Dear Og, no.
I’m a lot less successful that I thought I’d be.
I remember being in college and thinking, “Well when I get a job, I’ll save for a couple of years and start getting some toys. Then eventually I’ll rise in status, buy a house, meet and marry a beautiful women, maybe even have a family.”
Totally didn’t work that way. I knew then that there was something wrong in the way I related to people, but I couldn’t define it. All I know was that, as far as I could tell, I couldn’t seem to attract the interest of women, except as (sometimes) friends. Meanwhile, I moved out into the working world.
Then my world fell apart. My sister died of cancer. With counseling, I put myself together. Later, I tried for a career change. It didn’t work. My mom, my stepfather, and my aunt died. I withdrew from the world. More counseling, both to deal with the wreckage, and to figure out what the hell was going on. Why was my friend making three times what I did even though we used to work side by side?
I got into trouble with credit cards, buying things and going on a trip, trying to make myself feel good. This didn’t work. Credit counselling, then a repayment plan removed all my sources of credit, and led to four years of struggle to repay.
I joined a group to learn about social skills. This was new to me. There was a whole world of communications I knew little of, but the biggest revolution was inside me: I had to learn to perceive and think about the other person, outside my own plans and fears. it was very subtle and tricky work. I also confronted my greatest fears in the course of the group, and I made all the mistakes I feared. I hurt and was hurt.
I came out of it. I paid off my debt. After 15 years of struggle, I’m back on my feet and planning for my personal future. For the first time, I have some sense of what it’s like to be in an intimate emotional relationship of equals with another.
I still don’t live in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife and beautiful toys. I’m okay with that, now, though I’m still lonely. My path is stranger than suburban conformity.