Who chooses whom?

I know men who will not initiate contact with a woman on Match.com, no matter how attractive they find her to be. I know women who never wink first. And these are not just women in my age range who were raised to believe that a nice girl doesn't call a boy. There are even 30somethings who believe the man must make the first move.

I occasionally will write a man whose profile I find especially compelling, even if I'm not interested in starting something with him. It's basically the same theory under which I will spend an hour in a wearable art gallery, such as Artemesia in Taos or Santa Fe Weaving Gallery or Limited Additions in Tucson, and discuss with the owner the ins and outs of the garment construction without buying any of the merchandise. I believe the owner, understanding my knowledge of and appreciation for fibers and quality construction, will be complimented by my admiration.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she only wants to hear what I have to say if my comments are accompanied by a sales slip. Maybe the men who write fabulous profiles only want to hear from me when I'm a potential date or mate, even if they are geographically undesireable and a face-to-face meeting is completely impractical.

When I look back at the various long-term men in my life, they have always been men who chose me. I cannot recall an instance when I laid eyes on a man, decided he was the one for me, and set out to convince him of that fact and win him over. Is that indicative of low self-esteem — the old "I don't want to be part of any club that accepts me as a member" situation?

Conversely, with the three marriages that ended in divorce, I did the walking. I got to a point where I knew that I had to leave in order to retain any self-respect (or, in a couple of cases, my life), so I packed up whatever I had walked in the door with, and walked right back out the door, ten, five, and two-and-a-half years later.

You're probably sick of hearing about my Little Adoptee. God knows I'm sick of living with her. But I suppose placing that much power in the hands of the man in any relationship could very easily be related to my fear of abandonment and need for acceptance. "I'll sit here quietly until you decide if you want me. If you do, then we'll move forward. If you don't, then I'll go away just as quietly as I sat here waiting."

How's that working for me, you ask. Not terrifically well, but it's really the only way I know to do it, so I guess I'll keep on with this tactic until something else occurs to me. Something probably far wiser.