I’m not gonna lie.
When taking into account all the things I’ve been through regarding men, dating and relationships (and sometimes life in general), I sometimes (usually) feel tempted to think that I’ve “gone through a lot.”
Yet, when thinking about all the things that I could have gone through in life or with dating and relationships, I’d really have to say there are more haven’ts than haves.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about bitterness. As I stated in a previous post, I sometimes have the tendency to come across as very bitter. I am generally not very friendly toward new (or old) dudes, and I tend to close myself up completely to the thought of their friendship or companionship.
I have spent the past year healing.
That was the goal for 2010: Healing.
Specifically, no more pain, but the ultimate goal was to be healed of all the hurts I’ve carried around since my youth, adolescence, late adolescence and early adulthood (hehe see how I had to break up my young life into stages? That’s how you establish credibility).
Sometimes I feel cheated of the “being a girl” experience that I was supposed to have. I was a Daddy’s Girl until my parents broke their home. My uncle was in the military; my grandfather was in another state. My only brother is younger than me, and though I love my brother very much, as someone who has always desperately wanted a man to protect me from this world, this has sometimes left me feeling robbed of the protective older brother experience girls are supposed to have.
As a result, or maybe entirely independent, of this thought process, I’ve only craved male attention my entire life. My sense of self worth was always tied into the amount of male attention I received–how many boys like me? That’s the exact ratio of the importance of my existence: 02: 6,000,000,000 (assuming the world’s population is around 6 or 7 billion). And seeking that attention outright has led me into a few painful situations.
And for some reason, I internalized each of these negative encounters. I took them in; I took them personally. And along the way, I started to get really fuckin angry.
And I didn’t know how to process it and I didn’t know how to recognize it or express it or get over it, and so I just got into this habit of being in these extremely fucked up situations and having them fuel my anger, and my growing fear of men and intimacy and all other man-related things.
This weekend, I made cool with I Do Not Apologize Dude. Brief catchup: fucked up situation, bitterness. And yet, for some reason, a driving compulsion to be cool with this dude–to not let it make me hate him, and thereby symbolically, no longer hating anyone else who’s “done me wrong.”
I tend to think of it like this:
Life is resilient. There are few things a person can do to completely ruin his or hers. Change the direction? Yes. irreversibly, even? Oh yes–absolutely. But ruin it?
You’d be surprised how strong you are, at how much shit won’t kill you.
But there are now two things that I think will completely ruin a person’s life: drugs, and bitterness.
OK, maybe I’m exaggerating with the bitterness thing just a tad, but go with me here. Willing suspension of disbelief. What I’m ultimately getting at is that once a drug addiction or a bitterness in the heart take root, they have the power to consume you. They are never satisfied.
Misery is never satisfied. Misery becomes addictive because it is never satiated–you never reach a level of misery and decide, “Oh that’s enough–My misery is abated.”
No, misery feeds and multiplies off itself, the same way an addiction or bitterness do. It is the end product of either.
Now a drug addiction, I know, is much more physiological than bitterness. It is entirely possible to have a nice house, a good job, and a heart full of bile. But what do a nice house and good job mean when you are too angry to allow anyone close enough to you to enjoy it with you?
I keep trying to be cool with that dude, and I can’t guarantee it will work this time, but I keep trying to get over the past and be cool with him because I absolutely cannot allow myself to become bitter over the things of the past. I cannot cling to the fact that I was hurt in the past and use it to justify my present actions. I have to show myself that things are more complicated and beautiful than just that “men ain’t shit and they will all break my heart if I let them.”
Who wants to live like that?
- Hell Yeah, This Lady Would Love To Be In The World Of Warcraft Movie [WoW] (kotaku.com)
- The Misanthropologist: Can Men Say “The C-Word?” (thegloss.com)
- The New Normal &Ndash; Healing From a Dysfunctional Family (socyberty.com)