Cut Down To Size
Passionate. Intense. Creative. Emotional. Energetic. Verbose. Romantic. Challenging. Honest. Eccentric. Queer. Kinky. Inquisitive. Fluid. Innappropriate. Intelligent. Trusting. Generous. Sexual. Imaginative.
I'm not the safe option. I ask tricky questions, don't pull punches, take promises at face value. I know that all of this scares people away.
And so I find myself forever censoring myself, trimming bits to become some sort of acceptable model that is less threatening to the status quo. Pretending, or attempting, or hoping, to somehow not to be so odd and big and unsettling. Some days I (almost) wish that I could just be that straight girl, you know, the pretty one who isn't going to call anyone's identity into question, who isn't going to run about being a lactating faggot and packing under her tutu, who will stand by her man as the perfect reassurance and confirmation of his masculinity. Who doesn't disrupt the equilibrium or make anyone think twice. I feel like such a mutant and hybrid monster, always wanting odd combinations of menu items instead of taking the set banquet:
I want the boy, but don't want to be the girl
I don't want to be a girl, but don't want to be a boy
I want the house together, but don't want to 'shack up'
I want my PhD, but don't want to be an academic
I want to have a baby, but don't want the nuclear family
I want a committed relationship, but don't want to be 'married'
And on it goes.
Is it really THAT odd though? I really believed that this time it might work. Thought what I had to offer was of value, and fitted in with what was wanted. But again, it seems I am more than is required... or maybe less?
I'm not the safe option. I ask tricky questions, don't pull punches, take promises at face value. I know that all of this scares people away.
And so I find myself forever censoring myself, trimming bits to become some sort of acceptable model that is less threatening to the status quo. Pretending, or attempting, or hoping, to somehow not to be so odd and big and unsettling. Some days I (almost) wish that I could just be that straight girl, you know, the pretty one who isn't going to call anyone's identity into question, who isn't going to run about being a lactating faggot and packing under her tutu, who will stand by her man as the perfect reassurance and confirmation of his masculinity. Who doesn't disrupt the equilibrium or make anyone think twice. I feel like such a mutant and hybrid monster, always wanting odd combinations of menu items instead of taking the set banquet:
I want the boy, but don't want to be the girl
I don't want to be a girl, but don't want to be a boy
I want the house together, but don't want to 'shack up'
I want my PhD, but don't want to be an academic
I want to have a baby, but don't want the nuclear family
I want a committed relationship, but don't want to be 'married'
And on it goes.
Is it really THAT odd though? I really believed that this time it might work. Thought what I had to offer was of value, and fitted in with what was wanted. But again, it seems I am more than is required... or maybe less?
posted by Zoo at 10:06 pm
3 Comments:
i read you all the time. i love this blog. i love it that you bleed and lactate all over the screen and that you are excessive with words and ideas, that your container is always leaking. drip drip drip seep seep. i like to read about Others who feel monstrous and gorgeous all at once. freakish beauty is thrilling and those who lack such contradiction in their lives are poorer for it. you want everything. there's a huge commitment in that. settling for the standard "monogamy... will you have lies with that?" model is selfish and stupid. I like your ideas around commitment. too often, as you so eloquently say (but I'm paraphrasing inelegantly...) it's all or nothing on offer. marriage or casual. there is no taking up the challenge that commitments can be solid, long term, committed *and* free... I want to cultivate and evolve and unwrap the love and the knowing of people over a lifetime, not bleed relationships dry and then throw them away. little packets of years. you are neither more nor less than is required. the offerings are just redundant. they *need* to be called into question...
Dear Anonymous,
Thankyou for giving me back some hope! Sometimes I am tempted to think that what I do and believe is so beyond the pale that nobody else could possibly see what I mean. But I think you get it, and a handful of Others get it, and that is a very reassuring thing...
It can be frustrating, and disheartening, and sometimes utterly traumatic, to be constantly told by partners that who I am and what I imagine and what I have to offer is just too much.
Not sure who you are, but reckon I owe you a coffee or a beer for making my afternoon so much brighter ;)
The problem with compromising, with self-censoring, with cutting off bits of your rounded psyche to fit in that square hole is that you end up losing respect for the small-minded person who would ask this of you and it becomes meaningless. Be your shiney, tricky, best and most beautiful self. Those who are worth the time and energy will value all of you and enjoy getting their teeth stuck in.
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