Search

love in general

Persephone: Mr. Darcy and T

persephone-greeting

Breaking up with someone felt a lot like firing someone from a job, except this time I was firing my boyfriend. It’s kind of sad that that’s how I describe it – that that’s the best analogy I could think of but it’s really just the nature of what I call my life. I have already fired 3 people from my work by the age of 20. At that time, I have never even kissed a guy, let alone break up with one. I have worked every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights since I was 16, do you honestly think I have a social life? So forgive me if my simile for breaking up sounds too… lady boss? I guess I don’t really feel bad about that. I like the reputation of being Alpha Female. It’s the reputation that I gained thanks to Mr. Darcy – because he was the alpha male and he valued my thoughts and made sure the world knew that I was his female counterpart. As I said before, he was  great for ego boost.

I had originally planned to write my relationship with T on here as the relationship progressed but one thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I was single again. So I’ll try to summarize it by only recounting the important and relevant parts. Most importantly, about what I have learned about myself and relationships as a whole.

I met T on September 4, 2016. I had originally hit him up on Tinder and he seemed approachable enough so we started talking. My first reaction to him was that he was a dork. Like major dork. But I didn’t want to judge someone based on that, so I responded to his every message and though the full attraction wasn’t there, I jumped on it and agreed on a date. I guess in retrospect, our entire relationship was like that.

I never felt ANY real attraction to him. Not once. In fact, I very often was annoyed of him. Dating him wasn’t my proudest moment for a lot of reasons. He simply wasn’t the type of man that I wanted my parents to meet, in other words, I wasn’t proud OF him. I also didn’t want to meet anyone in his life. Every time he invited me to a friend’s party I would decline by saying that I was busy with work (a safe excuse, worked like a charm every time). It sounds very bitchy of me but every time I talked to him, I felt like I was downgrading myself. The longer I stayed in that relationship, the more I left like a shitty person. I felt like I was using him, I was leading him on. I couldn’t deny it. I knew since week 2 that the best thing for me to do was break up with him.

But I just couldn’t do it. In my head, I didn’t want to hurt someone. I tried to convince myself that it was only because I have placed Mr. Darcy on a pedestal — like I built it for him, as tall as Mount Everest, and placed him at the very top, hot glued him in place so that no one could move him from the spot.

How was anyone going to amount to that? Of course it would be hard and it wouldn’t happen right away. So I told myself to keep T because eventually, little by little, I can tear down Mr. Darcy’s pedestal and I would finally be able to love someone else. T was that potential someone else. But it never happened.

T is probably one of the most understanding people I have ever met, but I think that was part of the problem. He “understood” everything. Every time I gave a bullshit excuse, he would say he understood. I could have literally asked him to jump off a bridge and he would have done it. And that was not at all attractive to me. In fact, I found myself constantly comparing him to Mr. Darcy and Mr. Darcy repeatedly won. Mount Everest had officially turned into Mount Olympus — he became Zeus and had become unaccessible to me. I got depressed. I cursed relationships, I cursed love, I spent Christmas day crying over a guy who was not my boyfriend. And I didn’t know how to move because Mount Everest was something I could climb but Mount Olympus was a place I can never travel. I was no longer able to stand beside Mr. Darcy because I had fallen that low(heh, maybe that’s why I call myself Persephone). And I knew it. And I panicked. And I shut down. My bulimia paid me a visit.

At this point, Mr. Darcy had already deleted me on every social media outlet, he was no longer talking to me, and quite obviously didn’t want anything to do with me. I honestly do not know why, but it’s what happened.

When I realized that I had stopped caring about myself, about my job, my future, and that I’ve been eating Wendy’s everyday for lunch and starving myself to death for dinner and starving myself even more for breakfast when the scale showed an extra pound that wasn’t there the day prior, I knew that T had to go ASAP. It wasn’t his fault, it was a fault of my own, of my unbelievably high standards, of my budding low self-esteem, and of Mount Olympus.

So I withdrew from him, saw him twice in December, and a few days before New Year, I avoided his kiss. I didn’t mean to but I think my body was so tired of pretending that it just did it automatically.

I dated T for over 3 months, but we never really talked because I really hated his voice and his jokes. So every time he talked, I’d just kiss him… made him shut up because unwanted sex was better than hearing him say something. I’m horrible, I know. I don’t deny it. I can’t. When I finally broke up with him, I felt so relieved and though I knew his heart broke, I felt great that I finally did something kind towards him.

I felt shitty for a few days, guilty even, but I never yearned for him. I learned that for me, relationships aren’t just about the romance. T was a romantic guy but I still couldn’t get butterflies while being with him. I realized that for me, friendship was the most important thing. I needed the playfulness and the comfort of a friendship before any real relationship could emerge. I also realized that I was dangerously in love with Mr. Darcy and that I shouldn’t jump into a new relationship until I’ve finally let him go. That should have been obvious but I’m dense as fuck.

persephone-sig

Persephone: My Darcy

persephone-greeting

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of  a good head, must be in want of a good man… or no man at all, some of us would add. I, myself, used to say it all the time until I realized that life gets stressful and being alone starts to feel, well, lonely.

I like to think of myself as an alpha female. Charming, border line cunning, workaholic, sweetheart to some, bitch to others. You either love me or hate me, no in-betweens, which is fine because I hate half-assed anything – including others’ opinions of me. I rather hear someone say that they hate me than have them say, “meh, she’s alright” because I always want to leave an impression.

I always know how I want to be perceived by people, and luckily, I also know how to be that person. But Mr. Darcy was a special case. He – with his alpha male aura, 3 businesses, law school, army experience, and tough exterior – caught me off guard. He was so much like me but nothing like me at all at the same time. I never did get it right with him and it was even worse when I started to fall in love.

Five years ago, I got off the bus in the downtown area close to my university. As I walked around, I found a newly opened cafe/pub close to the bus station. Deciding that I deserved a break, I went in. I quickly made my way to the counter, knowing my order of small coffee – black. I sat in a somewhat secluded area where I could sit and read my book in peace. I didn’t, and still don’t, mind being alone.

Apparently, my spot wasn’t as concealed as I had hoped as a friend from university saw me on his way out the door. We stroke up a conversation, and it wasn’t long until he found another friend of his and politely introduced us to each other. That’s how I met him.

Mr. Darcy. Charming but intimidating at the same time. Loud but not obnoxious. He had just the right amount of conceitedness that I want in a man, balanced with his genuine humanitarianism and philanthropist ideals. My initial thoughts were how we could build an empire. We could build our own first and then build one for each other, and eventually build another one together. After all, if I wanted to stand beside this man, I would have had to make sure that we’re walking in the same pace. My mind was on overdrive because everything about him was exactly what I wanted; that was – and still is –  very rare to come by. A part of me still believes that we’ll get married one day. That’s the part of me that still insists that fairytales exist. I seem to have a hard time letting that part go.

persephone-sig

Starshine: Happily Ended

starshine-greeting

First of all, sorry for the lack of posting on my part for the past two weeks, my original plan was to post at least once each and every week, so that I could kind of create a little outlet for myself. The main goal for my section was to create a space where I could recollect turning points in my relationships or lack there of, but I was kind of hoping for a normal amount of action, that way I could keep up and my segment on this site would line up properly and chronologically and I wouldn’t have to rush to keep things current. That was obviously not the case. A lot has changed in the 3 weeks since I wrote my first post, so this post is going to ask as a way of catching up, and putting some of that drama to rest so that I hopefully don’t have to think about it much after this.

The problem when you are writing from experience is that you have to be prepared to share the negative parts too, and as much as I hoped that I would be able to keep everything light, and mainly positive perspectives of how I grew from such experiences, I’m still currently unclear of how this experience helped me grow at all. As we all know I was seeing X, a man with a pandora’s box for a heart. It looked beautiful when it was closed, but once he grew attached to me and opened his heart it turned into one of the scariest experiences in my life so far. I have a past of abuse, but it has always been a slow build up, coming out of  nowhere, undetectable. But with X, I saw every single warning sign and red flag. I saw every single attempt of manipulation, some failed, some successful, but for some reason I felt stuck. We had only been seeing each other for a month and a half or so, and yet I still felt like I owed him the benefit of the doubt.

He did a really good job of making himself hate-able. When the break up itself happened, I had to do it over text because I was actually terrified to be near him. Over the span of that night he flip-flopped back and forth from begging for me to take him back, to insane rage, where he called me some of the meanest things I had ever been called, like a fat ugly bitch and worse, and even went as far as to say that if I did not deserve all the abuse I had endured in my past relationship, then I definitely did now. I feel like he might not have actually meant that as a threat, but when he said it, it instilled certain fear in me. I never wanted to see him again, but I was definitely still conflicted some how. Even now almost a month later I feel like if he wasn’t blocked on all platforms, and could message me I would maybe take him back, and that scares the ever-living shit out of me. Whats going on in my head that I would actually let myself go back to someone like that.

So as a form of self-preservation, I reached out to my loved ones. I leaned on Persephone and Kitten, I told my mom everything, and I told my best friends. I couldn’t tell M, he never knew that I was even seeing someone but I’m sure that if he found out he would have gotten himself into some trouble defending my honour, as he has always been so good at. I reached out for help as a way of solidifying how awful he was. I knew that if I told everyone what he had said or done, then if I ever did get to a point where I might go back to him, deep in my mind I knew that all of those people who helped me would keep me out of it. I told everyone as a way to saving myself from self sabotage. Multiple times before I blocked him, he had begged for forgiveness, saying we could forget about it all and start over. But the people that love me most would never forget that, even if I could bury it and pretend its fine.

Upon reaching out to my mom, I also asked her to contact my father to see if he could help find me a therapist. It was really eye-opening in a more ways than one:

1. Shows how far I have come from my abusive situation prior where I was forced into therapy.

2. Shows that despite my awful relationship with my father, he dropped everything and found me a counsellor, and paid for it.

3. Showed me that despite how much my mom dislikes my dad, she sacrificed her comfort to contact him for me.

4. Showed me just how much I actually needed a therapist.

The main thing that my first session of therapy has helped me with was lining up everything chronologically. My therapist is a kind irish woman who didn’t hesitate to tell me that some of the stuff I had been through was just plain “fucked”. She knew exactly what kind of direction I needed, she wasn’t preachy, she didn’t try to push medications on me. She was pretty real, and she gave me a lot to go home and think about. The homework she sent me away with was to send him a very business-style professional message saying that it would be the last contact  he would get from me, and to block him from every platform. She told me that I need to take a vacation but Halloween was such a busy time for the vintage clothing store that I work for so it would not have been possible in any way to leave. My mom wanted me to come back home with her, she lives in a little farm town about an hour away from the city I live in, and as much as I would have loved spending that time with her, I really just needed to keep myself busy here, so I politely declined. That however didn’t stop her from calling me to make sure I was safe and okay ever 3 hours, which may have been a bit much, but warmed my heart none-the-less.

At the beginning of this post I mentioned that I didn’t think that there was any kind of positive message to take away from this experience, and now that it is written down, the positive growth is pretty obvious. It its abundantly clear that the underlying message is that no matter how stuck you feel, or how trapped you might convince yourself that you are, you are not a tree. You can get up and move and change things. You don’t have to endure pain inflicted on you purely by other people, mental or physical, and no one should ever expect you to. I also take away this amazing feeling of having a support system for once in my life, a network of close people who love me and want to see me happy. People that drop everything and run to the scene of the crime. People that will overcome obstacles to help me.

Sometimes it takes a negative situation like this to show you that you are in fact surrounded by love, and that you are immensely cared for.

Current Mood: Relieved
Currently Watching: Scream Queens on Netflix
Currently Listening to: Pillow Fight Club -Nova

starshine-sig

Kitten: The Time I Fell For Drake

kitten-greeting

After almost a year of celibacy following some significant emotional turmoil, I met D, a seemingly lackadaisical burnout who barely caught my interest when I met him.

Within a few weeks, my interest in him went from passing to halted, and I lost all interest when I saw him at a club one night, on the mostly empty dancefloor with a girl whose face I barely registered. And for all I appeared blasé when I saw him later that night, I had to acknowledge this seething jealousy burning in the pit of my tummy. I wasn’t as disinterested as I kept insisting I was.

He proved to be a good friend. A great friend when I was in need. Some needs more surprising than others. And I found myself stumbling into a confusing mess of emotion, convincing myself I wasn’t in love. That aspect was easy enough, we both were very clear about our intentions. But actions tend to blur lines that words don’t, and when he proved to be a warmer, more caring, confidant than I ever gave him credit for, I found myself stumbling again. We do so feel the urge to connect to others on a more than basic level, that we oft ignore our previous resolutions.

However, my confused feelings notwithstanding, he continued to be his same, frustating and endearing in equal measure, self. Bad decisions are the bread and butter of our youth, and he wasn’t immune. And maybe I was just so eager to lose my feelings towards him that I was unforgiving of his, but I latched onto that flaw of his like a leech to a wound. I needed to. I needed to wean myself off of my affinity for him, and I was tired of how long “the right way” would have taken.

Here I am now, wistfully looking back at my time with D, knowing that his time and mine is past. At least…in that aspect. He and I continue to be friends, though for how long is not something I can or even want to foresee.

And my purrrsuit continues.

Kitty out!

kitten-sig

Kitten: I am a Spider Plant

kitten-greeting

I always wish I could start at the beginning, but I’m so used to diving into things by the seat of my pants that by the time my head catches up, we’re knee-deep and I didn’t leave a coherent trail.

A relevant starting point would be finding myself months-deep in the healthiest long distance relationship I’d been in since my first partner, I suppose. And healthiest in this context is relative; there was an unhealthy co-dependence on my partner being physically unreachable but emotionally reliable that it was enabling mental health issues that I didn’t want to acknowledge. I got into and out of other relationships without too much thought of the consequences; I reconciled myself to the mindset that as transient as I found myself in life, so too were my relationships. I was superficially hurt by each break up, realising later that I was barely emotionally invested in each person, and felt I got pretty much the same. We all just wanted to feel less lonely in the moment, and when someone better came along, we all collectively moved on, and so the story goes on.

Long distance relationships are as common to me as local ones, and despite the unspoken words, the silent judgement that often had me defensive and quick to rush to explain myself, I’ve had as much success in one as the other. It saddens me to see how easily LDRs have been dismissed, and often they’re only deemed “real” if we’ve managed the Herculean feat of meeting in person. But if there’s one thing I learned, it’s that the relationships we foster are as strong as we cultivate them to be.

Unfortunately for me, long distance or local, I never felt rooted to any place yet. Circumstances and goals rendered me uncertain of long-term aspirations such as a permanent address; my present goal was to simply survive until I got to a point I could start to build an actual life, romance et al.

And so here I am now, happily in an emotionally fulfilling long distance relationship but craving the physical intimacy and the convenience that distance deprives us of. Hopefully, I can find someone, or even a few someones, who are the right fit.

Leggo!
Kitty Out.

kitten-sig

Starshine: 4 months

starshine-greeting
A lot can change in 4 months; that’s apparent to me now. 4 months ago if you had of asked me where I thought I would be in October, I would have said living with my boyfriend of almost 3 years, working the same job, just coasting by. Little did I know that my life would change so much in just a matter of days.

He was my best friend, we had been close before we even moved in together, and then naturally we started having feelings for each other, and almost 3 years later we were making it work. We had our struggles, we lost our connection around the 2 year mark, and we just kind of started dwindling. It was a mutual thing for sure, we were both so unhappy, and one day I came home after a night of drinking and just told him I couldn’t do it anymore. The next morning we talked it over and agreed that it was just not working. We agreed that it was more than reasonable if we stayed in our three bedroom place and just kind of rearranged things. So far it’s been working, we’re both moving on, myself faster than him, but we’re both doing better than ever.

I feel like everyone on the outside looking in is only seeing an awful girl who broke up with a man for selfish reasons so that she could jump on dating apps right away for random hook ups. But that is not the case. No. I had been out of love for so long, and I had not been allowed to meet anyone new. I craved new connections and so I was not just jumping in looking for casual partners. I was looking for friends. I was looking for new experiences. I was looking for someone, anyone that would listen to me or pay me the slightest bit of attention.

I wanted…no I needed time to rediscover myself, to find the girl I used to be before all of the abuse and unhealthy past relationships. I want to be that girl again. So I told everyone my intentions. I told everyone that I talked to that I wasn’t looking for anything serious or long-term. But somehow X snuck his way into my life, and dubbed himself my boyfriend. I don’t have the heart to tell him that it will never work. He wants kids and I opt for never having them. He wants to be the breadwinner, I want to be a lady boss. He wants me to blow him all the time, and I just want to be on top. I could go on and on, but as of this very second, I know that we are never going to work. If not because of all the disconnections, or because of our tastes in entertainment being just too different, then most likely because my heart is simply in someone else’s corner. My heart belongs to M.

Current Mood: Indifferent
Currently Watching: Joy (On Netflix)
Currently Listening to: Tame Impala- Feels Like We Only Go Backwards

starshine-sig

Persephone: Prologue

persephone-greeting

I have made the conscious decision to start dating again. Easier said than done to be honest. Aside from the whole emotional adjustment stuff, I actually have to find someone who would be remotely interested in me, and given my shy personality, I probably have better luck at getting a fictional character as a boyfriend. Luckily, it’s 2016 and Tinder is an acceptable way to meet someone – at least in the Western civilization.

Having grown up in a more conservative environment, I can’t seem to shake off the stigma that comes along with online dating. Not to mention that I’m a naturally anxious person to begin with. What if I end up being catfished by some old, fat guy who claims to be a 24 year old, gym going, dog loving, CEO of a start up company that will one day be as big as Apple? I could end up disappointed, heart-broken, alone. I could even end up dead! I’ve watched enough Web of Lies episodes to know that there are serial killers out there who are using social media to lure their victims. I may be inexperienced but I am not naive.

“Oh come on, Persephone, it won’t be so bad.” My friend, N, says when I tell her my concerns. I wish to be more like N. She’s confident in her own skin and smart to boot. Not to mention she’s as beautiful as a goddess. I met N about a year ago, when my anxiety has finally gone berserk and I had decided to go on 7 Cups Of Tea before I ended up killing myself, literally. She was a Listener there but we quickly became friends when we realized that we were only an hour drive away from each other.

“Just meet during the day… in a public place,” she says, “Everything will be fine.”

Usually, in books and films, when someone says everything will be fine, everything will definitely NOT be fine. But I figure that since I am not a fictional character, maybe it will work out?

I’m a smart person but I’ve never claimed to have the most sound logic. I don’t know, I think I just desperately want a reason to go through with it and I do know some people who have used Tinder. Did they find their soulmates? No, but it helped them destress and feel better about themselves. Right now, that sounds like exactly what I need. Besides, it will be a good ego booster… I can’t be that undesirable to men, right?

So, I shove my conservative ideals in a dark corner of my brain and gather up 6 of my prettiest pictures. I make sure that one of them is a full body image. My body is my biggest insecurity and I want them to know what they’re getting into before we even match. I write something short for my description, assuming that people actually read this stuff. And before I know it, I’m swiping left and right, more so left than right but the few rights I do swipe earn me some matches.

I feel good about myself already… Somewhat.

persephone-sig

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑