I once had a female friend who, truth be told, was pretty wretched in many different ways. She was one of these people who had a technicolor tattoo of a Tibetan flag on her arm while simultaneously employing the most treacherous social techniques the western world was famous for. She was as vindictive as they come, more manipulative than a bitchy soap opera villainess, and regularly employed the kind of dishonesty that ruined lives.
She also had red hair and blue eyes, so I didn’t let any of that shit bother me for a while.
When we did finally have our major falling out, her choice of weapon was to try to make me feel unwanted by the opposite sex, undesirable and pathetic. Now these kinds of techniques are usually somewhat effective–merely for the reason that most people have hidden insecurities about their looks from time to time.
However, my mind immediately drifted off to Walmart, where I had just been to buy my daughter a birthday present. Aisle after aisle one would see nothing but people paired off, in relationships, even, most likely, with active sex lives. Could it possibly be the case that I wasn’t even on the same playing field as these people. These people who were wearing pajamas at 2 o’clock in the afternoon?
Then it dawned on me that I was paying child support for three kids that I made with two different women–all of whom were planned. It wasn’t for my secure contributions, either. I was living in abject poverty when my first was born and I wasn’t doing that much better when my partner got pregnant with my second. I most certainly was not undesirable and unwanted.
What I was happened to be a living and feeling human being that, yes, brought the hurts of my childhood into my adult relationships. My parents were odd in some very detrimental ways. Typically, 14 or 15 days would go by where they were both so self-involved, it would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so tragic. Then once or twice a month, they’d look up, give their best high school Shakespeare version of “the appalled parent” and begin making decrees…”From now on…” “It’s time someone laid down some ground rules…”
We took this discipline with a lot of resentment because, although we couldn’t articulate it at the time, a lot of those things that would get forbidden were the very things we needed to survive in such a situation. There was never anything to fear, though. I don’t remember ever being grounded for “two weeks” and having it last any longer than a day and a half.
When I say that I am still haunted today by the kind of parenting that existed in fits and starts, I am not exaggerating even a little. If you desire your children to grow up with good teeth, you must be ceaselessly consistent until they establish concrete habits. If you want them to not be diagnosed with Crohn’s, you might have to serve fresh vegetables and not supply unlimited soda with every dinner. If you want them to get a decent education, you might mention something about the fact that working 3-11’s while attending 11 and 12th grade is not a good idea.
Rant over.
I’m afraid if I don’t make the larger point clear, here and now, you will never truly grasp where I am going with all of this. What I am doing my best to explore is the necessity of romantic relationships in middle age.
I have been separated from my girl’s mom for about 5 ½ years now, and in that time, I have been involved with numerous women in one way or another. I had a live in, there was a friend with benefits, there were sexual encounters and friends that grew into more. With the exception of the woman from Seattle that I flew out to retrieve during COVID and the Floyd riots, none of it was terribly memorable.
So when I was driving back from child visitation this evening, I came to the realization that I have no problem riding this to the end without forcing myself to be 50% of anything. So what if the Dalai Glommer of New Paltz thinks I am a loser or a failure or even less than a man. It took me the better part of my 52 years on this rock to not give a shit what people think and anything that hard won isn’t going anywhere too soon.
As far as sexual needs, they’re a lot easier to address than one might think.
I have a strong feeling that most people over 45 who have used dating sites will know exactly what I am talking about. How many times have we all shuttered collectively at the thought of introducing our children to whatever is lurking behind that five year old photo and those private messages that make no sense no matter how many times you read them?
Fuggetaboutit…
We have been force fed a lie all our lives: somewhere there is a soulmate, a better half, the yin to our yang and the missing piece to our hearts. I just don’t buy it anymore. And I don’t say it from a place of sour grapes. I say it because that particular lie has created more problems, more wasted days, and more sadness in my life than nearly anything else combined.
I’m good. Really.
.
What Sharon said. Yes to this Billy. And, I am not reading "sour grapes" here, reality yes. Honest. Thank you for continuing the share. Hearts to you.
I, too, have redheads as my Achilles heel. I prefer green eyes. But that's neither here nor there. Eye candy, man! Stay the course. Follow your heart - the heart of a poet! True love will triumph. Let's do lunch soon.