In Earnest

I've always thought the idea of earning something was a perfectly valid way of achieving a goal. After all, from the time we're children getting our first understanding of how the world theoretically works, we're taught by our parents, teachers and other mentors that the only way to get through life is to know what it is you want, and then work to earn your way to attaining it.

I'd like to think we're taught this as a way to show the difference between being given something you're deemed worthy enough to have, rather than taking it by force. By itself, that dichotomy seems pretty basic, especially when it comes to the people in our lives, for under no circumstances can or should they be viewed as objects.

There's been a lot of discussion in the last week, and rightly so, about the position of earning love and affection and how, in reality, it's not much different a concept than just taking it. I honestly had never considered the ramifications of that before now, but as it's something which has refused to vacate the premises of my mind, I suppose no time like the present.

I doubt I could say when I reached the conclusion that the right way to attain the love of someone else was to earn it. To suggest that any person regardless of gender, can just force another to convey such an emotion for them is ludicrous. I certainly wouldn't want it under those terms and maybe still I'm naive enough to think not a whole lot of other like-minded people would either.

*Editorial Note - In my time, I have come face-to-face with those who don't see it that way and acted based on their conclusions. I sat in rooms for five long years with rapists and predators and listened to their reasons, justifications and excuses for why they did the things they did. To this day, I'm honestly baffled that such people could ever think their actions were in any way sane or rational. I certainly can't, nor would I ever try to.

Like most teenage boys, I imagine I learned the structure of how relationships supposedly work the same way my father, grandfather and all my male ancestors did as well. The man is the one who presents himself to the woman and makes his affections known. The woman then decides if such affection shall be returned. if it is, then the relationship can begin to evolve. If not, then the man must then present themselves to a new potential mate and repeat the process.

I've often wondered, truly wondered, how stressful it has to be for women to constantly deal with the men who are interested in them. I have no context by which to base it on, so all I can do is offer complete conjecture and the willingness to engage that perspective, but I'd imagine it's got to be incredibly taxing. After all, men present themselves across the full spectrum from passive to passive-aggressive, aggressive and hostile.

I never wanted to be aggressive and I certainly didn't want to be hostile. My empathy is far too powerful for me to not think of the damage such an approach would bring to both myself and the person I was feeling the affection for. And I guess that's where the idea of earning it came from along with the mindset of being a nice guy.

Being nice wasn't ever seen as a bad thing for me. In fact, it was reinforced not only by seeing guys who were absolute dicks to everyone around them, but also in no small part by women like my grandmothers, who were both among the most amazing and caring people I've ever known. As a kid, it was the basic understanding of showing kindness to everyone, being respectful, courteous, nice. My Nana used to tell me all the time when I moved to a new town and had to start building my social circle over again, "Just be nice. Kids will like you if you're nice to them."

I took it to heart, in no small part, because I wanted to be liked. I wanted to be accepted.

Only now, some twenty-five years on, I find I've been contributing to a problem which is a whole lot bigger than me, and either through my own base ignorance or the inability to just see it, is it finally starting to sink in.

I've always thought I was going about the process from the right angle. I understood the ground rules regarding how a man is "supposed" to treat a woman and understood them well. They're common damn sense and I'm not the least bit ashamed to say I learned them in no small part by watching male figures in my life being abusive to women and concluding that I had to be the antithesis of those men.

But where I went wrong was masking myself to the notion that earning  was somehow better than taking. On paper it seems that way, except relationships don't happen on paper, despite what the Screenwriters Guild of America might say to the contrary.

It's still an objectification on a more subtle scale, and as someone who's never wanted to treat people as anything other than people, the depth by which I let that shape my perspective and attitudes bothers me. It really, really bothers me. It bothers me because despite my attitude that I was never entitled to anything physical from a woman, the mindset of earning an emotional connection does establish the foundation for entitlement and I blinded myself to the manipulation that came with it.

I'm ashamed of that. I feel terrible about it. I'm angry with myself. I hate the fact that I was capable of being so disrespectful to people I genuinely cared so much about. Had I been able to recognize it sooner and do something about it, I'm willing to bet a lot of my attempts to establish relationships may have gone a lot more different than they have.

I know that the pervasive thing to do right now in the internet metaverse is to really put guys through the wringer for neither understanding or changing their learned misogynistic habits sooner, and some of it is deserved.

The relentless bombardment of media which we all consume permeated into me as well, further reinforcing the idea that feelings can be earned. To prove my point, all I had to do was type "Earn love" into Google, and that was I found the picture that accompanies this blog. It's an established, entrenched part of our cultural lexicon and has been for generations, whether we want to admit that or not.

What I hope women take away from this is that as much as they have to fight off the influences that come with their gender in how they're "supposed" to look, dress, act, think, etc., men are fighting their own gender influences as well. That's not a defense of misogyny or an excuse, but it doesn't change the fact that I've spent the majority of my life believing if I was just a nice guy, someone who practiced and showed the best qualities of who I am, that would be enough. I received positive affirmation of that from the people I looked up to, respected and trusted, both men and women who allowed this point of view to go on.

I both knowingly and willingly swallowed the Kool-Aid and only now am I understanding how poisonous it was, and I'm sorry.

Now that I finally see the full depth of how dangerous being a nice guy can be, it does make me wonder just how I am supposed to evolve from here because honestly, I'm not really sure how. Everything I know has been challenged and shaken through this discourse. It was needed and I welcome it, but now comes the question of what direction I go in, not feeling entirely sure that my instincts know which way is the right one.

I don't want to be a nice guy and I don't want to be an asshole either. I'd just like to be me and hopefully that will be enough for somebody.

Communication Breakdown

Well, here we go again.

Ever since the news broke of what happened down at the UC-Santa Barbara campus, I've seen no end of people of both genders flexing their internet muscles trying to dissect and analyze Elliot Rodger, his well-documented motivations, and also use it as a microcosm for the problems facing men and women in the 21st century.

In many cases, the dissections have been done with all the subtlety of a chainsaw. Men calling out women saying, in no uncertain terms, that this is what happens when "we're not given what we want," like affection, love and sexual compatibility are mere commodities, or even worse, things that we inherently "deserve." Women, meanwhile, return fire with the standard rants about how men are nothing but neanderthal misogynist animals who are never content with the power they have over their female counterparts and this is another example of why they can never, ever be seen as the "victim" in any situation.

*Editorial Note - For the record, the almighty "Victim Card" is a gender-neutral construct in our culture. Both sides use it at the drop of a hat, over any perceived slight. I've used it way more times than I probably ever had a right to, and it's been used against me when there was no basis for it to be employed at my expense. The fact that it is the standard go-to in any discourse about the problems between men and women shows how fucked up the divide truly is.

It doesn't take more than reading a paragraph or two of Rodger's manifesto to see the guy had a very distorted view of the world around him and those who occupied it. Of that, I don't think there will be much dispute. I'm also not about to defend his views either, for they are of someone who has truly lost his grip on his reality, perception, self-image and self-control.

That said, and in no way does this fill me with a measure of joy or pride for being able to, but on a lot of levels, I can empathize with him. The degrees of separation which stand between me and someone like that are not many, and that comprehension frightens me like few things do.

The manifesto's thesis was that Rodger's actions were somehow justified because he was continually spurned and rejected by the women he was attracted to, so therefore his only remaining option was to view ALL women as the "enemy," which made the retribution he sought also justifiable. I don't empathize with him in that respect because I don't agree in any way with his position.

What I do empathize with him on, however, are the feelings of alienation, rejection and uncertainty about self-identity. Reading through the 137 pages, it was like going down a comparative checklist.

Early family breakdown: CHECK
Frequent relocations through childhood: CHECK
Emotional issues brought on by new parental dynamic: CHECK
Social detachment away from people towards technology: CHECK
Ostracized and devalued by peers: CHECK
Early attempts to form relationships with girls stifled: CHECK
Issues dealing with puberty and related development: CHECK

I make no bones at all about the fact that in hindsight, I was a bad kid. I was angry, withdrawn and incredibly socially awkward. I was also incredibly confused, depressed, wounded, lonely and desperate for both acceptance and more importantly, love, by any means necessary. When you don't get those things, you're left with two options for why you're somehow disqualified from what you see those around you, who you grow to envy immensely, have.

It's either everyone else's fault or it's your own, and I truly hate to say this, but the validity is there.

The people who decide it's themselves are the ones who ponder and commit suicide. Those who decide it's everyone else's, usually plans and then orchestrates ways to make them suffer for their indignity.

Yes, there's been times when I've thought about both. I guess what separates me from someone like Elliot Rodger is that I've always come to the conclusion that I was the problem and if I was going to take my anger out on anyone, I deserved it more than the other person. That doesn't mean, however, that the animosity completely dissipates, though. Like anything else, with repetition comes familiarity and familiarity is how we shape our perspective.

So someone who's had repeated success, adulation or moral and emotional support will have a much different view of the world than someone who, for whatever reason, never got any of that. It breeds bitterness, envy, hate, and an expanded lack of understanding.

You ask yourself the questions, "What is it about me that is so wrong that I can't have what they have?! We're both human! We're both intelligent creatures and came about the same way. Why do they have it so easy and I have it so hard?! Why can't I be like them?!"

When it comes to trying to forge a relationship with a woman, I am historically 0-9, going all the way back to when I escaped the little kid "puppy love" phase we all go through before puberty sets in and the hormones are unleashed like a supernova. Every single one of them never panned out. Sad, maybe, but also true. To be absolutely clear, I'm not holding those nine women completely accountable for that, either. In terms of responsibility for why it didn't happen, I'd honestly go no less than 80/20 on me for that.

The last time I tried to start a relationship, I remember very clearly saying to the woman I was interested in that I don't know the first thing about trying to be the "right" kind of man in the modern age. I'd like to think I have a very firm grasp on the basic foundations of respect, honesty, and trust, but everything else was still pretty sketchy, especially after a 16-year relationship with the only woman ever interested in me enough to go on a date, let alone marry me.

So I said I wanted to learn. I wanted to learn about her, what she was like, who she was and who she wanted to be, and I was hoping in some measure to learn about myself as well. What I was capable of as a man, as opposed to the wildly inaccurate machinations and ideas I had as I was developing into one.

Needless to say, as I am still single, that approach didn't seem to go over so well either, I guess.

I asked some female friends a while back what goes through their minds when the turn a guy down. Do they feel any sort of remorse about it? Does it bother them that they have to? Do the feelings and potential damage that might do to a guy matter at all? I asked not to be vindictive or snide about it. I just wanted to know if it hurt them anywhere near as much as it hurt me every time I got told to keep on looking. In their defense, they did say that it wasn't always easy and it depended both on the circumstances and the guy.

I love women. I love everything about women. But for reasons I'm still trying to figure out, I don't understand them and they don't seem to understand me much either. Elliot Rodger clearly didn't understand them. He thought he ""owned" them. That he somehow had a "right" to them just because he was a man and that's how it's "supposed to work."

He was a complete fool in that respect, but no one in his circle seemed interested in answering the questions he was asking his whole life. Along with the victims, that is the real tragedy here. Like so many other times before, this could've been prevented if ANYONE, be it a man or a woman, had ever sat down and bothered to listen.

Threshold

For the last three months, I've been spending a lot of the time not dedicated to job searching, reading, exercising and/or trying to have any modicum of sociality on finishing my novel.

I actually started it about 18 months ago, but with all the other work I was doing to that point, it was surreptitiously pushed to the omnipresent back-burner. Since then, however, I'd like to think I've gotten quite a bit done, with 16 chapters completed and only a few crucial ones remaining.

I've often wondered the same for writers as it is for actors in terms of bringing characters out of your creative being. Obviously, there is such a thing a "Method Acting," which allows for elements of an actors actual persona to permeate into the character they're portraying, be they heroic or evil. For every technique there seems to be for acting, there also seems to be twice as many for the writer.

The most cliched and overused trope is write what you know, as if any writer will sit down to craft a story based upon things for which they have no proper context or understanding. This novel of mine, while it dabbles heavily into the realms of speculative and science-fiction is still, at its core, a very personal story. I've poured a lot of myself into it, both through the characters I've created and the situations I've put them in. But I've had a serious problem over the last week.

The chapter I'm working on now, the twenty-eighth for those keeping score, is probably going to be the hardest one I have to write because to do so requires me to go to the parts of my own persona that I really don't like to go to. Those base, primal, angry parts of me that I know are there, but I just keep on either on an incredibly short leash or in a very tightly-sealed box and out of sight altogether.

To be clear, I always knew this was coming when I sat down and created the opening scene of the first chapter back in 2013. It was no small reason for why I came up with the whole idea in the first place, because as my protagonist will have to face his Yang, so was I going to have to as his creator, and hopefully, we'd both come out better on the other side.

But now that I'm here, I'm scared. Properly, genuinely, petrifyingly scared. I know what's on the other end of the leash and I know what's in the boxes. I put them there for good reason. They're dangerous and highly destructive and as much as I don't like to remember the fact that they're there, I try all the harder to keep them invisible to the people around me.

So what am I afraid of? I'm afraid of both how and what I'm going to feel between now and the end. I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to control it enough to get what I need out of the experience. And as weird as this is going to sound, I'm honestly afraid I'm really going to like it.

I have to take the plunge far enough to come back out with at least 4,000 words, and in the last three days alone, I've tried and bailed out three times. My fear is beginning to battle my growing frustration because I want it done. I want to get through this because I know I have to. Nobody else can do it for me. I have to do it for me.

I guess what I'm saying in all this is that for the next little while, things are going to get pretty rough over here. How much so, I really don't know. When it's over, though, don't be surprised if I start looking for people to talk to just to get me back to some semblance of reassuring normality and familiarity.

...and I'm probably going to need a good hug or two as well, if that's okay.

Happy Birthday

Dear Devin,

Long time, no see.

To say it's been a while would be both an understatement and profound recognition of the obvious. I'm sorry I've been gone as long as I have, but as we both know, things haven't exactly panned out as we drew it up all those years ago. It's because of that that I figured it was the right time to get back into the fold and also because, despite your continued apprehension to acknowledge it, it's your birthday tomorrow.

Thirty-seven isn't really a landmark occasion, I know, but considering the last five were both figuratively and literally ignored, I think we can and should make an exception for this one. Now I know what you're already thinking, (just a little habit I've picked up along the way, so sue me if you don't like it. Line forms to the right) but just hear me out.

Seriously.

I know it seems like things haven't gotten a whole lot better for you the older you've gotten and the evidence to support the argument is pretty compelling, except for the fact that you're ignoring everything you've managed to do in spite of all the crap you've had to wade through to get there.

I haven't forgotten any of it, either. All the moving around we did as a kid, jumping from one town, to the next, to the next, and so on. Having to make friends and say good-bye in the same year. The endless dysfunctional family routine. The first divorce, the second one, and then your own. Losing Erik. Losing your freedom, your identity and then when you thought you finally had it all put back together, your mind.

Do you remember those months we had to spend bouncing from place to place because we didn't have a home, spending the occasional night in that abandoned Hyundai in the church parking lot, thankful we at least had a coat to keep us warm enough to sleep and not shiver all night? The times we had to steal food or money to eat because no one would give us a job? Or all the days we spent behind those razor-wire fences and in those cells, trying to stay awake because sleep meant being left vulnerable to anyone who wanted to bash your head in or stick a shiv in your neck?

I do. I remember it all along with something you seem to have forgotten.

We got through it. Somehow, some way, we got through it, even when you were so completely certain that we couldn't.

Yes, there was no way either of us could have anticipated the toll it was going to take down the road. I don't think anyone else could've either, so blame yourself if you want to, but it's not entirely your fault, nor does it make you the person you've grown to believe you are. With all that's happened, it makes sense as to why you'd be so confused about that, and I admit, my not being around must not have made it any easier.

But consider this. You've still managed to hang in there, which means you're stronger than you realize. People have doubted and disregarded you and you've still accomplished things you never thought you could do. You went to college, earned degrees, gone to new places, done new things, met some amazing people.

Can you really tell me that was all a fluke? Of course it's not. You busted your hump and worked harder than anyone, including you, has ever really given you credit for. You knew it was never going to be easy, and at times, quitting seemed like the only logical option you had. Except you didn't. Not many people I know could look at things you've had to overcome and found a way to do precisely that. Sure, you didn't always take the best route and yes, you made it a lot harder than it needed to be, but the fact remains you still got to the other side.

To be fair, that's not something to boast or brag about to people to diminish them, but you have the right to own it and be proud of yourself for it. So do it, if for nothing else so you can stop being so afraid of it all coming back to haunt you. The ghosts of the past are just that, Dev. They'll dissipate if you let them.

I know things aren't exactly all sunshine and rainbows right now and that is also a frightening prospect. We've been in tougher scrapes than this though, you and I. This isn't anything really new. It may just seem that way because it feels like you have to get through it on your own. Only you don't. You've got people behind you. Friends. Family. They've been with you this far and a lot of them are still here. Why do you think that is?

Okay, sure, you got your heart handed to you. It happens to everyone at least once, like it or not, and yes, it sucks. It hurts like few things you can imagine. Does that mean you were wrong for caring about those people like you did, or still do? No. You can't make anyone love you if they don't want to, because you can't change them or their minds anymore than you they can change yours. It doesn't mean you have to forget about those feelings or to even stop loving them, but you do need to forgive.

Forgive them. Forgive yourself.

Falling love isn't always a choice and it's only a mistake if it ends up hurting you or someone else, and I know there were times when you said or did something that hurt someone you loved. Does that make you a monster or a "bad guy"? No, because I know you. No matter how angry you get, there is a line you've never crossed. I know why you haven't and I know why you never, ever, will.

You don't want to hurt anyone. You understand and recognize why there's no value in it. If you didn't have that strong of a moral compass, I would be a lot more worried about what you're capable of. The fact that you care so much and how much it bothers you when you even think you may have said or done something wrong confirms how good a soul you have.

Most people don't understand the dangers of their own strength. You do. You've known it since you were 10 years-old, having to stand up for yourself and your family to the man who abused all of you in one way or another. Standing there with a baseball bat in your hand, telling him if you ever saw him again, you'd use it. How you didn't then in that moment, even I don't really know. What matters is that you didn't.

It may not seem like much, but it does matter. It matters a lot.

But you are human, Dev. You're not always going to get it right and more often than not, it's going to go horribly and completely wrong. Welcome to life. It's not designed to be either simple or easy. If it were, you'd take it for granted and the path you've traveled is an object lesson in why you can't do that.

So why don't we start here. At this moment, on this birthday. No, you don't have to do something momentous to mark the occasion, but at least mark it anyway. You've made it to 37, when the over/under was maybe 25 and a whole lot of people were betting the under because it seemed like perhaps the surest thing in the world.

There's always going to be people who doubt you and what you're about. People who don't understand why you are who you are and why you see the world as you do. They come with the territory, but they're not worth stopping to visit. Take the people who care, the ones who love you even with all the mistakes and the awkwardness. The ghosts and the anger and the endless number of regrets, and spend however many days you have left with them. Let them make you laugh, think, wonder, smile, explore and yes, even cry.

They need you and you absolutely need them. Don't shut them out and don't keep telling yourself you don't deserve them, because you're wrong.

Now I've rambled on here long enough and there is a lot of work to be done. I'm not going to lie to you and say it's going to be easy, but if you can get through it, then maybe things will start getting easier from there. But for right now, let's not worry about that.

It's your birthday, after all. Let's make it a happy one, shall we?

You're going to be okay. You're smart enough and you're more than strong enough. I'll help you get through it and I'm not going anywhere. I promise.

Most Sincerely and Respectfully,

-Devin

P.S. - Don't forget to make a wish...and may it be granted.

Game of Questions

I've never considered myself to be much of a logician. That's not to suggest or imply that I don't use logic at all, but rather my brain tends to work on a more empathetic level, which often trumps logic in manners of thought, recognition and understanding.

Of course, it also works the other way, so in that aspect, I suppose it falls into the category of being one or the other, or among the rare few who can land astride the line.

I will concede that it is hard to find solid answers when viewing things through an emotional prism. They are, after all, tumultuous and unpredictable things, whereas logic is considered cold and analytical. It's why, as a culture, we're so fascinated by a fictional character like Mr. Spock or Sherlock Holmes, who can manage to take emotions out of the equation and just see things without that bias which can cloud judgment and alter decisions.

Myself, I've never been much of a Trekkie. Not to say I think Star Trek sucks, but I just never embraced it as my particular show of choice to geek out about.

*Editorial Note - Doctor Who and Farscape, however...now we're talking serious geek-fu fanboy.

My first foray into Trek wasn't actually even the show, but the movies which started coming out after I was born. Over the last week, while I was taking a brief sabbatical from writing, I started watching them again just to have some good escapist fare from the hornet's nest I inadvertently kicked open in my head. Most people are fans of the films by comparison to the many series and to each their own. I happen to like most of them.

*Editorial Note II - I suppose I'm among the few who like the first four movies. Most people hate The Motion Picture, but I happen to enjoy it. Final Frontier still sucks ass, though. There's no kind way in the world to put it.

In going back and rewatching them for the umpteenth time, I realized there's a consistent, underlying aspect of each story which Roddenberry and the screenwriters revisited often, but of course is rooted in a logical paradigm.

"One cannot give an answer when one does not understand the question."

Anyone who ever knew me growing up also had to share in my unabashed geekdom for Tom Stoppard's play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, which, of course, takes Shakespeare's legendary Hamlet and completely turns it on its ear. My favorite part is when the two men square off on a tennis court, but rather than trading volleys with a ball, they trade questions.

I've come to understand that one of my biggest impediments to getting any better, and also why I keep seeming to chase my own tail, is because I am trying to get answers out of myself, without stopping to recognize the questions. It's choosing to just go on instinct and emotion, rather than getting to the root of the problem and determining the most simple solution.

So, with that in mind, time to start asking:

1.) Why are you not happy?

At the moment, I'm unemployed and looking for stability in a career I've wanted for most of my life. I have friends and people who care about me, but I feel detached from them for one reason or another, in no small part because of how the last few years have impacted me, my attitude and my perspective. I have ambitions that have not been achieved and I feel I'm at a loss on how I can get to where I know I'm capable of being physically, mentally and emotionally.

2.) Why are you so afraid of change?

It doesn't seem to make much sense, does it? After all, change from where I'm at would hardly be considered a terrible thing. What it comes down to, in a completely non-sexual way, is that the trajectory on which my life's gone has made me into a masochist. I've grown so used to be being down on myself and not branching out into new things that I'm only really content when I'm miserable and self-deprecating.

It's completely counter-intuitive, I know, but it's also the product of about 35 years of observation, interaction, feedback and most of all reinforcement, most of which was rather negative. The psychological myth is that love is something we're born with, whereas hate is an acquired trait. Over the span of my life, my identity is rooted in that acquisition, and to lose it means I lose how I identify myself, which is a very frightening thing to consider.

3.) Why be that way when hating yourself accomplishes nothing?

I get how the idea of self-confidence is an attractive quality to see in other people. What is overlooked is that it's also a finite resource and those who possess deep reservoirs of it are taught as children in how to find, cultivate, preserve and replenish that. I wasn't one of those lucky kids and have always had a deeper reservoir of self-doubt and self-rejection than I ever did the belief that I was someone special or even someone worthy of praise when I did something well.

Does that mean I don't have any faith in myself or what I can do? No, but it's like trying to find water in a desert. It's there, but if you don't know where or how to find it, you'll drive yourself mad in trying, if the heat doesn't kill you first.

4.) What do you want? Seriously, what would make you feel better right now and don't just say "I don't know," because that shit won't fly anymore.

A steady paycheck again wouldn't be a bad start, but there a lot of things I want. Get out of debt, finish my book and have it published, find a new home, have more time with my son, get my friends back in my life, settle the past, travel, explore, learn. I don't think any of those things are unreasonable or selfish and they're all attainable.

5.) You didn't mention anything about a significant other, though. Sooner or later, you need to try again, right?

Maybe, but not right now. First things first. Get my life back on track and get myself into being someone who is wanted, rather than someone who just wants what he can't have. I spent sixteen years in the only relationship I've ever had and while I learned a lot from it, there's a lot I didn't pay attention to as well. If I can get the other things done, I have confidence that this will come along with it as I evolve.

6.) So what's stopping you from falling back into the same old cycle this time? This is stuff we've heard before, and here we are again.

Fair point. The simple answer is I'm sure there will be times when the self-doubt threatens to overload any self-confidence I've accrued. It's part of the deal, unfortunately. You look at an athlete who's recovering from a physical injury and even if they're in great shape, there are times when they can aggravate it. This is no different, except I have to learn how to stop pulling short when that crippling fear and doubt kick in and just fucking jump.

I don't expect that to be easy at all, and no one should think it's a simple thing either because they may see it from a different vantage point. This is my battle, inside my head, and as much as I wish I could trade places when things are at their worst, I can't. So it's on me to figure a way past it, and I'd rather go through the pitfalls of trial and error than just give up.