playing with a full deck

My parents are hustlers. They hustle to get what they want and what they need. They think up dreams and when those dreams don't pan out, they think up other dreams. They're dreamers, but they are practical dreamers. They make dreams reality. My dad's always got a side business and often has a Big Project on the go which if it works, it will be 'outstanding'. A lot of these dreams are never realized but the few that are, these are the ones that he lives for. My mother is a sales hustler, a deals hustler, a pincher and a scraper, a wearer of designer clothes bought at discount prices. And their secret to staying young, to staying alive in their lives, their mantra really, is to never stop hustling. Go for it, hustle, make it work.

So, it's not surprising that I was raised to hustle. What is surprising is how it is in every part of my life. On recently looking back on my past relationships and interactions with people, i realize that I am an emotional hustler. As I get to know someone, part of me assesses how I can enrich their lives and how they can enrich mine. What the trade will be, how best to make it work. What things to leave out.

Metaphorically, I decide what cards I'm going to show and what cards I'm going to keep in my hand. And if all the cards we're both showing match well, I invest, I make the wager. Different cards for different people. Sometimes I choose wrong, I make a slip in judgment, sometimes I get played. That's how it is for me, a game. Which sounds somehow cold and shallow, but it's how I cope. It's how I make things work. It's how I know where I stand.

Some people want to delve deep into my deck and I into theirs and that is the shape that our relationship takes.
Some people want to visit parts of my deck over and over, we share an interest, a passion for something and that's the way we know each other.
Some people just want to be shown a card trick or two.

And then comes along someone that can see my cards without me showing them. Something in my poker face gives me away. And he stays. This is confusing and scary. This is something that has taken me a long time to get used to, something that I'm still getting used to. The idea that someone could know all about me, about what makes me up and how I work, and still choose to stay. And worse than all this, I can't read his! I'm so very good at reading people, but I only know what he shows me. It makes me want to stomp. It makes me want to scream 'no fair'. If I want to see his cards, I have to.... gasp... ask! I have to ask for what I want. No hustling.

This is a lesson in trust and perhaps my wildest adventure to date. I have to know what I want, believe that I'm worth it, then ask. It's his mantra. Sounds easy... it's hard work for a hustler. Sometimes I complain. Sometimes I point out the power imbalance. And when I do that, he laughs and raises his left eyebrow in this look that says 'yeah right, I know you've got a card or two up your sleeve!'

see how well he knows me?