Yes, She Really Is That Into You

One of the great tragedies of modern romance is that men have become convinced women communicate the way airport runways do. We expect flashing lights, illuminated arrows, and perhaps a fellow in orange coveralls waving us safely to Gate 12.

Women, alas, have stubbornly refused to cooperate.

Instead, they deploy a communication system that would make the CIA proud. A glance here. A smile there. Standing awfully close to you while pretending to study the dessert menu at the William Penn Hotel. Then they go home convinced they practically proposed marriage, while the fellow spends the evening wondering whether she was merely interested in the crème brûlée.

By the time a man reaches seventy, you’d think he’d have figured this out.

He hasn’t.

I’ve watched widowers at Rotary lunches, Beaver coffee shops, and Frank G’s in Bridgewater conduct themselves with all the romantic confidence of accountants being audited. A perfectly pleasant woman sits beside them, laughs at every joke, remembers their dog’s name, asks whether their knee replacement has healed, and somehow the gentleman concludes she’s probably just being polite.

Gentlemen, allow Grandpa Jim to save you years of unnecessary loneliness.

When a woman likes you, she rarely announces it with a brass band.

She usually begins with her eyes.

Not the quick glance everyone gives strangers, but the second look. She catches your eye, looks away…then looks back. Human beings don’t generally revisit scenery they find uninteresting. If someone keeps checking whether you’re still in the room, odds are you’re occupying more than physical space.

Then comes geography.

Women possess an uncanny ability to appear wherever conversations are about to happen. They don’t chase. They orbit.

You’ll discover her standing beside you while everyone waits for coffee. Somehow she’s in the next chair at Bible study. At the fundraiser she materializes beside the dessert table just as you’re debating whether lemon bars count as fruit. Or perhaps dinner at Frank G’s has ended, yet the two of you are still standing in the parking lot talking while everyone else has already driven home.

Coincidence is a marvelous thing.

It seems to happen repeatedly.

Another clue is something psychologists call mirroring. I call it “accidentally becoming twins.”

You lean back.

She leans back.

You fold your arms.

A few moments later, so does she.

Nobody teaches this. Our nervous systems simply imitate people who make us feel comfortable. It’s one of those marvelous little habits God built into us long before dating coaches discovered PowerPoint.

Compliments deserve careful listening too.

If she tells you your Harris tweed jacket looks nice, that’s pleasant.

If she tells you she feels peaceful talking with you…pay attention.

Older women, perhaps more than younger ones, often fall in love with how a man makes them feel rather than how successfully he impersonates George Clooney. Calm has become a luxury item. Someone who brings steadiness into a room is rarer than someone who brings six-pack abs.

There’s another signal most men never notice because we’re too busy worrying about ourselves.

Watch everyone else.

If other men seek your opinion, laugh at your stories, or—even better—interrupt you just a bit too often, you’ve wandered into that curious territory known as social status. Women notice these things far more than men imagine. They aren’t necessarily impressed by the loudest fellow in the room. They’re watching to see which man remains comfortable without trying to win every conversation.

That’s confidence.

Or at least the appearance of having paid your electric bill on time.

Perhaps the most revealing compliment of all is one you’ve probably brushed aside.

“I can’t believe you’re still single.”

Many men hear that sentence as idle conversation.

It isn’t.

It’s often genuine bewilderment. She’s informing you that, from where she’s standing, you appear to be a desirable catch. Whether she’s volunteering to solve that particular mystery is another question—but don’t miss the first one.

Now comes the part where Grandpa Jim risks sounding like your pastor.

Stop trying so hard.

By our age, the race has already been won by the tortoise.

You don’t need to dominate every conversation. You don’t need to explain your résumé, your investment portfolio, or your cholesterol numbers before the waiter arrives with the entrées. You certainly don’t need to fill every silence with nervous chatter.

Stillness is attractive.

Listening is attractive.

Being genuinely interested is attractive.

Most of all, quit asking yourself, Does she like me?

That’s the wrong question.

A better one is, Do I admire the kind of person she has become? Does she bring peace into my life? Does she laugh easily? Is she kind to waitresses? Does she love God, her family, and her neighbors?

Courtship gets much simpler once you stop interviewing for the position of “acceptable man” and start interviewing for the position of “worthy companion.”

Oddly enough, that’s also the moment people tend to notice you.

Funny how that works.

So if a pleasant widow keeps finding reasons to stand beside you after church, remembers your granddaughter’s birthday, smiles every time you walk into the room, and tells you she always enjoys talking with you…

Please don’t spend the next six months wondering whether she’s merely being courteous.

Invite her to lunch.

If she says yes, make it somewhere with linen tablecloths and enough history that the walls have overheard better conversations than yours. The William Penn has been introducing Pittsburghers to one another for more than a century. Frank G’s has probably started its share of Beaver County romances over a bottle of Cabernet and a plate of veal.

The worst that can happen is you’ll share a good meal with an interesting person.

The best that can happen is that you’ll discover she really was that into you all along—and was simply waiting for you to notice what she’d been saying without saying a word.