thinking
I'm not the best person to ask, what with me being single and all, but if you were to ask me, while I should keep my trap shut, I'd be thinking, sweetheart, being alone is better than being in an unsatisfactory relationship. We've got to love ourselves first and all that shit, you know?
Take me and the sperm donor, for instance. It was a totally unsatisfactory relationship, not his fault, per se, because in the same vein as the old 'if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it really fall?' thing, if I didn't agree to and accept the bullshit that was our relationship, would he really have been such a wad? Probably yes, but it would have been someone else's heartache. Point being totally nothing to do with what I just wrote, but point being regardless, we (or maybe it's just me?) choose relationships that work for how we feel about ourselves at the time. If we feel crappy about ourselves, we choose someone who will treat us in a crappy manner and who will validate our feelings of being unworthy of more. The time we spend using someone to perpetuate our myths about ourselves may be a lifetime, if we don't do what we need to do to grow forward, if indeed we need to, or the time may be just long enough for us to realise that, fuck this shit man, I get treated this way because I say it's acceptable to treat me this way.
In think too, that we perpetuate with our adult relationships the feelings we felt within our primary or first relationships. Another example being me and the sperm donor. In that relationship, I felt as insecure, unloved, abandoned and as unlovable as I did by my own mother. For whatever dumb reason (or not so dumb really, considering I hand picked someone to replicate my first and most formative relationship) I was recreating with him what I had grown up with, and while what I grew up with was sad and uncomfortable, it was also familiar, in that I knew how to handle being treated that way, even if my coping skills had once included starving, oy, and were largely destructive. Coping skills are coping skills, man, and we do what we do because we think they'll help us survive. ANYWAY, maybe I thought that if I could get my relationship with him to work, if I could get him to love me, then in some weird fangly way, it meant my mother loved me too. I think that's why we repeat and repeat and repeat bad relationships that all follow a common theme: because we feel like if we can fix it, it means we've somehow also retrospectively fixed the one that began it all in the first place, the one with mom or dad or whoever. Also, dig me. 'Mom'? Heh.
In other news, I've got a fuckload of video of Daniel on my phone , but do you think they make software for phones that involve ye olde mac? NO. Fuckers. So I have to keep this stupid phone for ever. I'm also taking a fuckload more inane and useless video of the D man doing all sorts of exciting things like, um, breathing, on this new camera of mine (the one that hasn't instantaneously made me look like an artsy farty photographer, and what the hell is up with that shit?) but after the ballsup with the image capture shemozzle, I'm scared. I do that, get all antsy about doing someone, I mean something (I wonder if that was freudian?) so I don't do it, preferring instead worrying about what would happen if I tried. I swear, my head is shaped just right for banging against a wall, and I think the universe planned it that way.
Take me and the sperm donor, for instance. It was a totally unsatisfactory relationship, not his fault, per se, because in the same vein as the old 'if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it really fall?' thing, if I didn't agree to and accept the bullshit that was our relationship, would he really have been such a wad? Probably yes, but it would have been someone else's heartache. Point being totally nothing to do with what I just wrote, but point being regardless, we (or maybe it's just me?) choose relationships that work for how we feel about ourselves at the time. If we feel crappy about ourselves, we choose someone who will treat us in a crappy manner and who will validate our feelings of being unworthy of more. The time we spend using someone to perpetuate our myths about ourselves may be a lifetime, if we don't do what we need to do to grow forward, if indeed we need to, or the time may be just long enough for us to realise that, fuck this shit man, I get treated this way because I say it's acceptable to treat me this way.
In think too, that we perpetuate with our adult relationships the feelings we felt within our primary or first relationships. Another example being me and the sperm donor. In that relationship, I felt as insecure, unloved, abandoned and as unlovable as I did by my own mother. For whatever dumb reason (or not so dumb really, considering I hand picked someone to replicate my first and most formative relationship) I was recreating with him what I had grown up with, and while what I grew up with was sad and uncomfortable, it was also familiar, in that I knew how to handle being treated that way, even if my coping skills had once included starving, oy, and were largely destructive. Coping skills are coping skills, man, and we do what we do because we think they'll help us survive. ANYWAY, maybe I thought that if I could get my relationship with him to work, if I could get him to love me, then in some weird fangly way, it meant my mother loved me too. I think that's why we repeat and repeat and repeat bad relationships that all follow a common theme: because we feel like if we can fix it, it means we've somehow also retrospectively fixed the one that began it all in the first place, the one with mom or dad or whoever. Also, dig me. 'Mom'? Heh.
In other news, I've got a fuckload of video of Daniel on my phone , but do you think they make software for phones that involve ye olde mac? NO. Fuckers. So I have to keep this stupid phone for ever. I'm also taking a fuckload more inane and useless video of the D man doing all sorts of exciting things like, um, breathing, on this new camera of mine (the one that hasn't instantaneously made me look like an artsy farty photographer, and what the hell is up with that shit?) but after the ballsup with the image capture shemozzle, I'm scared. I do that, get all antsy about doing someone, I mean something (I wonder if that was freudian?) so I don't do it, preferring instead worrying about what would happen if I tried. I swear, my head is shaped just right for banging against a wall, and I think the universe planned it that way.
posted by aibee at 15:39
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