DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: My boyfriend and I have been together for 14 years…however, I think we just aren’t meant for each other. We never thought about the future in a real way all this time and now here we are. I always knew he wanted kids, but I don’t. He loves me and would rather just be with me, even if it means not having them, he said. But then he’ll always bring them up, like he’s trying to convince me. In my head I’m getting too old to have kids (39), and honestly, I don’t want them. But he could still have kids. He would make a great dad. I feel like I’m denying him something that he’s always wanted by being with me.

There are other things too, like our eternal fighting! We fight about everything, small fights, big fights. Fights about arguing, if I interrupt him. It’s exhausting.

I’ve thought about this off and on for a few years, still never sure if we are right for each other. We do have good times, both 90s kids, we had the same type of childhood. And we do like a lot of the same things, but we differ a lot too. And a few years ago, we got into massive screaming fights. I can’t even remember why now. But I feel like I stayed during those hard times, because we had a dog that both of us loved deeply. I felt so guilty when she hears us fight. Sometimes we’d fight about her and how to take care of her. I did too much, him too little imo. But last year she passed away, it was devastating. And now lately I can’t stop thinking about being alone. Our dog was the glue that kept us together.

But he’s lost a lot in his life, year after year, and I feel like it would be so awful if I left too. The guilt is horrible! I love him so much, I really do, just not the same as I used to. But he’s still very in love with me, and it scares me. He can be such a good boyfriend, he’s caring, wants me to do what I want to do, he’s not controlling, we trust each other completely and are both extremely loyal. Maybe to a fault.

But he also has never been financially stable. I’ve been the breadwinner out entire relationship. He’s always said he hates it and has been trying to change. This year he has finally started pulling some cash in, but I don’t even care anymore. Yes, I’d prefer him to make money, but now only so I don’t feel guilty leaving him high and dry.

I guess I’m already leaning to breaking up. But what if it’s a horrible mistake! And then I’m sad and alone and he’d be done with me for doing it. I’m already so sad, I still haven’t recovered from our dog dying. And he’s still in pain from the loss of his Dad a year before. It feels so wrong to break up, but then why do I keep thinking about it!

Please help, should we break up? And if I do it, how and when? I read that no time is a good time, but Jesus, we’ve been together so long, how on earth do you say goodbye to a decade+?

We’ve talked about “if we ever break up” scenarios and we’d like to stay friends. I really do. He’s a fantastic person, and has been so supportive, he really is a decent boyfriend.

I’m crazy right?

There’s just a part of me that rather be alone now. I don’t want to take care of anyone or anything. I don’t want another dog, but he does. Just another thing I’m denying him! But it can be so exhausting with him. It shouldn’t be hard to be in a relationship, right? Especially after this long? Or does it get harder? Idk! Idk!

We know each other like the backs of our hands. I’ve always been fickle, which he hates! I just don’t know what to do. I’m so lost, and scared. And I don’t want to hurt him. Please help me, I immensely appreciate it.

Ever Have That Feeling Where You Just Want To Go?

DEAR EVER HAVE THAT FEELING WHERE YOU JUST WANT TO GO: Can I ask you a question, EHTF? Just between you and me and all the folks reading this… are you asking me for advice, or are you asking me for permission to do something you’ve already decided you want to do? Because if I’m being honest here, it sounds to me like you’re asking me to talk you out of a decision you’ve already made. I think you already know the answer. I think you’re afraid of admitting it and going through with it and that’s why you’re reaching out.

I’ll get into the weeds of your relationship in a second, but first I want to talk a bit about why you’re having these feelings about it. What you’re experiencing is what’s known as The Sunk-Cost Fallacy – it’s a cognitive bias where you’re hesitant to make a change or give up on something because you’ve already invested heavily in it.

People tend to be incredibly loss-averse; we don’t like the idea that we’ve given something up when we’ve put a lot of resources into it – whether those resources are money, material, effort or time. To acknowledge that this thing isn’t working is to admit that those resources have been wasted and lost. That’s a hard thing to do; it hits us in our ego as much as it does in our wallet because it requires admitting that maybe we’ve made a mistake. Or that maybe we made a bad investment and we don’t like the idea that it’s never going to pay out. Or giving up on a relationship that we’ve put so much time and effort into.

The problem is that this is precisely what the aphorism about throwing good money after bad is referring to; we don’t want to admit what is pretty obvious, and so we double and triple down in order to prove that no, we didn’t f--k up, that this was a good decision. The belief or hope that we can pull out a win and thus validate all the pain and frustration and angst was actually worth it is incredibly powerful. And God knows we swim in a sea of stories and anecdotes and messages about the value of persistence in the face of relentless opposition, or how hanging on even when all hope is gone is good. All of that makes it really hard to take a cold, analytical look at things and say “yup, time to cut bait.”

This is especially true when it comes to relationships; I can’t count the number of stories and movies and thought-pieces that all boil down to “you don’t to give up all these years together, right? RIGHT?”, as though longevity is inherently more important than, say, actual compatibility or happiness.

Now, me? I’m a big believer in “don’t stick with a mistake, just because you took a long time making it.”

So, let’s get back to the state of your relationship. It sounds to me like you know that this isn’t working and that there’re foundational issues that just don’t line up for the two of you. The question about children is a prime example. This is an area where there really isn’t any way to compromise; you either have kids or you don’t. You can’t rent one to try out for a limited time, nor can you have them and then say “actually, this doesn’t work for me” and return them. And while your boyfriend says that he’s cool with not having kids, the fact that it keeps coming up is pretty telling about how he actually feels.

The fights are another issue. Fighting and conflict in a relationship is inevitable, no matter how compatible you are or how good your relationship is; you’re two individuals, which means that you’re inevitably going to have interests or desires that bump into each other. That’s normal. But when you’re always fighting, that’s a bad sign. It suggests that either conflicts aren’t getting resolved, or that you’re addressing symptoms but not underlying causes. Sometimes identifying those underlying causes can resolve the fights… but sometimes they’re a sign of greater incompatibilities or greater conflicts.

And, as you said: it’s exhausting. You’re always on guard, always weighing what to say next and always wondering what’s going to trigger the next fight. That’s no way to live, especially with someone you care about and who cares about you.

Now, I suspect that the complicating factor here is that it doesn’t sound like your boyfriend is a bad guy. He’s got his flaws, sure, but we all do. He’s not an awful person who treats you badly; if he were, you wouldn’t feel conflicted like this. It would be easier if he were an asshole or abusive or was constantly cheating or something. But he isn’t. He’s just someone who doesn’t seem to be right for you and this relationship just isn’t meeting your needs.

That’s a perfectly valid reason to break up! You don’t need some causus belli to justify ending a relationship, nor do you need to prove mistreatment to The Relationship Council in order to get their stamp of approval. You can break up for any reason, any reason at all, no matter how absurdly small or petty. The fact that you’re just not compatible and the relationship brings you more stress than joy are good reasons – even a relationship spanning decades. All that time together doesn’t change that it’s not working. It may have been working before, especially in the early days, but it isn’t now, and that’s ok. Not every relationship is meant to last forever. We’re always growing and changing, and sometimes that growth means that we outgrow the people we’re with and the relationships we have. It doesn’t mean anybody did anything wrong or didn’t work hard enough; it just means that you were right for each other for a little while and now you’ve reached the natural end of this relationship.

I think you know this. I think you know that this is a break up that needs to happen. But it’s that sunk cost fallacy that’s hitting you and throwing all these objections in your way. Would it suck to leave him now? Yes, it will. Will you feel bad for leaving him at this point where he’s still hurting? Of course you will! You’re a caring and empathic person. Just because you don’t want to be in a relationship with him any more doesn’t mean that you don’t care about him or want to cause him pain. In an ideal world, you’d find a point where you could leave him, if not better than when you found him, at least in a relatively decent place.

But ask yourself this: how long are you willing to stay in this relationship while you wait for the “right” time? A month? Six months? Another year? Five years? Because I am here from the future, and I’m here to tell you that there will always be a reason why it’s the wrong time to break up. There will always be something that says “no, this isn’t the right time” – it’s too close to an anniversary, or a holiday. There will always be another tragedy, another setback, another problem that kicks things further down the line.

And while I realize that you don’t want to leave him in ways that make things hurt worse… sticking around when you clearly want to leave is going to hurt far worse than leaving now. Because while leaving now would hurt, finding out that you’ve been quietly dying inside and looking for the exits is going to hurt worse. This is the sort of thing that retroactively poisons happy memories as they have to recontextualize their time with you and think about how when het hought you two were having a good time, you were hoping for some sort of opportunity to cut yourself loose.

That’s a cruel thing to do to someone. You may not intend it to be – you’re actively trying to be kind!  – but that’s still the sort of pain we try to avoid causing in others when we end a relationship.

And it’s going to be worse for you, because the time spent waiting is more time you’re losing to a relationship that isn’t working and isn’t going to work. It doesn’t matter how much you water a dead plant; you’re wasting the water, and the plant’s never going to grow.

I know you’ve got all this shared history together. He’s not a bad guy, and you genuinely care and want to support him. But I promise you: you can care for him and support him without being in a relationship with him. Setting yourself on fire to keep him warm isn’t going to make this better.

So yes, I think you need to do what you clearly want to do: break up with him. There’s no painless way to do it; the goal is to not cause unnecessary pain, which means you want to treat it like ripping off a bandage: quickly and in one swift, smooth motion. That means you don’t talk it out, you don’t do it in stages and you don’t discuss it before you head out the door. You don’t need to list all the reasons, especially if talking it through ups the odds that you’ll back down at the last second. This isn’t a negotiation or a dialogue, it’s a download. You tell him that it’s over – you’re not happy, this hasn’t been working for you for a long time, and you’re done – and then you go. You can acknowledge the good times and the time you’ve spent together; that doesn’t vanish into the ether just because you’re ending things. But don’t forget that the fact that times were good doesn’t change that they’re notgood, now.

Don’t wait for “a better time”, because there won’t be one. The best time to leave was yesterday. The second best is today. The worst is tomorrow. A clean break heals the fastest and the swift sharp pain fades quickest. This chapter of your life has reached it’s conclusion; it’s time to start the next one.

It’ll hurt, but you’ll both be ok. I promise.

All will be well.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I fell in love with a Very Unsuitable Person – as in potentially career ending levels of unsuitable – and for a while he loved me back. It was a non-sexual but highly-romantic relationship.

There were several opportunities for me to have said no, or halted the relationship, but I didn’t want to, so I continued seeing him until he broke up with me rather abruptly.

It’s been three months since the breakup, and I still miss him so much it is a constant ache, a whine in the back of my head. I know I got very, very lucky. It was a clean break, no drama on either side, end of career averted, Very Unsuitable Person voluntarily f--ked off out of my life. The universe gave me a mulligan.

I don’t think there’s any possibility of him popping back up again, either. But God do I miss him. I miss the laughter and smiles and in-jokes and sweetness. I miss the sound of my name from his mouth. I miss the way his breathing sounded when we watched a movie together and he was really into it. I miss the intensity of the way he loved me, and how it felt like it was us against the world. And if he did get in touch, apologize, explain…I would seriously consider taking him back, fully cognizant of how bad an idea that would be, and how I would be throwing away that mulligan.

How do I him-proof myself? How do I get over this? Has it just not been long enough?

I’m just so sad.

Sincerely yours,

Lucky, But Not Loved

DEAR LUCKY BUT NOT LOVFED: This sounds rough, LBNL, and I’m sorry you’re going through it. I do wish you’d explained a little bit more about why it would’ve been so unsuitable and how the two of you were in this romantically fraught relationship, and that could give a little more insight into how you’re feeling now.

But I strongly suspect that a big reason why you’re still hung up on this is because the relationship ended so abruptly. It’s the suddenness of the break that screws with you, in part because one moment it’s there and everything is great and then suddenly it’s gone.

It’s one thing if you feel a relationship starting to wind down – whether you’re realizing you’re losing that loving feeling or they seem to be pulling a slow fade. Or if you’re constantly in conflict and the good times seem like an increasingly distant memory. In those cases, you have more of a transition period, where your status quo has been changing and the relationship itself is altering until you reach the point where it ends. On those occasions, while it sucks that things fell apart, you at least saw it coming. You’re able to look back on the good times and miss them, but you can also see how – if not why – it all ended.

When it comes screaming out of the clear blue sky, however, there’s no adjustment, no acclimation, no awareness of the change. It’s a bit like a chair you were sitting in vanished and dropped you to the floor, or a door you were leaning on opened without warning. This thing you had is gone and so quickly that you stumble and fall and you have no idea what the hell happened.

Small wonder that you still feel so strongly about it. Yeah, you know this wasn’t good for you and it’s better that the relationship is over, intellectually… but emotionally, it’s next to impossible to make that sort of 180 degree turn in an instant. This is in no small part because what you’re feeling is as much chemical as it is emotional. You’re literally in withdrawal; you were still in the phase where your brain was being flooded with dopamine and oxytocin when he was around. You were getting high off of him – literally – and now suddenly your dealer cut you off with no warning.

So what do you do about it? Well, part of it is that you give yourself closure. While this wasn’t the way you would’ve wanted the relationship to end, you know it needed to, and it’s better that things are over. You can and should acknowledge that you miss how you felt with him – trying to pretend you don’t just doesn’t work – but you also acknowledge that it’s better that this is over.

The next part is that you treat this like any other break up. It may not have been a conventional or even healthy relationship, but it was a relationship, and it ended. So you sit with your feelings and let yourself feel them. You mourn the loss, you regret that it had to happen this way, and you process. Give yourself a couple weeks to have a sad about it, then work on reconnecting with your friends and family. Focus on things that help generate some oxytocin – laughing with your friends, physical touch, good conversations and so on. Get a massage, cuddle with your cat or dog, go for long walks or hit the gym and get your blood pumping and endorphins flowing.

And then? Well, you will be surprised to wake up one day soon and realize that while you still miss these things you used to have with him… it’s not as bad as it was. And as each day passes, you’ll realize that you’re feeling a little better than the day before. And a bit better the next day, and so on and so on. Every day, you’ll miss him a little bit less. ��And in time, you’ll realize that not only are you over him, but you’re ready to go out and meet someone new – someone better for you, who isn’t six red flags in a trench coat. And some day, if Mr. Bad Decision does come back into your life – a day that, God willing, may never come – you’ll realize that you don’t want him back. You will have moved on and whether you’ve met someone who better meets your needs or not, you’ll know that this guy holds no more temptations for you.

You’ve got this.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I have been reading things here for a long time and while I don’t agree with you on everything, I have often thought about getting your opinion on things, as you clearly understand people way better than me. Now, just today, something came up and it will be a while before my next therapy appointment, so I could do with some advice. It isn’t exactly a dating question, but I know you’ve answered questions about general issues with socializing before.

First up, I’m a 31-year-old German, bisexual, autistic (as you probably guessed) guy with moderate depressive disorder and severe social anxiety. I still live with my parents working on a university degree, that seems to take me forever, have very few friends (I had none for most of my youth) and am generally very bad at dealing with people. Like, I know several other autistic people and even compared to them I am bad at it. Even though I can talk just fine and don’t think I am even that bad at understanding people’s actions at a distance, when I am actually around someone else it’s like “What do I do with this? Why are they acting like that and reacting that way to me? Why do I always do this s--t, I know is wrong?”

To finally start approaching the point: I made the (very scary to me) decision to, for the first time, join a Pride Parade in a nearby city this year, which was today. I am furious about the massive social push-back against queer people, especially trans people, that has been happening recently. I know it’s worse over in the US, but it’s very much happening here in Germany too. So I felt, I should do at least this little to show my support. Also, I thought, I needed to get out of my comfort zone and had that slim hope of making some connections to people. I can already see the “Pride isn’t about making friends or lovers”-reaction coming, as it seems nowhere that people meet is about meeting people according to the internet, but I digress.

I actually had a really good time at the parade itself. I had seen very few other queer people in real life before and seeing so many so different people come together to stand up for one another felt really wonderful. I did not exactly feel a part of the group, but at least along with the group, if that makes any sense.

The party after the parade was another story. The parade had arrived at the site earlier than expected and so the organizers needed a while to set things up. I hadn’t made up my mind about whether I was even going to stay for the party ahead of time, as I usually hate parties, but with the delay, I decided to at least take a look around. After some looking around and eating some ice cream, I realized, there wasn’t really much for me there and I left to go home.

The party was on one side of a river I had to cross and when I got to the other side, I sat on a bench to rest for a little. I realized, that I was feeling incredibly lonely. I had seen all these friends and couples around me for hours, but never talked to any of them, didn’t even know how to talk to them. I felt going home was giving up, that I had to take the chance, instead of running away from people, like I always did.

So I went back to the party and stupidly did the same thing I always do at parties, that never works: walk around aimlessly looking for someone who may be interested in conversation, because I don’t enjoy dancing or drinking. But if there are signals that people are willing to open up their groups, they are invisible to me and, well, almost no one was sitting around on their own. And I couldn’t just place myself somewhere in the vain hope someone might come up to me, because it was too crowded.

But then I noticed, I wasn’t the only one circling the premises. I noticed two other people doing the same thing: One was very thick and wearing nerdy clothes, the other was quite cute with pretty, long locks and a wearing a long black skirt that suited them really well. (Both looked like guys to me, even with the skirt, but I’m not gonna assume at a pride party.)

Showing myself much more shallow, than I thought, I tried to get closer to the cute person. I thought of what to say, something like: “Hey. Are you waiting or looking for someone? Because you look like you’re just aimlessly walking around and I was worried, that I was the only one doing that. Wanna be aimless together for a bit?” (Leaving the “are you lonely just like me, oh pretty probably-not-a-woman” implied at most.) It probably shows how little social calibration I have, that I genuinely have no idea, how that would have come off.

Chances are, that they were in fact just looking or waiting for friends, because they checked their phone whenever they stopped. Either way, with me not getting a good opportunity or hesitating too long, but not wanting to lose sight of them, I found myself following them around. Oops.

I should have just left then and there, or done anything else. But I just got fixated on this idea. I did keep myself away from the cute person for a while and they left my sight. But after a while, I saw them down near the river (where the quieter part of the party was), still aimlessly walking around. I waited near the stairs that went down there, but they didn’t come up, so I went down. I actually got pretty close, as they were getting up from the dry grass, they had been lying in for a moment. Our eyes met for a moment and their look seemed to say: “Why the hell are you looking at me?”

Apparently, that still wasn’t enough for me, so when they sat themselves down, right next to the river but away from most people, I sat a bit away from that but just in visual range. They had a quick phone-call (possibly about the creepy stalker following them around). I thought, if they wanted to, they could approach me, if only to confront me, so I could apologize. That didn’t happen, they got up and I looked away, so I couldn’t see where they were going. Then I left for home.

When I got home, I had to find out, that I had been even dumber, than I thought. The weather forecast I’d read had said, that it would be cloudy, so I stupidly didn’t put on sunscreen. It was not cloudy. The entire time I was making an ass of myself, I had been having a bright red face from sunburn.

I know, that chances are, the person I was fixating on didn’t even notice most of that. I still fear, that I have now become someone’s scare story, about how some weird-looking creep had followed them around at pride.

So, my question, after that way-too-long story, is: How do I do better next time? I mean beyond not staring at and following around strangers. Because I had enjoyed the parade and would like to return next year if I can. Should I just avoid the party? Try to bring someone along (will be hard, my few friends and family aren’t bigots, but are awkward about queer stuff)? Should I try to go to one of those queer meetup-things, that seem super awkward and forced to me, because awkward and forced communication is better than none?

I hesitate to ask about more effective methods of approaching people, because whenever I see someone give them, my thought is: “Well how am I supposed to do that? Want me to climb a mountain next?”

I’m writing this so soon after it happened, because, my self-hatred is already turning this from “That went badly. How can I do better?” to “I am a complete garbage person, that no one should ever associate with.” (I am not asking for help with the self-loathing. The only answer you seem to have to that is: “Make yourself think differently.” Which doesn’t work. Yes I tried. Many times.)

Sincerely,

Future Pride Scare Story 

DEAR FUTURE PRIDE SCARE STORY: Hey, FPSS, I don’t mean to diminish what you’re feeling or your understandable worries but are you sure that the problem here isn’t just anxiety f--king with you?

To be perfectly honest, I’m not actually seeing anything in your letter that suggests that you actually did anything wrong – certainly nothing that would come off as creepy or untoward. Most of what you describe sounds pretty anodyne and seems to be more about you over-thinking things and kicking yourself in the junk.

I want to start off by saying that you did a brave and admirable thing. You were trying to get out of your comfort zone and actually go meet people and have fun. That can be pretty damn huge, and it’s great that you did! I’d also point out that the line about “hey, are you kinda wandering and feeling about rolling solo? Me too! Wanna hang out so we don’t feel as weird about it?” is actually a good approach. It’s a little self-aware vulnerability, a bid for a shared commonality and an offer of both understanding and relief. I think, if you’d managed to actually spit it out, that it would’ve gotten a positive response, even if they were just looking for their friends or waiting for someone.��It just seems a shame to me that you’re turning this moment of progress and growth into self-recrimination for no reason.

Part of it seems to be that you either have primed yourself to expect this or you’ve been doing some form of psychic self-harm by looking up videos and TikToks that would confirm that you’re a bad person. I’m honestly scratching my head, for example, at where “Pride isn’t about making friends or lovers” came from. Now admittedly: I’m a straight, cis dude, so my perspective isn’t going to be the same as someone in the queer community but I would’ve sworn that part of the point of Pride is, well, community. Bringing people together, celebrating yourselves, connecting and bonding and rejoicing. Saying “Pride’s not about finding making friends” seems to be contrary to the whole point about it; you’re at a celebration, not a monastic meditation retreat. This sounds to me like the equivalent of saying that you’re not supposed to try to make friends at a rock concert or at college.

(Now to be fair: there seems to be a series of endless debates about what is or isn’t “allowed” or “appropriate” at Pride – usually about kink, corporations or bi/pan people with opposite sex partners – so I could have missed some long-simmering Discourse… but I’d be shocked if so).

I mention this because I don’t know if this is something you came to the event with, or if it’s an after-the-fact rationalization about how ‘awful’ you were. But either way, it sounds like this is more about confirming your priors, rather than a sign that you broke some unwritten rule and are thus a terrible person. And, again, I’m just not seeing it.

If anything, what I’m seeing is standard depression and social anxiety and a lot of your just talking yourself down and beating yourself up because… being shy and worried about talking to someone just wasn’t “bad enough”, I guess. The whole “Oh God, I f--ked up so badly, everyone saw and everyone thinks I’m a predator!” sounds like a pretty common refrain from anxiety brain weasels. Then you compound it with comments like how you’re shallow for (let me check my notes here) finding someone attractive when they were conventionally attractive. Oh you villain, you monster, how could you?

OK more seriously: it doesn’t sound like you even got close enough for the person to clock that you were even there, never mind thinking you were stalking them. As near as I can tell, while you were maybe in their sight line occasionally, you were always at a distance, never actually got that close and never talked to them. Sure, you were trying to stay in the general area in hopes that you’d find an opportunity (and the courage) to talk to them but… it’s a party. People mix and mingle and circulate and walk around. You’re going to see folks over and over again because crowds churn and move and people walk around, talk to folks, get drinks, dance, go grab a smoke break or find a quiet spot to take a phone call or just get some fresh air. It’s pretty much expected, and frankly, most people are either not going to notice, or not think anything of it.

You didn’t follow them to places that would be unusual for people to go, nor did you get close enough for folks to feel like maybe this was more than coincidence. The one time you were in near physical proximity was when they were already getting up and leaving. And the next time you were within eyeshot, they were on their phone and you were leaving.

None of this reads as “following with ill intent”, “stalking” or even “guy thinks I’m cute and is trying to work up the courage to talk”. It’s far more likely to read as basic social churn at a party.

The closest you ever come to having any sort of meaningful contact that would suggest they were even aware you were there is that… they made eye-contact once. Unless you were giving them the hairy eyeball and staring unblinkingly like you were measuring their skin for how many belts you could make out of them, the odds that they even clocked that you were following them is really, really low.

I would also point out that literally everything else about this non-interaction – up to and including reading “ungh, who is this guy?” is interpretation on your part, and considering your social anxiety, I would not trust your interpretation as being reasonable or accurate. It’s the very definition of confirmation bias – you already assume that your presence is unwanted and intrusive, so it’s no wonder that you found “proof”. you were expecting to have this result and oh look, you did. Except, as I said: I don’t think you did. Unless they actually gave a hostile look – furrowed brow, frown, eyes narrowing, fists clenching or shoulders tensing – or gave some other sign of disgust or dislike, the odds are that they just think they made eye-contact with a stranger and that was the end of that.

The same goes with having been sun-burned. That’s embarrassing, sure, and potentially painful… but hardly unheard of. Getting too much sun at parades or outdoor parties is pretty much at the top of “most common shared experiences” lists at events like this. That, overpriced concessions, and “Sweet suffering f--k the port-o-potties were horror shows”.

Here’s the thing: social anxiety feels like there’s a spotlight on you at all times and convinces you that you’re the center of everyone’s attention and I promise you: you are not. Everyone’s busy with their own lives and their own drama and don’t have the time or mental bandwidth to clock you as more than another face in the crowd – sunburnt or otherwise. And in the event that anyone noticed you specifically, they almost certainly didn’t think “wait, why is this person following me”; if anything, they forgot you existed as soon as you left their eye-line. The reason why it feels like everyone’s paying attention to you is because you are feeling self-conscious about it. It feels to you like nobody could possibly miss that you’re always nearby, staring… but trust me: it absolutely is. People will miss a dude in a gorilla suit; you’re not nearly as visible as that.

I think we can safely say that the worst thing you did at this party was forget to bring sun screen, and the rest is just your anxiety f--king with you. You were pushing your limits, your social anxiousness kicked into high gear and your jerkbrain ran with it, that’s all. Part of it is the inherent awkwardness at being at an event where you don’t know anyone, part of it is a lack of experience and part of it is just fear. That’s ok, because those are all fixable!

You mention that you’re in therapy. I think it may be worth talking to your therapist about options for managing your anxiety, both in the moment and in general. There’re a number of breathing exercises you can do in the moment to help calm yourself down, like the 5-5-5 technique where you inhale for a count of 5, hold it for a count of 5 and exhale to the count of 5. There’s also the 4-7-8 version, which follows the same pattern. Breathe in slowly, hold it, breathe out slowly. You may also want to talk about potential medical options, from beta blockers to full SSRIs. These can help you get a handle on the physical symptoms of anxiety, which makes it easier to manage the mental and psychological side of it.

The other thing I think you should do is to go queer meetups, especially ones focused on meeting people and making new friends. Not only does this give you a chance to get used to just chatting with people – and meeting new potential friends – but it also means that next year at Pride, you’ll see some familiar faces, which can help alleviate some of the pressure of “how am I going to talk to anyone?”

The last thing I will leave you with is this: I’ve written a lot about how to navigate parties and talk to strangers, and recommend you check them out. But if you want my #1 tip for how to handle being at a party where you don’t know anyone? Talk to one of the hosts or, failing that, introduce yourself to someone who seems nice and tell them that this is your first time at Pride and you don’t know anyone here. Not only can damn near everyone relate, but they’re far more likely to introduce you around and help you meet people if you lead with that. Trust me: it works a hell of a lot better than holding up the metaphorical wall and hoping that some extrovert is going to come along and adopt you.

But seriously: you’re fine. You didn’t creep anyone out, you didn’t act egregiously. This is just anxiety f--king with you. You’re ok. I promise.

All will be well.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com