How do i want to be remembered essay

Please forward this error screen to 209. What happens if you decide that falling in love is how do i want to be remembered essay something that happens to you, but something that you do?

Internet Explorer 9 or earlier. Go to the home page to see the latest top stories. More than 20 years ago, the psychologist Arthur Aron succeeded in making two strangers fall in love in his laboratory. Last summer, I applied his technique in my own life, which is how I found myself standing on a bridge at midnight, staring into a man’s eyes for exactly four minutes.

I suspect, given a few commonalities, you could fall in love with anyone. If so, how do you choose someone? But this was the first time we had hung out one-on-one. I’ve always wanted to try it. I first read about the study when I was in the midst of a breakup. Each time I thought of leaving, my heart overruled my brain.

So, like a good academic, I turned to science, hoping there was a way to love smarter. I explained the study to my university acquaintance. A heterosexual man and woman enter the lab through separate doors. They sit face to face and answer a series of increasingly personal questions. Then they stare silently into each other’s eyes for four minutes.

The most tantalizing detail: Six months later, two participants were married. They invited the entire lab to the ceremony. Let me acknowledge the ways our experiment already fails to line up with the study. First, we were in a bar, not a lab. Not only that, but I see now that one neither suggests nor agrees to try an experiment designed to create romantic love if one isn’t open to this happening.

Would you like to be famous? When did you last sing to yourself? But they quickly became probing. I think we’re both interested in each other.

I grinned and gulped my beer as he listed two more commonalities I then promptly forgot. We exchanged stories about the last time we each cried, and confessed the one thing we’d like to ask a fortuneteller. We explained our relationships with our mothers. The questions reminded me of the infamous boiling frog experiment in which the frog doesn’t feel the water getting hotter until it’s too late. With us, because the level of vulnerability increased gradually, I didn’t notice we had entered intimate territory until we were already there, a process that can typically take weeks or months.

I liked learning about myself through my answers, but I liked learning things about him even more. The bar, which was empty when we arrived, had filled up by the time we paused for a bathroom break. I sat alone at our table, aware of my surroundings for the first time in an hour, and wondered if anyone had been listening to our conversation. If they had, I hadn’t noticed. And I didn’t notice as the crowd thinned and the night got late. We all have a narrative of ourselves that we offer up to strangers and acquaintances, but Dr.

Aron’s questions make it impossible to rely on that narrative. Ours was the kind of accelerated intimacy I remembered from summer camp, staying up all night with a new friend, exchanging the details of our short lives. At 13, away from home for the first time, it felt natural to get to know someone quickly. But rarely does adult life present us with such circumstances. The moments I found most uncomfortable were not when I had to make confessions about myself, but had to venture opinions about my partner. Aron’s research focuses on creating interpersonal closeness. In particular, several studies investigate the ways we incorporate others into our sense of self.