LIGHTBULB MOMENTS

The post I wrote yesterday titled My Secret Admirer was about a disastrous 5-year relationship I had with a man named Sal. One might wonder how an intelligent woman would get hoodwinked into such a relationship. I've asked myself that question many times. I think the best answer I can provide is that I was at a low point in my life when Sal came on the scene. I had just given up drugs and there was a huge void in my life where drugs had been. That void was where all my self-destructive tendencies seemed to play out. I replaced drugs with work and Sal. They became my new addictions. Plus Sal was a master manipulator. He knew how to get into people's heads and how to work them. He was very clever at it.

I know we all have had relationships with people that were not meant to last for one reason or another. So why do we get into those relationships in the first place? Why don't we think things through from the beginning and sidestep the ones that are only going to end in pain? Are the relationships that don't last meant to be learning experiences to take with us into the ones that do last so we'll know what not to do? Is there never any foresight in relationships and only hindsight?

My situation with Sal grew dangerous and involved the two of us owning things jointly even though we never married. I did have some wisdom to never do that even though he asked me to marry him almost every day we were together. When it had gotten to the point of no return and I had gotten arrested (a story for another time), I had no choice, but to do the rational thing and that was to pack my car with what I could, put my children in it, drive away and not look back. Sometimes you just have to cut your losses when you can before you lose your life.

On the flip side I've also been the recipient of unrequited love, the situation started as a casual one, but  realistically how many of those things ever stay that way the more two people see each other especially if great sex is involved? Okay! I know men and women look at sex differently most of the time. I do know men can have sex as just a physical act and it can be just that and only that without feelings ever being involved and that's okay if that's what the initial agreement between the two people is, but if no such "talk" was had to begin with and then it's a whole entire ballgame! In my case, no "talk" was ever had to keep things light and casual. As the two of us spent more time together, I developed feelings for him and he didn't for me. He monopolized my time because he liked the sex. 

All the situation it did was kept me hanging onto to something I never had any chance of calling mine and ultimately it made me feel used. The nicer thing would have been for him to have been honest with me than for him to be a "nice guy" and to keep coming around because he needed someone because he was lonely and at a lowspot in his life. All it did was kept me from moving on and finding someone who would and could love me the way I wanted to be loved. I wasted a great deal on time and effort on him for nothing. He just wanted how I made him feel whenever we were in bed together and that's it. This woman needed much more than to be someone's booty call. From start to finish the relationship if you can call it that lasted over two years. Looking back, I can't believe I let it drag on that long. I guess I did him a favor by ending it because when I did within a year after that he was married.

I learned a lot from those experiences, but also those things robbed me of much that I'll never get back. While the Anti-Christ (Sal) may have stolen a piece of my soul, the thief who stole a piece of my heart may very well be the reason I found Sal or he found me. The sting of being used and feeling unworthy stays with me still to this day. My ego was badly damaged in ways I never thought it could or would. I give myself all the pep talks, but nothing I say seems to help. Yes, Sal may have been the Anti-Christ, but Johnny was the real snake in the grass.  

CAN MILDRED COME OUT TO PLAY?

I haven't been feeling well for the last few days and in one of my "spleeny" (it's a Maine word meaning whiny) rants to a friend of mine about an old boyfriend, I had a lightbulb moment. No, it was more like a holy shit moment.  All of a sudden all the stupid, wasted, self-destructive relationships I've had made sense. It didn't make me feel any better, but at least it made me see why I had taken the path I had taken. 

Being sexually abused as a child severely fractured me and distorted my image of what relationships should be like. I grew up pretty clueless. And since my abuse went unchecked and like many sexual abuse victims I kept it hid. I buried it and blamed myself for it happening. I never felt like I deserved to be loved. I truly felt unworthy of having anything good or wholesome in my life. It's sad for any child to grow up feeling like that. At the time I didn't have the foresight to see the direction that was going to take me and no one seemed to want to enlighten me. As I got older, I did drugs to numb me and then I became promiscuous, but strangely enough I never connected the dots. I always gravitated to men who wouldn't love me like I needed to be loved or deserved to be loved. I lived a self-fulfilling prophecy to prove my unworthiness. If any good guys paid me any attention, I passed them by like they had the plague. I just wasn't interested in what they were selling. I found nice guys boring and sedate. What I thought I needed was something that was going to set my hair on fire and make me teeter on the edge of insanity. What a waste of time and energy that was! I should have gone with the dude offering the house and the white picket fence instead!

I have spent a lifetime proving to myself that I'm not worth anything. I'm not worth loving. I'm not worth having a decent relationship with because I believed I'm not a decent human being. That really makes me sad that I have done that to myself, but what makes me sadder is that the people who love me...my family never have questioned why I have done this to myself. Or why no therapist has ever questioned it? Why hasn't anyone simply said STOP IT? Just stop it and try something different because your way isn't working? Now, I'm afraid I don't know how to start over and do things differently. I don't know how to feel differently or be different. I know I should. I know anyone who has put themselves in timeout for 17 years has a HUGE problem, but here I sit. It's safe! No one can hurt me. I'm isolated!

Recently, I started to do the online dating thing, but only to find out that 95% of the people on the site aren't even who they say they are. The other 5% may be the nicest people in the world, but for one reason or another just don't appeal to me. Let's face it! We all have preferences. So for now I put that great idea on hold! I'm not going to say my time has passed because I don't have a crystal ball and I can't see into the future.  But I do know I am a bonafide freak magnet and until I can figure out how to curb that and how to trust my own choices in what appeals to me then I need to stay in time out for a while longer. 

A LIFE WITHOUT WHITE PICKET FENCES

They say hindsight is 20/20, but I have to admit I often wonder who "they" are and why aren't "they" out actively trying to educate dumb asses like me.  "They" seem to be the ones that always jump in first to tell me "I told you so"  whenever I make a huge boo-boo even when "they" never really gave me any warnings in the first place. I can't say that my mother telling me things like "it's as easy to love a rich man as it is a poor man" are the lessons in love I needed as a young girl.  What I needed most was to be told I was beautiful, intelligent and capable to doing anything I wanted to do. 

At the ripe old age of 58 I had an epiphany the other day.  I've spent my whole live thinking I actually preferred 'bad boys" to the nice guys of the world.  I thought living dangerously and on the edge chasing after men with commitment issues and little respect or regard for any female was what got and kept my juices flowing.  Yes, I've questioned my preferences many times and have wondered why I've always equated nice guys as being boring.  My choices throughout life have deeply frustrated me because none of them have led to lasting happiness or a stable relationship.  So at 58, after being totally celibate and without any sort of relationship with a man for 9 years I've come to a rather startling conclusion.  I've always joking told people that sex causes brain damage.  Okay, maybe it wasn't totally a joke because it seems when two people throw sex into a relationship all clarity and common sense leaps out the window...or at least it does in my case.  Nine years ago I finally had enough of the rollercoaster ride and put myself in time out. 

When the light bulb finally turned on, it made the situation look entirely different to me.  I never really connected the dots so I could look at a complete picture.  Now, looking back I can say that my twisted view of what intimate relationships should be like and the kind of man in which I could enjoy lasting happiness with makes total sense to me.  I've spent my entire life chasing after anything and everything that would validate my powerful sense of not being worthy of love and happiness.  It's was always easy for me to believe I didn't deserve a good life and finding people willing and able to prove that point was always a very easy thing to do.  Many people might wonder why anyone would feel unworthy of love and happiness or why anyone would spend a lifetime doing anything that resembles a dog chasing its tail.  It's a complicated issue that dates back as far as I can remember.  For me, maybe it would have been more evident and easier to see if my "break" happened later in life.  For me, that destructive feeling was incorporated into my being at a very young age.  It's just the way it was.  It's just who I grew up being. It's not something I ever questioned because I grew up with the attitude "if the people who love me will hurt me then what's the rest of the world going to do to me?"  With that attitude it's easy to see why I always felt like I was continually swimming upstream against the current. 

I grew up with little self worth.  I held all my pain very close and rarely showed it to anyone.  When I did, it was just a glimpse.  I grew up with no expectations of the future or visions of that house with a white picket fence.  I grew up feeling that fleeting mind blowing sex was a good trade off for a stable life with someone who loved me.  I never knew anyone could have both, so I stuck with the bad boys who seemed more than happy to scratch my insatiable itch. I grew up numbing my pain with drugs and thinking promiscuity was okay. Many times I would say, 'it's a hard job and someone has to do it."  It's sad that I cared so little for myself, but what's sadder is that I believed no one else cared what happened to me either. The giving of myself to another person never held the same value to me as it did to others.  I didn't feel anything about me was really worth anyone's time or effort, so for me, intimacy was a twisted maze in which I became deliriously lost.  

I know now nice guys aren't boring.  Nice guys are just that and being nice isn't the kiss of death everyone always claimed it was.  The problem is that at 58 I'm way behind the curve and I don't know if I'm really interested in jumping back in the pond in search of the right frog to kiss.  I'm definitely not afraid of making mistakes because I've spent a lifetime being well-acquainted with doing just that.  I can't say exactly what the problem is...maybe just fear of the unknown or maybe it's as simple as I've run out of steam.  I can say this...I am open to the possibilities if one ever presents itself to me, but I doubt I'll ever actively go out looking for love.   Being alone isn't the worst thing in life and it's much easier to deal with than always being with the wrong person in a relationship filled with nothing, but fruitless drama.