I didn't work out today. I've got this knot in my back that I've had before and in the now it's hurting bad enough that walking is a chore, sitting is painful, and lying flat on my back is the only comfortable position.

Ate lunch yesterday with someone from whom I hoped to gain insight about my future, since he is living a life that closely resembles what I expect mine to look like in a few years. He is much older than me - I'd say about 15 years - and about 4 years into a 5 - 7 year Ph.D. program. I haven't seen him in nearly 3 years. Over lunch, the conversation turned quickly to conceptual divisions within psychology, including Darwinist thinking and its place within the discipline. This man is a proponent of modern Darwinist thought, I'd learned from someone else recently, so I made a point to bring it up because it's a compelling topic but one which is not widely accepted. I wanted to know why he thought that was the case.

Words, the vernacular of social scientists - Psychologists are scientists sometimes more than counselors, more than actually caring about people. Sometimes I forget that; I surround myself with people who value and nurture empathy within themselves. It's easy to forget about the science. - The specific language of complex, conceptual abstractions rode on his breath past my head. I plucked the words out of the air, taking seconds to study them, to assign meaning to them so that I could comprehend. It was hard to keep up, hard to get it all. It felt good to be challenged in this way, to learn more in five minutes than I can in days. I was enjoying myself, thinking of questions and examples with which to clarify just so I knew I had understood it well.

Then he said he was attracted to me and he wanted to get it out in the open so that it wasn't there affecting the interaction, detracting from it somehow.

My mind switched gears and I heard my voice clearly, saying to myself like a broken record: You have to be smarter, you have to be smarter because he's got the skill to trick you. He's the Psychologist; his whole life is not only observing but modifying human behavior. Fuck. Is everything he said so far just an attempt to get in my pants? You gotta be smarter. What an asshole, sitting there thinking he can say this to me. Why the fuck does it always come down to this? I just wanted lunch and to get some information. God, I haven't seen this guy in over 2 years, how can this be real? Is this some kind of sick method of data collection? What if this is a compulsion and he does this to every woman? My God, I think I've met his wife before! This IS sick, this guy's going to be paid to help people…

So it went while he continued to justify his confession by submitting that it would impede the development of true friendship between us. He was employing that widely held tactic in psychology, the one that says openness and forthright communication is always a facilitator of intimacy. This is the trick, I thought, he thinks I won't see through this.

I heard him say he was attracted to my intelligence. Bing! That stopped my inner dialogue. What is it with that?

SCRIPT FOR MALES IN THE LAST DECADE OF THE 20TH CENTURY: When trying to sucker that woman into bed, generalities about her attractiveness must begin with "intelligence" and end in "beautiful." Beauty mustn't be neglected because, radical feminist though she may be, socialization has cemented in her a profound insecurity in her physical attributes. Do not discount the weight of this factor. Appeal to her need to be loved for her mind while pandering to her real desire to be Barbie incarnate. (She's not smart enough to see through this). We are still in control here.

Give me a break. He hasn't spent enough time with me to make that kind of discernment.

Finally he asked me what I felt about all this. I said two things: First, surprised because I didn't feel any of the sexual "awkwardness" he said was plaguing him. Second, tired that all interactions with men boil down to this basic thing. (Not always, but too often).

He fell back on the same shitbag of excuses: Men are socialized to sexualize everything, even to pursue it. Oh please! Show some restraint man!

The discussion continued. I'm not the kind of person to get up and storm out - to leave a plate of food. Instead I said I wanted to change the subject, which I did. It worked for awhile, but he felt more awkward in response to my rejection and he wouldn't let it drop. He repeatedly expressed concern that it was the wrong thing to do, but I had little sympathy: his mess, he can sit in it. I wasn't going to reassure him. Grown married man, counselor-in-training, he can cradle his own ego.

I held all the power at this point.

I wonder if he knew the magnitude of the risk he'd taken? I could talk you know.. . ruin him. I suspect this began to creep up on him toward the end of lunch, and why he kept pleading to know if I was feeling uncomfortable with this.

A clear cut case of transference if I ever saw one.

Then it did hit me, after the initial shock and anger subsided. I started to feel disgust and a sense of violation. Violated. Why? I thought about it a lot - How could I not? My whole day was clouded by it - I thought about it and decided it was because of the power differential I perceived: He is so much older, I trusted him to be a quasi-mentor. I didn't feel one bit attracted to him, I hadn't seen him in years so I never anticipated this: I wasn't guarded. How dare he burden me with this? How selfish of him to unload his "discomfort" (Oh woe is me, I can't contain myself in the presence of your most luscious body!) and then later say he felt much better knowing it wasn't reciprocated. He said he could already feel it subsiding, now that the fantasy couldn't flourish. Oh, and that was so gross to hear: Fantasy. He already had a fantasy?

I seem to have this persistent and erroneous idealism grounded in the notion that people in "helping" disciplines are a cut above the rest. That was violated too.