Hello. The Unleashed One here. It's amazing how quickly three months can go. Best believe I didn't anticipate that so much time would pass before returning for another blog entry. I hope that everyone's 2022 has been going well.
I will be filling everyone in later on some of the events that have gone on with me in later entries. Today is going to be devoted to something different. Please note that I'm not speaking in terms of ALL in the realm of generalizations. I'm going to be speaking about what I've been through.
Today marks 25 years since the worst prank in history was played on me. Rather than recap the event, I want to reflect on some observations that are still prevalent, despite the passage of the years.
There is a narrative that is promoted that the best companionship (whether platonic or intimate) stems from those who are like myself. However, through my experiences, it is those like me (in terms of race) that have delivered the extent of trauma.
Note: This is not to say there have not been good experiences or people I have good connections with. However, it would be false not to recognize what has occurred with the majority of the connections.
One of the first observations is that although I was with my own, I didn't feel safe and protected by my own.
With the two relationships I was in (during my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college respectively), the myriad of events that transpired played a huge role in shaping my trepidation with openness and vulnerability.
One individual often weaponized what I shared whenever he felt disrespected or wanted the upper hand in a disagreement. The other person capitalized on this as a way to keep others from having friendships and connections with me while threatening to make my life miserable if I ever decided to leave him.
This history with my own ran contradictory to the positive comments touted about Black love. For me, there existed some level of struggle with these partnerships.
The struggle was real with communication. There was no middle ground when it came to conflict. Assumptions came too quickly where there was no openness to clarification. The silent treatment and/or clapback were delivered to me as punishment.
Rather than a proper resolution, an apology, or permanently changed behavior, being showered with gifts, love bombing, and make-up sex was supposed to heal everything.
Because I am set up as not only a sapiosexual but a demisexual as well, my partners did not understand why I didn't want to have sexual relations all the time. Why I couldn't just shut off the aftermath of arguments and let the physical acts of what was done to my body take me away. Even when I expressed that I didn't want to, that didn't stop one of them.
I have to be turned on mentally and emotionally before being fully present physically. Although I did attempt casual encounters when the absence of physical touch became too great, I was unfulfilled. Too much in my own head because I didn't feel connected to my body.
The struggle was real with reciprocity. I didn't receive as much as I gave.
And I gave a lot.
The second observation is that the more time I've spent reconnecting with myself, the desire to connect with another romantically has lessened.
It's not dead but it's become decrepit.
I admire my Spirit Sista for going back out there. She has been through a lot, even more than I have. I am supportive as much as I can be, but I have to refrain from letting my withdrawal drip on her experience.
There is an unmeasured level of contentment and glee in the ability to move unapologetically without compromise or restriction. Because of the full inability to be me and the constant misconstruing of my desire for interdependence being a threat to a romantic union, there is a resistance within me to explore dating. That instead of the meshing of lifestyles, I'll be placed in a position where there is a hostile takeover.
I don't want to be in a position to prove worth. Honestly, I believe this whole rhetoric of "proving worth" and "what do you bring to the table" is stupid. The fact that a woman has the ability to bring life into the world has worth and immeasurable value, yet because it isn't seen as a "job", it isn't given the same respect. I also don't buy into the whole 50-50 argument, no matter how many individuals have tried to sell me on it.
Dating is a process. It's an investment. It's a calculated risk. If a person isn't in a position to want to invest to get the return that he wants, then one shouldn't even get in the pool.
As far as a date goes, it's not just the end game of paying for a meal, drinks, or a movie. Or gas or travel invested. One can often forget there's a level of preparation on the flip side. Did that person get new clothes just for the outing? Spend extra money on nails, hair, makeup, etc? Some people spend a lot of money prior to the actual meeting up with the person, so is that investment less than the movie, dinner, and drinks themselves. This is just something to ponder on as I get off my soapbox.
Okay. Where was I? Yes, hesitation with dating.
Along with doing my healing, I've also transformed physically. Admittedly, this has modified the type of individual I now seek aesthetically. Not that I've become judgmental in that regard. It's just that I want the person to invest in their overall health, not just physically but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Also, in order for me to maintain my health and progress, it is better to have an individual who is supportive and more in alignment with where I am currently. Therefore, the people I would have decided to give a chance to before I may not give much of one to now.
Also, I desire a bit more equity as it pertains to finances. This isn't saying that an individual now has to be rich to catch my radar. The person just has to know how to manage money and be open to having realistic discussions about money. Having to be the financial advisor and heavyweight in the relationship wears someone down, especially if you are in a relationship where the person is unwilling to do what is necessary to balance the scale.
If and when I decide to return to the dating pool, I am going to seek the best counterpart. I don't think I owe my kind romantic allegiance. That's not to say if one doesn't fit my parameters that the person will be rejected. I'm going to return to my philosophy before the rhetoric - not seeing color.
It also begs the question if one should wait for complete healing before venturing. I'm not sure that completeness of healing exists when it comes to trauma. I have to practice self-awareness and mindfulness every day to prevent that train from starting up and leaving the station. Most days, I succeed. Sometimes, I stumble. But it's part of the process. Part of getting better with recognizing and coping. Part of being human.
I can only hope that there's another human being out there who won't desire perfection from me.
Who won't expect me to be the answer to every amount of damage that ails one.
That I won't be that person's everything but a part of that person's life that makes it better, gives it joy, gives it peace.
To recognize that wanting time alone or my individual activities don't subtract from the time, dedication, and love I can bring to a union.
To see my scars and instead of shaming them and covering them up, rub them, kiss them, accept them.
For me to have those moments of sadness and fragility without immediately telling me to put the armor back on.
To treat me with honor, respect, and value.
The value I place on the 25 years of having a second chance at life and not taking it for granted.