Am I trying to be too strong for you?

Is there such a thing as being too compassionate? I had recently read Marissa's take on passion, and it started me on thinking. It's one thing to feel strongly about something, but what about feeling strongly about something someone else is feeling? I have often wondered if I attenuate my own feelings and adjust them to be compatible with someone else's emotions.

There is this trait that I've exhibited as a youth, which some of my friends have taken note of and pointed out to me. I have a white knight in shining armor complex. In other words, I have a penchance towards rescuing damsels in distress, so to speak. For some reason, I am greatly distressed when I see a woman who has been victimized in some way, and feel a great urge to do something that will bring their spirits up. (Come to think of it, this might also explain why I react like I do.)

Growing up, I have been stung badly by women with strong feminist leanings when I offered or even tried to help. It was already confusing enough to grow up with strong physical desires for the opposite sex. When you are offering to help some woman in need only to get rebuffed as if this help was the most repulsive thing on earth, it becomes much harder for soemone to let down their guard in the future. For me, it was very hard to lower my guard enough to stay in a relationship for very long. (In an ironic counterpoint to my strong personality, I am also attracted to woman who are also have a decisive, strong personality.)

I suppose it is something I'll need to work out if I want to stay in a lasting relationship. My reluctance stems from some rather unhappy past experiences and the fear of yet another rejection. Yet, as I've repeated before, as I look for a job, or in this case, a relationship, I only need to be successful once to hit a homerun. Which is why I keep trying, I guess.

This recent introspection was sparked by reading this article, by Carey Roberts, a noted expert on political correctness, gender bias and radical feminism. I happened upon this while searching for somebody else on the 'net who might have discussed this topic. It was one of a very few that even mention this desire to rescue women in distress. Apparently, it continues to fly under the radar.

I am wondering if, in my compassion, I am trying too hard to be the strong anchor upon which someone in distress can cling to. Is my desire to make things right leading me to situations where I must constantly stand tall in the face of opposition? Am I, by wanting to help, even in cases when the help isn't wanted, opening myself up to the poor relationships I have been in? Am I doing these people I am helping a disservice by helping them in their times of trouble? Do I find that being able to pick up the pieces makes me a better person?

Or does it mean that I am the person who always gets shat upon, taken for granted because I am always reliable and able to make things better? Maybe, I will listen to all those women who have told me that they don't need my help. Perhaps, instead of trying to make things better, I will watch and see if the victims can pick themselves off the ground, brush the dirt off and get right back into the fray.

Wouldn't it be ironic if they were able to pick themselves up and get back into the world that knocked them down in the first place? How would I feel if all my efforts were wasted? That I wasn't really needed in the first place?

I suppose that is the true crux of my "complex" when I really get down to it. It's about me, all about selfish me. I need to feel desired, wanted and appreciated. I want the superflous and profuse Thank yous even as I humbly try to pass off their gratitude as if it weren't really much of an effort to be worthy of their praise. I want to be the center of attention, without really having to pay the consequences.

And yet, I do pay for those consequences every time I give something, whether it be time, money, or emotion, to help others who could have just as easily helped themselves. Because of their needs, I give freely a portion of myself without even thinking of repayment. When I get down to the most basic part of it all, I pay with coinage taken out of myself.

When I finally get overwhelmed by the needs of others, I try to pull back into my shell, realizing that I have overtaxed that reserve bank of coins. Spent too much of myself, and now I can't handle the tide of needs being asked of me. In giving parts of myself to others, I have impoverished myself until I, too, am needy even as I continue looking for that gratitude. That, undeniably, is the greatest irony.

There has been this mantra that doctors have recently been espousing: Everything in moderation. I suspect that inner peace may lay in finding the balance between giving too much and being in need. Overcome that need to generate gratitude from others. Perhaps be a bit less giving. Now all I have to do is find that balance as I do this.