Feel free to skip this blog. It seems very mundane and unimportant to me, but it did help me to write it nonetheless
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Tonight I'm not going over my past. I went through the rest of the journal I had been working, on the way through 2002, but there was pretty much nothing in it. Mainly it was about boys and girl drama and missing my family on a high level only. The only real detail in there came from this entry:
06/14/2002
I love Lisa to death. The other day, she asked me if we'd always be best friends. Smiling, I just said, "Forever." I wish there were more things I could do for her. She's truly precious. I hate the circumstances that keep us apart. But they won't even let her spend the night! Any of them! Those three kids mean the world to me, and it kills me that I can't be there for them when they need me. Lisa calls me every day, but that isn't nearly enough. She's about to reach middle school and puberty, that really tough time in a girl's life. I need to be there for her if she comes home in tears-be there to hold and reassure her. I needed that at her age, and she probably will too. Family sucks when it's divided. She says she can't wait until we're both 18, because then we can see each other whenever we please, or even live with each other if we feel the need. My heart goes out to her tonight.
A real entry. Something of my emotion showing through. And all of that is true-my sister means more to me than anybody save my children. She's wonderful.
I can't concentrate on the details from what happened when and where and why and how tonight. Tonight while reading through the journals I could only focus on the people I'd had in my life. Good memories, bad memories, whatever they may be, that's what stuck out at me. Looking at my entries I saw how my home life colored most of the relationships I had been in. In a way I wish it didn't-they could have been so much more had I not been such a paranoid freak that needed constant confirmation of her worth. I'm not really looking at the "could have beens" here though...just sort of analyzing myself and how I responded to the people in my life.
Of course there was my first love. He opened my eyes to so many new things. He could talk me into anything. He got me on my first roller coaster (with the assistance of Delaney), I ate my first fondue with him, rode in my first kayak...he represented for me most of what was good in my life during that time. We dated for over a year straight, then off-and-on over the course of the next year. At least 3/4 of that journal is filled with me rambling on and on about him. We're "FB friends" now. I've browsed through his pictures like I do most old friends. I've seen his posts from all over the place. He's traveled the world, met so many people and done so many things. He's such a great guy and I wish him all the best. Even through the saddest entries, the ones where my teardrops stained the pages, I had nothing but love for him. I trusted him, and this is the only relationship I've ever been able to say that about.
When we split, however...it wasn't pretty. Since neither of us had been single for so long several of our friends suddenly began asking us out. That made it pretty strenuous since we were friends with so many of the same people. Hell, Delaney later confessed that she went out on a date with him shortly after we broke up. I was suddenly alone. After all that time of having someone there to hold me when I cried I had gotten used to it. So of course I immediately began searching for it again.
This was not a wise decision for me. I was already emotionally unhinged and I was really just asking for trouble by being in so many "relationships." I was never single for more than a week at a time. That lasted up through my second marriage-until this year I hadn't been "single" since I was 13. That's 10 straight years of looking for someone to make me feel alright.
And that's all I wanted-someone to hold me. I didn't care about sex (I actually did lose my virginity at 16, but I married the guy I gave it up to...I don't know why that's significant to me, I'll deal with that later). I didn't care about gifts or romance or butterflies in my stomach. I just wanted someone to be there and comfort me.
I went on a couple of dates with an older guy from another school. We had met at a summer band camp I attended, and I thought he was super cute. That didn't really pan out because it turned out he was really only interested in one thing-and I wasn't ready for that crap. Yet for the few times we went out I would pace the floors, waiting for the phone to ring, obsessing over him calling. Because what if he didn't call? What did that make me?
I was convinced that if I didn't have someone to love me then I was worthless. Obviously there was nobody at home that I felt I was loved by except my sister, and we weren't allowed to see each other at this point. People mocked me. They called me boy-crazy, called me a slut and a whore. They said it to people that had no qualms about repeating it in front of me. It hurt, but not as much as not having someone-as not being wanted.
The next guy I had a "relationship" with was trouble and I knew it. He'd cheated on everyone he'd ever dated, and he cheated on me as well. He'd had a difficult childhood himself and we bonded over that. He lived with a foster family that was not very nice to him. He showered me with affection though, and that's all I needed. Sometimes he took it further than I was comfortable with, but hey, he loved me right? Didn't he tell me that every day? Didn't he say I was beautiful?
It wasn't a healthy relationship at all. I knew what he was up to, caught him lying to me several times. I went along with it, stayed with him. Sometimes I'd go through the trouble of breaking up with him just to get right back together. We went to prom together, he wrote me duets to play together, we were both in youth band outside of school...we did have a lot in common. He's just not the type to ever be faithful. We're also still friends-he's getting remarried (this is the only one of his wives that I haven't met), and has some beautiful kids that I had the pleasure of meeting. He finally seems to be getting himself straightened out. And I'm so very happy for him. :)
The next guy...let's call him Zeke..we only dated for about a month. I never got to know him that well, but I was infatuated with him. He seemed like such a bad boy, but he was so so sweet to me. I also obsessed over his phone calls or lack thereof.. I was suspicious when he was with his friends. To be short, I was a paranoid, jealous nutjob. It ended shortly after I wouldn't sleep with him. But you know, I never told him I was a virgin (well, y'know, consensual at least). I guess he thought I was just being a bitch.
My current husband left me last year. For a little while in September 2010, Zeke and I reconnected. I hurt him. I didn't intend to, but my crazy self was even more so at that point in time-I was in fear of losing my house, afraid the ex would take off with the kids...it was just a bad situation. He hasn't spoken to me since, which bothers me. We weren't always close, but I've always genuinely liked him. It kinda hurts to think about him even now, because I wanted to make it right and he wouldn't allow me to do so.
Anyway, back where I left off. I broke up with Zeke via email because he had stopped answering my phone calls. I casually dated up until September 2002. I didn't just go on a date with this person this time, this person another time-no, I wanted fully committed relationships. They usually lasted a week or two. Looking back at it I realize it was a terrible pattern. The snide remarks made about me only intensified. I began to hate myself more and more, needed more reassurance that I was a lovable person.
It was September 2002 that I began to date my first husband. I had actually met him freshman year but I was seeing someone else. Then one day I was navigating down the hall and boom, there he was. He's 6'4", so he was pretty hard to miss. He stopped to help me to class (I was on crutches), and that was it. He was my everything. I'll get to our story later, because there's so much more to it and I just can't go over it tonight. It's hard for me to talk about him even now. Let's go ahead and assign him a fake name too-he shall be henceforth referred to as Nathan.
I guess the reason why all this was so important is that it was because of a boyfriend that I got kicked out. Minnie didn't approve of me dating a black guy, but I was going to do it anyway (this was during a time that Nathan and I had broken up-it didn't last more than 2 weeks). She threatened me with foster care. She said if Mom didn't come get me then that was it. I'll go into that more later, but that's the reason I had to move to Arizona right before my senior year started.
Because I was insecure, because I needed to be wanted/needed/loved/held, I gave up a lot of myself. I didn't spend as much time with girlfriends as I should have, although Delaney and I were together pretty frequently. The only parties I ever went to were for birthdays. I was always too concerned with getting my emotional needs met. That's a problem that still persists.
I dunno, I feel like this particular blog isn't important at all in the grand scheme of things. Really though my insecurities ruled my life, and this need to be with someone was a major part of my world.
Tonight, the failed relationships made sense.
"I was always too concerned with getting my emotional needs met. That's a problem that still persists."
ReplyDeleteI don't think getting your emotional needs met is a "problem." The only thing that seems problematic about it is if it's done in unhealthy ways. And I think you've identified many of those and are on the way to identifying more. (And of course this is important! It's all important. But then I, personally, think anything that makes you feel strongly is important. Your mileage may vary, of course.)
[I sometimes wonder how things would have been different if I'd been female in high school/college. I didn't date anyone until I was 18, and it wasn't until I was 23 that I had vaginal intercourse. I was, of course, miserable that I wasn't in a relationship (and for other reasons), but since males generally get pushed into the role of initiators and I had no confident/drive of my own that naturally didn't work well. Once I found a good relationship, it became clear that I needed my partner to love me because I was incapable of loving myself. I've improved, but that desperation and massive need are still there because my self-hate and self-denial are still there too.]
I guess a few questions I'd ask:
-What is a "failed" relationship?
-What are some common traits, if any, of the men you've tended to date/gravitate towards? And if there are no common traits, what do you think that means?
-How have your children affected your need to be loved? Have they eased the need for romantic relationships? Or, if not, what quality of a romantic relationship do you feel you need that the love of your children can't provide? (That might sound like your children should be good enough, but that's not my intent at all. I'm just trying to ascertain what type/quality of love you need)
-It sounds like you didn't wait much between relationships. Have you found that you've changed that in your adulthood? Why do you think you have?
I completely understand your "desperation and massive need"-I'm right there with you. Always have been. I don't know how to fill that, but I'm glad to hear that you're improving. Because honestly, Juliet darling, you are a good, beautiful person. I know self-hate is incredibly difficult to overcome/reverse. I mean hell, I'm working on it myself. If there is anyone that deserves to get past it and on to a fantabulous existence full of love and happiness, it's you. Granted, I'm not fully convinced that such a world exists. There are always ups and downs. But my wish for you would be that you find peace-with yourself and your world. And remember that there are those of us that love you for exactly who you are!!!
ReplyDeleteI personally find the roles that are cast by gender to be quite intimidating to everyone; it isn't fair that a male must initiate sexual/romantic contact. It isn't fair that a female is considered brazen if she does more than sit around waiting for her prince charming to save the day. It isn't fair that guys are generally encouraged to sleep around but if a girl sleeps with several people she's considered a slut. I'll eventually get to the point here where I discuss my feelings on this matter-particularly, being called a slut by a guy that claimed to have slept with 250 chicks in 3 years. Just....ugh. Back to that at a later date.
*"Failed relationships," to me, aren't relationships that ended. Most relationships end, people grow and change and it just happens. I suppose what I should have said is unhealthy relationships. There should be equal effort/interest/commitment from both parties or it just won't work well. I was excessively clingy (still am, pretty much), jealous, petty, distrustful....you name. I mostly referred to myself as a paranoid psycho.
*I've dated a variety of men, actually. You've got the immaculately groomed, self-centered pretty boy....the sensitive, emotionally supportive fella....the even more self-centered, manic-depressive guy that thinks the world revolves around his sphincter...I am inexplicably drawn to "bad boys," to long and lean with unkempt hair-think Johnny Depp or Adam Levine here, tattooed and wild. They have a sensitive side to them revealed through some artistic outlet, but you know they'll never stay, never be faithful. Tight jeans and a strut and I'm done for.
I guess mainly most-but not all-have been selfish and uncaring cheaters.
I'm learning what exactly is involved with healthy relationships. Respect is necessary, as well as trust. I might get there one day.
*In regards to my children-there is no greater love, but it is completely different than a romantic-type love. When I'm with them I'm not thinking about needing to have someone by my side-I'm only concerned about enjoying every moment I have with them. My children love me regardless, but not as a "person." The love me as a mother, as their caretaker and playmate. And that's all I need from them. I do, however, need to be held and comforted and to feel pretty and safe. It's fantastic when my son says "Mommy you look pretty" or "I like your dress," but he *is* kinda biased. :P
Sooo...I'm sorry, that turned into a post in and of itself. But yeah...next time it takes that much space I promise I'll write another full-on post instead, hehe.