. If you want to be even clearer, add on: “So, thank you, but no.) “You seem like a great person” (again, making me feel good about who I am) “and I wish us both success in finding the one right for us!” (Makes me remember that I’m not trying to please everyone, I just want to please one who’s right for me).

Other variations include: “I received your email. Thank you, but no.”
“I don’t think we’re a good match, so no thank you.”
“I don’t think we’re a good match, for these reasons: [reasons are listed].” (I personally dislike this answer, because the person receiving it will often argue and try to prove the sender wrong. It’s easier to say no without a reason except “a feeling”).
“I just met someone.” (if it’s true).

What No Means (And Doesn’t Mean)

Here’s something you must learn and internalize. It took me years to understand:
No means No.

It doesn’t mean:

• You’re ugly/weird/stupid
• You’re not worthy of me
• I don’t like you
• Nobody will like you
• You’re not in my league
• Ewwww, cooties!

It simply means no. Deal with it. Move on.

What No Enables Us To Do

You’ve received a “No.” You hurt a little. Although we may not like getting rejected, No is actually a very empowering word. Why?

It lets us move on.

Silence makes us wonder. Giving reasons “why not” leads to arguing. No lets us say: “Okay, next!”

An old sales adage says: “Every no brings us closer to yes.” As much as we hate to admit it, dating today is a numbers game. The more people we contact, the more rejection we may get, BUT the more likely we are to get the final “YES!” we are looking for.

How To Accept No

A common complaint I hear, especially from women, is: “I don’t want to say no. When I do, the guy will argue with me, or come back and say hurtful, insulting things. So I say nothing.”

First off: Men! Seriously? Do you think you’ll change her mind with insults? In fact, because the dating community is so small, you’ll probably nuke any chances of ANYONE saying “Yes.”

The polite response is to acknowledge their no, and give them encouragement in return. A brief response, such as: “Thank you for at least responding. I wish us both good luck in our search.” is an indication of good manners … and creates good karma!

What’s Next In No-Man’s/No-Woman’s Land?

Now you know the reasons to say no, AND you have examples, don’t be afraid to use them. When you get a “No”, simply say “Thank you.” and move on. It’s not personal, AND you’ve just gotten that much closer to the person you really want in your life, because they want you in theirs.

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This was an article published in early 2014 in DivorcedSinglesNews.com. Since the on-line magazine no longer exists (and since the issues involved in having to turn down dates still exist!), I’m republishing it here. It remains under my (c) Copyright, but may be reprinted with permission and reference.

David Kuhns is a web content writer and communications / marketing consultant. Single for several years, his advice is based on (sometimes painful) first-hand experience, mistakes he’s made, and discussions he’s had with hundreds of divorced, dating singles.
Update: After many turn down dates moved Kuhns through hundreds of potential dating prospects, a woman from Tennessee — who just happens to be a writer as well — responded to his very forward first email through an on-line dating website. He could hardly believe her profile (because she was so perfect for him), so he sent an email asking: “Are you for real?!!!?” The woman answered with a resounding “Yes!” He is now happily married and living a dream life, including running creative writing and business retreats on their acreage near Chattanooga, Tennessee, with his wife Marnie.

Warm Georgia Summer Evening Surprise: ImproVerse Blogging Haibun

From the inside, through my 1990’s shaded-design oval door window, it looked like recent Georgia sunsets: Cool, golden, breezy, comfortably worthy of a front-porch sit for a spell. I knew the frogs would be chirping and croaking and screeching melodically, there might be a whip-or-will or mocking bird or mourning dove singing joyfully at the setting sun, and various and sundry unidentified bugs would be rhytmically scraping and creeking and thrumming and whatever they do, lacing a deep-layered cacophony of sound like a grandmother’s old, well-worn quilt over the newly-mown hay and lawn and the soon-to-be-harvested gold-and-black-tassled corn in the field just beyond the broken-in-half hickory tree.

Surprise.

Stepping out onto the porch, the evening’s still, stiffling air laid on my face and arms like mold in a plastic bag full of what teenaged boys might call “garbage cheese” — not quite rotted into limberger, but still stenchy and pungent enough to make me want to avoid taking a deep, rich breath.

No breeze.

Instead, as I stood still and watched the sunset dapple through the aged oak and hickory trees, as I tried to revel in the natural symphony I’d expected, the damp-dank humid humors of the evening felt as if I was at the end of some God/Satan spraygun of tangible air-mist-grime-pollen. And no scents. Nothing to make breathing the languid vapors worthwhile. No sense of reward or joy or revelation. Just deep cotton-like vapors filling my nostrils and throat and lining my lungs.

I sat down anyway, rocked slowly the way one should on a Southern porch in late July, and waited for an evening breeze to come and wash away the fog-like depth of the moment so I could, at last, completely see-hear-taste-smell-feel-sense all-in-all around and through and in me.

And a distant owl hooted.

When unexpected/
nature clouds your mind, be still./
She’ll clear your senses.

Show Me By Your Experience: Revolutionary IMprov Prose

I once was working on a project at a very large company back in Seattle. Someone with considerably less experience than I had, (decades less,) came to my cubical and somewhat derisively suggested that I change the the way I was working on the project. She said I should try it another way that she had heard about.

In my experience, her way had never worked in any other place I’d ever seen it implemented, so I very calmly asked her if she had ever done it that way. She said no. I suggested that she go back to her desk and work on the project she was working on, in the way that she had suggested, and when she was done and the project was successful, she could come back and show me how to fix my project using her tried and proven methodologies. It wasn’t that I was not willing to listen to her, but I felt that I had more experience than she did, and she was trying to implement a pattern that had never been proven and that she had never used.

She never returned.

What if Trump’s recent comments are simply following good busines process? I think he’s say the same thing to some young apartment manager who came up to him and tried to tell him how to run one of Trump Plaza. That is what Trump said to four young Representatives. It wasn’t a racist comment. It was a business comment.

“Show us the proof, show us how to do it, and then we’ll listen. Oh, you don’t have any real-world experience? Go back to your workspace, go back to a place where you can implement those policies, where you have a blank canvas, and see if your suggestions and ideas work.

But don’t come into our work space, into a place that is following a pattern that has been relatively successful for more than 200 years, following rules which we believe are inspired, and tell us how much you hate our process, and our rules, and our results, and then tell us to try something that you’ve never even tried, and that you have no proof of it working anywhere else.”

Write What? Improv Free Verse

What happens if you’re supposed to write,

but you don’t know what to create about?
Do you just keep writing
until something comes?Is it like eating breakfast cereal?
You don’t really know why
or how much to eat,
but you know you have to fuel your body?

Is it like that except for your mind and soul?
I’ve seen that vision of
sitting on the stump in the woods and writing.

At this moment, though,
I’m stumped
as to what I should write about.
And it’s hot and humid
and the bugs are buzzing
and I once saw where Tennessee Williams
wrote A Streetcar Named Desire
in the old French Quarter in New Orleans
(I wrote a STELLA poem about it!)
and I wonder how he stood it

with no air conditioning,
sitting in a room
in a brick walk up
in the French Quarter’s
sweltering oppressive heat.Why does no great literature
come out of sub-zero freezing pain?
Can I, as a Yankee transplant,
tap into that creative energy
that oozes like sweat-made tea
and humidity,
that soaks the back of shirts
in Rorschach patterns
along the spines
of men and women?

Garden In The Bathtub Legacy: Revolutionary Family History Prose

There is an old family history story that my Grandma Bertha Geerdts Kuhns used to tell me about her father’s mother, a little old immigrant German lady who lived in Sheboygan Wisconsin at the turn of the century. My Grandma Bertha said that this woman (Maria Vogt or Weidt Geerdts) had chicken coops, a garden, but what Grandma Bertha most remembered about Maria Geerdts’ house in Sheboygan is that her large clawfoot bathtub was never used for bathing.

Instead, it was always full of garden plants.

Sometimes I wonder if my great-great Granny Geerdts is looking down on my giant jetted bathtub …
and smiling.

What A Difference A Year Makes: Revolutionary Prose Via Facebook

Facebook has a “Memory” feature which shows you what you were doing some year(s) ago. This morning I got a “memory” from one year ago (Feb. 6, 2017). To set the stage, about 3 weeks earlier, I’d made an offer on a cute little house just southwest of Downtown Salt Lake City. I was well qualified for it, had a decent contracting job as a trainer and writer (which helped me qualify to get the loan to buy the house), and my son was helping me get the mortage. Slam dunk, no brainer. BUT, about the last part of January, my contract suddenly ended. In otherwords, I was unemployed. As a result, the mortgage — which had been conditionally approved — was “unapproved.” And poof, just like that, the house of my dreams (I thought … or at least a cute house I could hold writer classes in), was someone else’s dream house. About a week later, Feb. 6th 2017, I wrote this (then read what I wrote today, afterwards!)
February 6, 2017 · Springville, UT ·
Two weeks ago I was certain I was going to move out of my small apartment into a 3-bedroom little Brick House with one previous owner, less than a couple hundred yards away from the International Peace Garden in Salt Lake City. Instead, last week, the sale fell through and I’m moving out of my apartment downstairs into one room basement apartment. Moral of the story? Life doesn’t always go the way you thought it would. Some may say I brought this on myself. One thing I can say is that I’m grateful for a roof over my head, lots of food in the fridge and freezer, hot running water, a car that works, and children who talk to me, a sense of what I’m about. No, it’s not where I thought I would be. In a lot of respects, it’s better.
This is what I wrote today, Feb. 6, 2018 — What a difference a year makes!
Wow. This memory (see above) blows me away. Why?
One year ago I was pretty sad about not getting the Salt Lake City house. And I was no longer working with Tom-Sircy Maggio (and others) at Eccovia Solutions! But I knew that Heavenly Father had a plan. HE told me things were going to be okay.
So what has happened in that year, from February 2017 until today? Shortly before that first posting, when everything was all falling apart, I started going to the LDS Temple. I decided to go for 100 days in a row. Then I got the impression, which I acted on, to go up to Seattle and work on selling my house in Kirkland. Through a lot of hard work from Camilla Kuhns and her mother, and thanks to realtor Erin Harold, we sold the house in June for significantly more than it was going to get when we first looked at putting it in the market in March and April.
During that time, I also worked a couple hours a day on my book (dealing with my “falling away” from the LDS Church, and how and why I repented and returned. But that’s another story). Thanks to Wendy Tinker, my friend, I had a place to stay to work on the house and the book. I finished the rough draft, and I’m now working on the final edits and getting it ready to be at least an ebook.
Then I felt prompted to go out to Wisconsin to be with my dad Gene L. Kuhns and my mom Anna Kuhns, and work with them. I did that. I also felt like I should cancel my LDS Planet online dating subscription, but not before it expired on July 3rd. So I set that cancellation in motion.
On July 1st, I met a woman online (yes, on LDSPlanet!), a writer (MarniePehrson.com) with published fiction and nonfiction books, someone who did social media consulting, someone who held writers retreats and other events. We started talking. We resonated.
As I talked about how I was thinking of maybe buying a property in Wisconsin where I could hold writers’ retreats, she sent me a picture of her former house, where she had always dreamed of holding writers retreats. The house looked pretty interesting, and so did she. I figured even if we wouldn’t date, we had business interests in common, so I should pursue that.
I decided to meet her, and in early August flew down to Chattanooga. There, I saw her former house, near the Chickamauga National Battlefield. Unexpectedly, it had just gone on the market (it had been foreclosed months earlier). I decided to make an offer on the house, figuring even if we didn’t work out as a business partnership or as couple, it would still be a great property to own. I made an offer, and ended up getting the house.
It is nearly 800 square feet bigger than the one I was going to buy in Salt Lake. Instead of being several hundred yards away from a 40 acre Park, it is 200 yards away from a 5600-acre National Battlefield. Instead of being on a small quarter acre lot surrounded by inner-city neighbors, it is on nearly a 2-acre lot surrounded by even more acreage and one neighbor about a hundred yards away. Instead of looking out an old small living room window at a neighbor’s chain link fence, trashy house trailer with two large barking dogs, or looking out my back window at the backyard of a small run-down house with garbage heaped everywhere, I look out my living room window at red cedar trees, Georgia pines, and tall oak and hickory trees on a hill sloping down toward a sod farm. Out the bedroom windows, or out my office window, I look across a gently sloping yard full of wildflowers

Wildflowers and my rural Northwest Georgia house – Sept 2017

to hickory trees, and beyond that a well-manicured sod farm. If I walk for about 5 minutes from my large front porch, I come to a prehistoric Native American fishing weir on the West Chickamauga Creek. Crossing that creek, I have access to a 5600 Acre National Park Civil War National Battlefield operated by the US Park Service. The house is several decades newer,

Hickory Hill -- my new house in rural Northwest Georgia, Sept 2017

and I bought it — all cash because I’d sold the house in Seattle — for much less than I would have paid for the house in Salt Lake.
I moved out of a 1 bedroom room in a house in central Utah, to a 5-bedroom home in Northwest Georgia in late August.
Through the course of the autumn and winter, Marnie L Pehrson and I continued to develop a business relationship. We held a writer’s retreat with Denise Lasswell Webster, and I helped Marnie with a Women’s Conference in Southern California.
And we dated. Although the house and the property were awesome, I wanted to see if there might be more.
And there is.
One year to the day after I wrote the first post above, I am 4 days away from being married for forever in the Nashville LDS temple to a woman I love, and who loves and adores me. We resonate not only emotionally and business-wise, but spiritually, mentally, and in many other ways.
Heavenly Father amazes me! I sing praises to Him. I am beyond belief grateful not only for what has happened, but what will happen. The house, the property, the relationship all allow me, allow us, to have a place of Peace, of Refuge, of Solace and Solitude, a place where we can invite our children and grandchildren, our relatives, our friends, our neighbors, and friends we haven’t met yet, to relax, to learn, to explore, to write, to create, to observe, to feel, to connect, to heal, to find peace, health, happiness and joy. Rather than living near the International Peace Garden, I can create my own!
One year ago, I would not have thought any of this was possible. I didn’t even think of it! The vision had not yet unfolded. He simply told me step-by-step what to do. In fact, if you look at the story from both of our perspectives, it seems so incredible that if we wrote it in a novel, nobody would believe it. Yet here we are.
God is good … all the time.

Why Say What You Are? Non-Boxing Advice: Revolutionary Blogging Prose

“I’m a single.”
Or
“I’m single.”
I hear it so often,
it makes me want to
cry.

Why say what you are?
Or what you think you are?
Unless you say
“I am a child of God.”
“I am a son of God.”
“I am a daughter of Heavenly Father.”

“I am a single”
is a statement
about your state of life.
It is
WHERE
you are,
not WHO
or WHAT
you are.

That statement
brings so many
other statements,
judgements,
traits,
emotions.
Most of them
are not WHO
or WHAT
I am.

Isn’t it more accurate
to state:
“I am IN
the single phase
of my life”?

That allows us
possibilities.
That lets us
NOT be put in a box.

There is nothing wrong
with being in
the single phase
of life.
But it may not be
where we are
permanently.

And it is not
who we are
completely.

Because we are
so much more
than single.

Why And How I Create: Decades Of Poetry, Prose, Photography And Creativity

CyranoWriter’s Creativity Journal and Journey

This is a journal of my personal creativity journey. It started more than a decade ago. In January, 2009, I heard a poet read at President Obama’s first inauguration. I thought: “I can do that!” And so I started.

Making a goal of writing and posting a poem or creative piece every day, I put my creative thoughts into this blog. Most are short poems, which I try to make into haiku (they are in the sense that they are 5/7/5). Some are longer. Some are free verse. Some are prose pieces. Some are silly. Most are serious and observational.

Creativity feeds my soul.
(Here is a great piece about creativity from Dead Poets Society / Robin Williams)

During the years since then, I’ve written more than 7,500 poetic and prose pieces. Along the way, I’ve discovered / invented three different types of electronic media poetry: ConTEXTing, IMprov, and ImproVerse. Each of these three has to do with an electron delivery method (phone texting, Instant messaging or IMing, and improv voice recognition.)

Some of my creativity pieces are “romantic” in nature (I was single back then, so a lot of the writings talk about the pathos of that state). Others are observations of either nature or human nature. Many deal with the issues we all face daily. And still others are just thoughts and musings, prompted by my observations of what is happening around me. Some are augmented by my photography. Most are left for you, the reader, to visualise in your mind. All of these reflect how I see the world, and what living and observing and just being means to me.

Can Creativity Help You See New?

My hope, my dream, is that people will read my creativity and “see new”. They’ll think about how they see or what they feel about the things I see and feel. And, most importantly, I hope my writing, day after day after day after day, will inspire others to simply see, to observe the amazingness happening around them, and to use their creativity to capture it in whatever form or style they choose.

People tell me “I used to write. I wish I could write more. I need to write more.” To them — to YOU — I say: “Do.” Because, decades ago, I heard another poet. And then, I did.

PS: My work is in chronological order, with the most recent writings immediately following this post. If you are looking for a particular subject or topic, type in some key works in the “Search” bar (above right), and it should bring up all my writing related to that topic. “Prince Charming” seems to be a popular search!

Should She Ask? It’s Simple Math: Revolutionary IMprov Prose

In person and in social media forums, many single women ask the question: “Is it okay for a woman to ask out a man, or ask a man for his phone number, or ask a man to dance?”
Assuming that social norms have changed enough to give women “equal rights” in dating, it boils down to a simple math issue of “if/then” equations.
The first equation is very complicated:
IF there are (say), 1000 [Or insert any number you wish] single dateable women (meaning my age range within 200 miles of my home), AND IF they are on Facebook (or some other place where I can “find” them, such as going to singles activities, dances, classes, parties, etc.),
THEN ASSUME I have enough time in a week to ask out 3 new women (which is EXTREMELY high) a week,
THEN I have the chance to ask out about 150 NEW WOMEN a year. AT THE MOST.
Result? These women have a 15% chance of me asking them out (or a 1.5 out of 10 chance).
Not very high.
If the numbers change (lets say, for example, there are 5000 eligible women, and I can only take out 2 new ones a week, which are probably closer to true numbers), then the results change dramatically (in this case, 100 women a year out of 5000 = 2% chance I will ask a particular woman out, or a .2 out of 10 chance.)

HOWEVER, the second equation is much simpler for both scenarios (for me, and for most men, with some exceptions):
IF a woman asks me out,
THEN there is a 100% chance I will go out with her.
100%!

The same is true for asking for phone numbers or email. Ask, and ye shall receive!

The same is roughly true at a singles dance.
Women ask: “Should I ask a man to dance?”
For the answer, here’s my logic:
At a normal dance for people my age, there are 100 single women.
Each dance song is (roughly) 4 minutes long.
That means there are about 15 songs an hour.
Each dance lasts (roughly) 3 hours.
That means there are about 45 potential songs we could dance to. Already, a woman has less than a 50/50 chance I will dance with her.

NOW ASSUME that I will skip dancing to some songs because I don’t like the song (Boot-scootin’ Boogie, The Lion Sleeps Tonight), or I want some water (I dance hard!). Also assume that, during line dances (Cupid Shuffle, Electric Slide, etc.), I will dance solo. The total number of songs I can dance to drops to about 35 dances.
THEN ASSUME that I will dance twice with the same woman for at least 25% of those songs (one fast, one slow), and you’re down to about 25 potential songs I can dance to with a unique partner.
That equals a 1 in 4 (25%) chance that I will dance with a particular woman at that event.

HOWEVER, if a woman asks me to dance, she will, 100% of the time, get a “yes” answer.
Do the math.

Then ask!