Conversation With A Very Nice Man
Much to write about on a rainy floppy Sunday- has been such a busy few weeks that I have barely had time to post... but now I am sitting here with the heater on and some contemporary dance show on TV and toasties and tea and the housemates all out. Bliss!
Was talking to a very nice man last night at Dorothy's Dance Camp. Mentioned to him that since I have been single and actually stopped fretting about the fact a number of my friend's seem rather concerned about my love life, with heaps of concerned questions about who I am seeing or shagging and whether I am cruising anyone and comments on how odd it is for me to be out and about 'with my blinkers on' and not chasing anyone or even noticing when I am being chased most of the time. And whilst I appreciate their concern it often feels like those questions you get from relatives who are trying to work out if you have any intention of ever settling down. Said this to the very nice man and he suggested that sometimes out friends behaved even more conservatively than our families. I suspect he is right. There is from some quarters a strong pressure to be hooked up with someone, somehow, for some period of time, whether it be a quick shag in the toilets or a drunken liason in an alleyway or a wildly passionate affair that leaves you breathless for weeks and traumatised for months. Does't seem to matter what it is so long as it is something. It is expected that you want to want.
But somehow I don't want that much at the moment. Rolling around with Rollmop was very pleasant, and the other odd moments of snogging and snuggling which come my way from time to time have been rather nice too. Its more that I don't feel a need to seek it, don't feel much desire to flirt (with anything I could possibly catch anyway). When I go out dancing I want to DANCE for the sake of it, not as some sort of mating ritual where I must be constantly checking that my tits are arranged nicely and keeping an eye on who is watching me and making sure to appear vivacious and appealing at every moment just in case I'm in the line of vision of my next pair of damp knickers.
Sometimes I miss cuddles, massages and being held while I sleep. But I have friends I can call on for hugs or neckrubs, and sleepover buddies with whom to spoon and slumber. I have boys who will pin my arms behind my back on the dancefloor, and who will recieve my milk as if it were manna from heaven. I have what I need to get by on this level, and this gives me time to do the healing and the processing and the work and the art that I need to do to be happy and safe and satisfied.
The next thing that came up in converstaion with the very nice man was a question: 'what', he asked me, 'do you think will be different the next time you do become entangled with someone?'. This was harder to answer than I initially thought. Sure, I have changed a lot in the last few months, but how will this alter my relationships? Hmmm. The only thing I could come up with is that I no longer view my potential 'other half' quite so literally. I would not expect the person or persons to complete me. Compliment hopefully, but not complete. I am whole, self-contained, I am enough (some would say more than enough). Not that I don't need anyone, of course I do. I would be lost without my family and my mates. More that I don't need to merge with a significant other in order to have a full identity. Oh, and maybe I won't rely so much on this person/s for validation, to only know my own worth by the tickets they put on me.
So, to those concerned Guardians of The Someones and Somethings: Of course I still want the gigglypants romance at some stage in the future, the palpitations when you catch the scent of their aftershave or their dirty laundry, the nervous fumblings and the complete inability to think of anything but licking the hair on the back of their neck or the sound of their breath when they're about to..., the shared bottles of cheap bubbly or longnecks of Coopers and the joyous singing along to every silly lovesong you hear on the radio and the constant dampness of palms and pink bits. And when I see my mates with their partners, not their shags or their girlfriends but their life partner-types, I do get a pang of longing for someone to make plans and buy furniture with, to hold dinner parties and walk the dogs with. I want it all, and I want it a lot. I just don't want it right now.
Was talking to a very nice man last night at Dorothy's Dance Camp. Mentioned to him that since I have been single and actually stopped fretting about the fact a number of my friend's seem rather concerned about my love life, with heaps of concerned questions about who I am seeing or shagging and whether I am cruising anyone and comments on how odd it is for me to be out and about 'with my blinkers on' and not chasing anyone or even noticing when I am being chased most of the time. And whilst I appreciate their concern it often feels like those questions you get from relatives who are trying to work out if you have any intention of ever settling down. Said this to the very nice man and he suggested that sometimes out friends behaved even more conservatively than our families. I suspect he is right. There is from some quarters a strong pressure to be hooked up with someone, somehow, for some period of time, whether it be a quick shag in the toilets or a drunken liason in an alleyway or a wildly passionate affair that leaves you breathless for weeks and traumatised for months. Does't seem to matter what it is so long as it is something. It is expected that you want to want.
But somehow I don't want that much at the moment. Rolling around with Rollmop was very pleasant, and the other odd moments of snogging and snuggling which come my way from time to time have been rather nice too. Its more that I don't feel a need to seek it, don't feel much desire to flirt (with anything I could possibly catch anyway). When I go out dancing I want to DANCE for the sake of it, not as some sort of mating ritual where I must be constantly checking that my tits are arranged nicely and keeping an eye on who is watching me and making sure to appear vivacious and appealing at every moment just in case I'm in the line of vision of my next pair of damp knickers.
Sometimes I miss cuddles, massages and being held while I sleep. But I have friends I can call on for hugs or neckrubs, and sleepover buddies with whom to spoon and slumber. I have boys who will pin my arms behind my back on the dancefloor, and who will recieve my milk as if it were manna from heaven. I have what I need to get by on this level, and this gives me time to do the healing and the processing and the work and the art that I need to do to be happy and safe and satisfied.
The next thing that came up in converstaion with the very nice man was a question: 'what', he asked me, 'do you think will be different the next time you do become entangled with someone?'. This was harder to answer than I initially thought. Sure, I have changed a lot in the last few months, but how will this alter my relationships? Hmmm. The only thing I could come up with is that I no longer view my potential 'other half' quite so literally. I would not expect the person or persons to complete me. Compliment hopefully, but not complete. I am whole, self-contained, I am enough (some would say more than enough). Not that I don't need anyone, of course I do. I would be lost without my family and my mates. More that I don't need to merge with a significant other in order to have a full identity. Oh, and maybe I won't rely so much on this person/s for validation, to only know my own worth by the tickets they put on me.
So, to those concerned Guardians of The Someones and Somethings: Of course I still want the gigglypants romance at some stage in the future, the palpitations when you catch the scent of their aftershave or their dirty laundry, the nervous fumblings and the complete inability to think of anything but licking the hair on the back of their neck or the sound of their breath when they're about to..., the shared bottles of cheap bubbly or longnecks of Coopers and the joyous singing along to every silly lovesong you hear on the radio and the constant dampness of palms and pink bits. And when I see my mates with their partners, not their shags or their girlfriends but their life partner-types, I do get a pang of longing for someone to make plans and buy furniture with, to hold dinner parties and walk the dogs with. I want it all, and I want it a lot. I just don't want it right now.
posted by Zoo at 3:49 pm
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