I realized in my 3 and a bit years in recovery that relationship is relationship. How I engage with others will be reflected in all my relationships: family, friends, romantic, myself. So I need to make the healthy choices now, today, in this relationship or it's going to continue biting me in the ass.
Over the past few days I've been feeling like I've 'realized' that a particular friendship isn't working. The physicality of this experience is like someone is screaming inside my head and there's a loudness that is being contained by my skull, a feeling of being frozen/trapped/can't move, a full body tension of wanting to run away. I've been working on tuning into my bodily sensations, it is not easy. More on that another time.
So I realized that this relationship is not working. Now what? Do I repair it? Do I tell them? Does it need to be in person? Traditionally there's all this hype about how it's 'unfair' to break up with people in text. Why exactly is it unfair? Does it apply to friendships? I can empathize with being on the receiving end of 'it's over' from a friend. Sounds painful. But is it more painful that someone pretending to be your friend even though they feel like someone is screaming inside their head?
I send love to all the people that don't want me in their life. I embrace them in their bravery to recognize what they need, especially women who feel the need to take care of everyone's feelings at the expense of their own needs. FUCK that. I can't take care of this friend's experience of me needing out. I don't have the capacity. I'm doing the best that I can and that's enough. I am enough.
I wrote a letter of forgiveness to myself in this process and the part that stood out for me most was, "I forgive myself, in the past, in the present and in the future for any mistakes I make in relationships. If relationships are meant to thrive, they will endure my mistakes." It feels true, it is true.
My body feels jittery with nervousness and excitement about trying something radically new: Taking care of my own emotional needs above all else. Oooo shit.
Something with my sponsor also resonated with me...I don't owe this person anything. We have shared our lives with each other and that is a gift, I am so grateful for the time we spent together, the things we learned from one another, and the support we mutually gave. There is no tab to pay up or IOU at the end.
It appears that I have all these rules and contractual agreements that I think I've entered into when I engage in various relationships. I'm 'supposed' to do all kinds of things, but it's exhausting and then I want to avoid these people because I feel so tired. I'm hopeful that my next friend is also aware of their internal rules and contracts and checks in with themselves so they can make decisions if it's a clause that they are holding on to or letting go or having a conversation with me about.
Some of the rules of friendship (which apply to some other relationships) that are no longer working for me are as follows:
1. I owe it to someone to have a conversation if I am feeling tired in the relationship because they deserve a thorough explanation as to why I'm doing something so 'horrible and mean'. Even if I don't have a particular answer, but a confusing buildup of many nuanced interactions that have given me enough information that I see we are not compatible.
2. I must be super honest and vulnerable in all the relationships I consider close, even if it is not reciprocated.
3. I need certain people in my life or I will die.
4. If I decide a relationship is too much for me, it is my fault and I have to fix it.
5. I'm not allowed to suddenly realize I no longer want to be around someone, but we have to have several painful and uncomfortable conversation that leave me exhausted attempting to negotiate how we can continue the relationship in some way.
Away with you RULES! I set myself free in enthusiastically breaking them!!!
Monday, April 20, 2020
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Intimacy With/Out Sex
I've been searching for a way to have intimacy without sex for a long time. I crave intimacy and I always have. At times I feel like an intimacy addict. Intimacy is not always happy and smiling, sometimes it is conflict and struggle. My family just went out for breakfast and we were all on different pages, some were very hungry, we couldn't decide on a restaurant, there were tiny arguments starting here and there like little fires. It was extremely intimate being on the inside of a car with all of this going on. I remember it from road trips with my parents and brother. Tiny spaces with a few different agendas trying to find one path :) And everyone matters.
It's not intimacy with family that I lack though, or with girlfriends. I find it quite easy to connect with women and share emotional intimacy, though I find myself hesitant to engage physically with them, even on a non-sexual level. I catch myself wishing to take a friend's hand and hold it for a bit or snuggling up to them, but I fear their reaction. I find myself holding back in these relationships. I don't feel that it is acceptable to ask a good girlfriend to snuggle with me for a few minutes. I worry that they will be uncomfortable with the request. Part of it is the longevity of the relationship, I've moved around so much that most of my friendships are newer.
With men it is easy to find physical intimacy, but difficult to achieve emotional intimacy. Lots of men, and boys, want to fuck me. It's nice, but it's not fulfilling. I thought it was what I wanted and I still crave that kind of attention. But when it comes down to the moment of actual sexual contact, I become turned off. It's all about the moments before that for me. The eye contact, the brush of a hand, someone trying to make me laugh, looking interested in what I have to say. That's the addicting part. Once sex becomes involved then I am not able to believe that the person was actually interested in me. Just another fuck. This is all in a short period of time usually, if it were maintained over a longer period of time, showing sustained interest, perhaps that would be different.
The instance that I am turning around in my head is my recent physical intimacy with a friend. At first I felt it were inevitable that this friend and I would end up having sex. After a couple instances of hanging out, making out and sleeping together, I realized that intercourse was not I wanted. I also realized that I had some CONTROL over whether or not it was going to happen. I have been in situations where I have slept next to men before without having intercourse, but it would only be one night.
So my realization led to a couple of conversations and my friend asked 'why?'. Why did I not want to have intercourse with him? I believe I said something about my emotional reaction to said act, but since then I've felt the need to expand on my thought process.
It is not because I'm not attracted to him. It's because I'm bored. I'm tired of the emotional trauma/drama that comes with making love to a man. Because that's what it is to me. I've long been afraid that I would not find a suitable partner for myself. It still niggles in the back of my mind, but at this point I'm more afraid I'll never be able to have sex without feeling disappointed with myself. Maybe I didn't make them work hard enough for it, maybe I'm too easy, too eager, too desperate. Maybe I don't have enough self worth, self esteem, good judgment, good advice.
I feel these social pressures to behave a certain way. If I'm going to be promiscuous, then the man has to put a certain amount of effort into trying to have sex with me. What is enough effort? The real answer, which I can now see, is when I want to have sex too. The previous answer, which I am attempting to come to terms with, was much less. I would usually feel guilty once we were at someone's house, in someone's bed and feel that it was my duty to cater to the man's desires. I felt that I had made some kind of promise to them by that point by ending up in those circumstances. I am not proud of these feelings.
I cannot have random sexual exploits without them taking a toll on my emotional, and therefore physical health. I love sex and it is a coping strategy for me. Helps me deal with stress, helps me deal with loneliness, helps me cope with life. Silver lining...double-edged sword...no happy ending, just scattered happy moments.
The definition of insanity is expecting a different result from the same action.
It's not intimacy with family that I lack though, or with girlfriends. I find it quite easy to connect with women and share emotional intimacy, though I find myself hesitant to engage physically with them, even on a non-sexual level. I catch myself wishing to take a friend's hand and hold it for a bit or snuggling up to them, but I fear their reaction. I find myself holding back in these relationships. I don't feel that it is acceptable to ask a good girlfriend to snuggle with me for a few minutes. I worry that they will be uncomfortable with the request. Part of it is the longevity of the relationship, I've moved around so much that most of my friendships are newer.
With men it is easy to find physical intimacy, but difficult to achieve emotional intimacy. Lots of men, and boys, want to fuck me. It's nice, but it's not fulfilling. I thought it was what I wanted and I still crave that kind of attention. But when it comes down to the moment of actual sexual contact, I become turned off. It's all about the moments before that for me. The eye contact, the brush of a hand, someone trying to make me laugh, looking interested in what I have to say. That's the addicting part. Once sex becomes involved then I am not able to believe that the person was actually interested in me. Just another fuck. This is all in a short period of time usually, if it were maintained over a longer period of time, showing sustained interest, perhaps that would be different.
The instance that I am turning around in my head is my recent physical intimacy with a friend. At first I felt it were inevitable that this friend and I would end up having sex. After a couple instances of hanging out, making out and sleeping together, I realized that intercourse was not I wanted. I also realized that I had some CONTROL over whether or not it was going to happen. I have been in situations where I have slept next to men before without having intercourse, but it would only be one night.
So my realization led to a couple of conversations and my friend asked 'why?'. Why did I not want to have intercourse with him? I believe I said something about my emotional reaction to said act, but since then I've felt the need to expand on my thought process.
It is not because I'm not attracted to him. It's because I'm bored. I'm tired of the emotional trauma/drama that comes with making love to a man. Because that's what it is to me. I've long been afraid that I would not find a suitable partner for myself. It still niggles in the back of my mind, but at this point I'm more afraid I'll never be able to have sex without feeling disappointed with myself. Maybe I didn't make them work hard enough for it, maybe I'm too easy, too eager, too desperate. Maybe I don't have enough self worth, self esteem, good judgment, good advice.
I feel these social pressures to behave a certain way. If I'm going to be promiscuous, then the man has to put a certain amount of effort into trying to have sex with me. What is enough effort? The real answer, which I can now see, is when I want to have sex too. The previous answer, which I am attempting to come to terms with, was much less. I would usually feel guilty once we were at someone's house, in someone's bed and feel that it was my duty to cater to the man's desires. I felt that I had made some kind of promise to them by that point by ending up in those circumstances. I am not proud of these feelings.
I cannot have random sexual exploits without them taking a toll on my emotional, and therefore physical health. I love sex and it is a coping strategy for me. Helps me deal with stress, helps me deal with loneliness, helps me cope with life. Silver lining...double-edged sword...no happy ending, just scattered happy moments.
The definition of insanity is expecting a different result from the same action.
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Missing You
Missing you, can't wait to see you again
Missing you, somehow you became my best friend
Where are you, are thinking about me now
Missing you, wish you could get here somehow
Missing you, somehow you became my best friend
Where are you, are thinking about me now
Missing you, wish you could get here somehow
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Post-Friendship Breakup
I have been reflecting on my Privilege post (http://softpinkpetals.blogspot.ca/2016/09/privilage.html) and wondering if the situation inspired my behavior, or if maybe I should take a little more credit for being an ass and realize that I act out when I'm uncomfortable.
Dinners in restaurants where I can't afford the tab make me uncomfortable because I feel like I don't belong somewhere I can't afford. One of my biggest fears is that somehow I'll develop a desire to live outside of my means. To want things that I can't buy. There's just such a weight of debt that hangs over my mother and causes so much stress, that it became one of my greatest fears.
My mother seems like a reasonable person to me. I feel like I know her fairly well. But I can't understand how people get in the position of spending so much money that they don't have. I've lived a privileged life in that I received money towards going to college and my education was inexpensive so I never needed to take out a loan in order to go to school. I'm not sure I would have gone if it wasn't paid for. I wonder sometimes. I wonder how it affects my perception of the value of my education or contributes to the fact that I haven't pursued my career path harder.
Part of the reason I haven't pursued counseling more aggressively is because I fear taking out a loan. Haha! Full circle. I fear debt.
But back to being an ass. I act out when I'm in situations where I feel uncomfortable. On one such occasion it caused the end of a friendship and a lasting feeling of shame and regret in my memory. I even convinced myself that I was somehow possessed that night...possessed by jealousy and insecurity.
Crystal was one of my older friends in college, which made her seem extra cool. She was beautiful and interesting and sweet. I think I met her in a class, but I can't quite remember. We found out we were neighbours and begun to hang out together, she showed me a new route to bike to university, and we crafted together. She told me secrets about her relationship with her boyfriend and shared her life openly with me.
One night she invited me to come for dinner with her and her boyfriend before we went out to see a show with some other friends of theirs. The moment I walked into their cute 2 bedrooms apartment that they occupied together a strange feeling swept over me. It's only now that I can identify it as pure jealousy. I don't know if I'd ever been more jealous in my life. I wanted the perfect street artist boyfriend that I lived with in a funky apartment with and had little dinner parties. I was so desperate and afraid that I would never have that. That no one would ever love me enough to make a life with me.
I blew the evening, got wasted, blabbed to the boyfriend specific secrets that Crystal had told me were in confidence. Pissed everyone off, including the friends later on in the evening. Passed out at someones house, got told off quite colourfully by a friend of the boyfriend for something and then Crystal ended up escorting me home despite everything and I innocently acted like nothing had happened. Bless her for not leaving me on the street somewhere.
Needless to say things were never the same between us again. She was never unkind to me afterwards, but she was not trustful either. Which I don't blame her for at all. She even tried to meet up with me a couple years later when she heard I was on the west coast after she had moved there, but decided against it at the last minute and stood me up.
It was so painful for me. Losing a friend over my own feelings of shortcoming. Such shame I've felt over the years. I still feel a slight ache and it has been around 10 years since these events. I just couldn't believe how I acted. I felt at times through the night and when I replayed it in my head that I was watching it all happen, that I was not really in control of myself.
I appreciate films that can capture this kind of awkward social pain because it makes me feel less alone. It was a terrible thing I did. But I am not a terrible person. It's hard to know that someone out there thinks of me as one. Or at least I feel she does. Perhaps she doesn't even think about me. I am very sorry about this event, but I also need to let it go. I'm afraid if I let myself stop hurting over it, that it might happen again. I'm still insecure at times, but not to the extent I was at that time. I've grown up quite a bit.
I'm sorry Crystal. And I forgive myself, I'm sure you'd understand.
Dinners in restaurants where I can't afford the tab make me uncomfortable because I feel like I don't belong somewhere I can't afford. One of my biggest fears is that somehow I'll develop a desire to live outside of my means. To want things that I can't buy. There's just such a weight of debt that hangs over my mother and causes so much stress, that it became one of my greatest fears.
My mother seems like a reasonable person to me. I feel like I know her fairly well. But I can't understand how people get in the position of spending so much money that they don't have. I've lived a privileged life in that I received money towards going to college and my education was inexpensive so I never needed to take out a loan in order to go to school. I'm not sure I would have gone if it wasn't paid for. I wonder sometimes. I wonder how it affects my perception of the value of my education or contributes to the fact that I haven't pursued my career path harder.
Part of the reason I haven't pursued counseling more aggressively is because I fear taking out a loan. Haha! Full circle. I fear debt.
But back to being an ass. I act out when I'm in situations where I feel uncomfortable. On one such occasion it caused the end of a friendship and a lasting feeling of shame and regret in my memory. I even convinced myself that I was somehow possessed that night...possessed by jealousy and insecurity.
Crystal was one of my older friends in college, which made her seem extra cool. She was beautiful and interesting and sweet. I think I met her in a class, but I can't quite remember. We found out we were neighbours and begun to hang out together, she showed me a new route to bike to university, and we crafted together. She told me secrets about her relationship with her boyfriend and shared her life openly with me.
One night she invited me to come for dinner with her and her boyfriend before we went out to see a show with some other friends of theirs. The moment I walked into their cute 2 bedrooms apartment that they occupied together a strange feeling swept over me. It's only now that I can identify it as pure jealousy. I don't know if I'd ever been more jealous in my life. I wanted the perfect street artist boyfriend that I lived with in a funky apartment with and had little dinner parties. I was so desperate and afraid that I would never have that. That no one would ever love me enough to make a life with me.
I blew the evening, got wasted, blabbed to the boyfriend specific secrets that Crystal had told me were in confidence. Pissed everyone off, including the friends later on in the evening. Passed out at someones house, got told off quite colourfully by a friend of the boyfriend for something and then Crystal ended up escorting me home despite everything and I innocently acted like nothing had happened. Bless her for not leaving me on the street somewhere.
Needless to say things were never the same between us again. She was never unkind to me afterwards, but she was not trustful either. Which I don't blame her for at all. She even tried to meet up with me a couple years later when she heard I was on the west coast after she had moved there, but decided against it at the last minute and stood me up.
It was so painful for me. Losing a friend over my own feelings of shortcoming. Such shame I've felt over the years. I still feel a slight ache and it has been around 10 years since these events. I just couldn't believe how I acted. I felt at times through the night and when I replayed it in my head that I was watching it all happen, that I was not really in control of myself.
I appreciate films that can capture this kind of awkward social pain because it makes me feel less alone. It was a terrible thing I did. But I am not a terrible person. It's hard to know that someone out there thinks of me as one. Or at least I feel she does. Perhaps she doesn't even think about me. I am very sorry about this event, but I also need to let it go. I'm afraid if I let myself stop hurting over it, that it might happen again. I'm still insecure at times, but not to the extent I was at that time. I've grown up quite a bit.
I'm sorry Crystal. And I forgive myself, I'm sure you'd understand.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Privilage
Last night my family went out to dinner to celebrate our house selling. The end of an era for my family. We went to a fancy restaurant and got waited on by staff that was attentive and charming. I used to enjoy these outings when I was growing up as a child. I enjoyed putting on make-up and getting dressed up and eating tasty food that I wouldn't cook for myself.
There are still aspects of this tradition that I enjoy, but now it's tainted by a realization of class.
Class has rarely been something that I've consciously thought about, but it's come up in conversation a few times recently. Status. I think there are two big reasons that it has become more a part of my reality. One is my sister-in-law and the other is my step mother. Both consider status a priority. I feel a chasm between us when it comes to keeping up appearances. One that is easier to bridge with my step mother because we have other things in common, but I find it hard to reach my sister-in-law.
Status makes me uncomfortable. I don't desire, nor to I understand the desire, to spend heaps of money (or spend heaps of money I don't have) on things that represent to others that I might have heaps of money. As I get older, I realize that these things are important, to an extent, to my own parents as well. I was raising in an immediate culture where class was important.
Class relates to intelligence, class relates to health, class relates to safety. Class is an invisible promise.
In this environment of an expensive restaurant, I found myself being snobby. Complaining about what wasn't good enough about the meal, even though it was excellent. As the wine flowed, my complaints grew louder and I couldn't seem to help myself. As we walked out of the restaurant, I felt embarrassed by my own behavior. Bizarre.
I felt troubled and uncomfortable with myself.
Strange.
Who was I trying to be? Who am I? Am I truly a snob? Maybe I was just looking for attention.
I am definitely not one to live outside my means, but I have also been given false means to live within at times. My grandparents funded my education and travel. I have lived a life of leisure to an extent. I feel that I owe the world something. I felt guilty during college that one of my best friends was working and she held a 4.0 average at school, while I was partying, not going into debt and also not getting very good grades.
I was taught that education was given, not earned. I believe that higher education should be free to those that want it. Would I have even gone if it had been free? I never really questioned whether I would go or not because I went to a mostly white college preparatory school where everyone at least applied to college, there was a course for it.
I just don't want to be a bad person.
There are still aspects of this tradition that I enjoy, but now it's tainted by a realization of class.
Class has rarely been something that I've consciously thought about, but it's come up in conversation a few times recently. Status. I think there are two big reasons that it has become more a part of my reality. One is my sister-in-law and the other is my step mother. Both consider status a priority. I feel a chasm between us when it comes to keeping up appearances. One that is easier to bridge with my step mother because we have other things in common, but I find it hard to reach my sister-in-law.
Status makes me uncomfortable. I don't desire, nor to I understand the desire, to spend heaps of money (or spend heaps of money I don't have) on things that represent to others that I might have heaps of money. As I get older, I realize that these things are important, to an extent, to my own parents as well. I was raising in an immediate culture where class was important.
Class relates to intelligence, class relates to health, class relates to safety. Class is an invisible promise.
In this environment of an expensive restaurant, I found myself being snobby. Complaining about what wasn't good enough about the meal, even though it was excellent. As the wine flowed, my complaints grew louder and I couldn't seem to help myself. As we walked out of the restaurant, I felt embarrassed by my own behavior. Bizarre.
I felt troubled and uncomfortable with myself.
Strange.
Who was I trying to be? Who am I? Am I truly a snob? Maybe I was just looking for attention.
I am definitely not one to live outside my means, but I have also been given false means to live within at times. My grandparents funded my education and travel. I have lived a life of leisure to an extent. I feel that I owe the world something. I felt guilty during college that one of my best friends was working and she held a 4.0 average at school, while I was partying, not going into debt and also not getting very good grades.
I was taught that education was given, not earned. I believe that higher education should be free to those that want it. Would I have even gone if it had been free? I never really questioned whether I would go or not because I went to a mostly white college preparatory school where everyone at least applied to college, there was a course for it.
I just don't want to be a bad person.
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Ode to a Teenage Love
I gave you a piece of my heart
Planning for you to wear it proudly on a chain around your neck
Brag about it to your friends
But you tucked it away responsibly in your desk for safe keeping
Time passed and other things were squirreled away in that same desk
A collection of useful and micellaneous objects
Covering up that precious piece of heart
Forgotten
More time passed and though I'd not forgotten about you
I had given up trying to ensure that you would not forget about me
Finding comfort in the belief that maybe one day the universe would reunite us
While accepting that it may not
A few years later you move out of your apartment
Cleaning out your desk, you find the heart
Dusty and rolled in pencil shavings you don't recognize it at first
But when you do your breath catches and you sit hard on the bed pondering
You're older now and you wonder if you would have done things differently
You wonder where I am and how I'm doing
You wonder if you deserved this heart, if you earned it
You remember I told you I loved you the time I saw you last
And, I won't forget, you responded, "I love you too."
Planning for you to wear it proudly on a chain around your neck
Brag about it to your friends
But you tucked it away responsibly in your desk for safe keeping
Time passed and other things were squirreled away in that same desk
A collection of useful and micellaneous objects
Covering up that precious piece of heart
Forgotten
More time passed and though I'd not forgotten about you
I had given up trying to ensure that you would not forget about me
Finding comfort in the belief that maybe one day the universe would reunite us
While accepting that it may not
A few years later you move out of your apartment
Cleaning out your desk, you find the heart
Dusty and rolled in pencil shavings you don't recognize it at first
But when you do your breath catches and you sit hard on the bed pondering
You're older now and you wonder if you would have done things differently
You wonder where I am and how I'm doing
You wonder if you deserved this heart, if you earned it
You remember I told you I loved you the time I saw you last
And, I won't forget, you responded, "I love you too."
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