The perils of being a “nice guy”

We all know the old saying, ‘Nice Guys Finish Last’ (it’s even a Green Day song), but as I get older I can’t help but think about how true that statement usually is, or at least can be, in various instances.

There’s the story of this child that was always ready to make friends in grade school. The kid wanted to play with anyone on the playground, meandering to and fro from the jocks to the jokesters, the less well-to-do kids to the tomboys, the boys and the girls (only two genders in those days). Many times the fun ended with the ring of the bell to go back to class, but sometimes it ended in basketballs being kicked to a bent wrist and a visit to the school nurse, jumping off the highest heights of the swings and another trip to the school nurse, a knock to the pavement, possible concussion, and – you guessed it – a trip to the school nurse.

At least once a year the kid’s fun would be cut short by some idiotic face-off with 1-5 bullies versus the nice kid, where the “nice kid’s” asthma-steroid-induced temper would show the rest that even nice kids had a breaking point, and the bully, or kid, or both, would get hurt, and instead of the school nurse it was off to see the principal. Yet the nice kid being nice, eventually the bully and kid became friends.

There’s this other case where this young man, again a nice guy, would go out of his way to be thoughtful in gift-giving. The flowers, surprise candle lit picnics on the beach, random kayaking adventures, special dining with Shamu, and bevy of mailed packages would sometimes work, and sometimes be to no avail.

There was this one instance where a nice guy in late 20-something thought he found “the one” ... yet it turned out only to be half-true. That nice guy found out that “love” can be fleeting from one side but not always from both sides, so he went on searching for True Love, of the un-fleeting, unconditional variety.

Spoiler in case you haven’t already figured it out: The nice kid, nice young man, and nice 20-somethings guy were all me.

In other words, while being the nice guy as a child certainly did get me a very few genuine friends, it also got me a world of bullies and instances of going to the principal that I really didn’t need to experience quite so often.

Fast forward through the failures of my dating life and the funny/witty guy thing has worked (to an extent), but the “nice guy” thing tends to be an underlying leak in the boat that usually gets me stuck in that dreaded Bermuda Triangle known as the “friend zone,” where all romantic hope goes to disappear and eventually die. I’m not naïve enough to think that that’s the only reason there haven’t been tons of prospects up to this point (looking back I’d say I’ve done alright though), but now that I am definitely working on some of those other points, I know a small line might begin to form soon. It’s only a matter of time.

The thing is, I know enough about the human psyche to know that, in the dating world, being solely a “nice guy” is almost like a kiss of death – yet at the same time – those women out there with experience know that there are a LOT of Grade A-(donkeys) out there, and it’s not until they’ve experienced enough donkeys do they learn the true value of the “nice guys” out there, which is usually much later in life.

In other words, it takes women (and men) time stepping on those landmines in the dating world and blowing off a few limbs before they realize they should be looking for a good person rather than solely what looks good on the outside. This realization doesn’t come without bad experiences, but no one emerges on the other side unscathed (which is why ‘tis far better to learn from other’s mistakes than to make them yourself).

It’s a sad state, but it is what it is. “Not all that sparkles is gold,” or rather, “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” since looks fade over time. What’s more, it deters us ‘ nice guys’ from being who we really are deep down.

So here I am, presently, with a little curly-haired angel on my shoulder telling me. “Just spend time with (them) so (they) can see what a genuinely nice man you are,” but the ghost of relationship’s past as appears as a certain 1930’s caricature, red, with horns and a tail saying “Yeah, look at how well that worked last time…sucker.” (See: “all-sides curse.”) Oh well, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

So, while some people may be overly concerned with getting in the final chance to get in the fat-ness of the upcoming “Fat Tuesday” before they decide to give something up for Lent, I think for me, I’m going to really try and utilize this time of sacrifice to allow God to help me re-find myself.

I know who I am, I know what I want, but rather than just constantly asking Him to give me what I want, I reckon I’ll take these 40 days in the desert to find out how GOD sees me and what HE wants for me. That means on top of the sacrifices I am already making to gain a better health-state, I’ll be upping prayer, upping church attendance (as much as this job allows), and making good on all those “I’ll pray for you” claims I’ve made in good faith but put off until now. With any luck, God will make this “nice guy” a “holy guy,” which would finally draw the right bee to this newly re-formed ‘ holy honey.’

A holy, Roman, Catholic, if you will (har-har). A new empire? (No, too much.)

Though that’s not really why I’ll be doing it, with any luck, that’ll be the effect anyway. Anyway, here’s to hopin’. Happy Lent! Yours in Christ: Your Friendly IVP Editor.