In my last post, I talked about my issues with dating–and why I want to try it again. I also wrote about why the idea was daunting–or rather, why I really, really, really like my own company. And my cat, Shadow! He’s my best companion. I noted that one of my issues with dating is that as I noted, I’m happy on my own. If I’m to date someone or someones, they have to add something to my life. I am perfectly content to mutter around my house, doing my own thing.
Here’s the thing. I don’t like to compromise. At all. I like to do what I want to do, when I want to do it, however I want to fucking do it. This would probably surprise people who knows me because I’m very amenable in person. I will try to find the best in other people (except for obvious narcissists), and I’m good at knowing what other people feel. In fact, that’s why I hate compromising–because I’m really good at it and have been expected to do it for all of my life. No one is expected to compromise with me, which fucking sucks. This is the familial legacy. This is why I have to keep my parents at an arm’s length, more than that, actually.
In addition, my ability to feel other people’s emotions is another reason I don’t date much. It’s hard enough to feel strangers’ emotions, let alone the emotions of someone I love. One reason I like hanging with my brother is that he doesn’t have deep emotions. Not a dig–he’d tell you this himself. he’s honest about what’s on his mind and there’s no subtext there. We are about as different as two people can be, but we get along great despite our differences. Or maybe because of them. He’s my handyman/techie, and I’m his therapist/guide as to how emotions work.
If I do start dating again, I do not want to be the emotional conduit in the relationship. I have a hard time drawing a line between supporting someone and taking on their emotions. Not so much with friends, but with people I date. Again, it was what I’ve been told is my job since I was a little kid. It’s a hard habit to break, especially since my mother still expects it form me. She’ll apologize and say she shouldn’t do it, but then continue to do it. In fact, I have angrily told her not to say that she shouldn’t do it because it just makes it worse when she does it again. We both know she’s not going to stop, so it’s just rubbing salt in the wounds. One time, I told her to stop asking me if I got cold (because she knows I don’t. She was just doing it because my father was concerned). Instead of saying she wouldn’t ask me again (and believe me, I’d pointed it out to her more than once), she said that she didn’t know what to say to me that didn’t make me upset.
Which, I mean….how about not the thing that I have specifically stated is not something I want to talk about? She’s so fucking manipulative in that instead of acknowledging that she’s done something I’ve asked her not to do, she gets all ‘woe is me’ about it and somehow makes it my fault. Again. The other thing is that she has no interest in anything I’m interested in. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t expect other people to, say, give a shit about weapons. But if you don’t care about anything I care about, you can’t then whine to me that we’re not close. I try to talk to her about Taiji weapons and I get radio silence in return. I tried to show her some of the Sword Form a few weeks after coming home from the hospital, and she laughed and said it was cute.
Cute? Really? I’m not six playing with a toy sword. That’s when I vowed never to talk about Taiji weapons with her again. Also, the second day I was home from the hospital, she insisted I show my father a Taiji stretch to help with his back. It didn’t matter how much I protested, she pushed me to do it. His back pain, you see, was more important than me fucking coming back from dying. Twice.
All of this is baggage I bring into dating. My brother recently asked mem if the issues in our family was because of us being Taiwanese. I said, no. I mean, there are culture issues, yes, but even within the Taiwanese culture, our family is very dysfunctional. And it’s affected both my brother and me, though in different ways.
Dying twice and coming back to life has made me realize what is important and what isn’t. It has also made me realize that I cannot change that which is out of my control–including my parents. Both of my cultures like to emphasize ‘but faaaaaaamily’ to a toxic degree. Family is important, yes, but not to the destruction of self. And any family that requires you to destroy yourself is not looking out for your best interest. I don’t think that’s rocket science.
As I said, my medical trauma has burnt away much of the chaff in my life–showing me what is truly important. And if I start dating again, I’m going to bring that energy with me as I embark on this new adventure.
What do I look for in a partner(s)? Let’s do a quick list.
1. They must have their own life. I do not want to be the center of anyone’s existence.
2. They need to have a passion for something (outside of me).
3. They must care enough to listen to me talk about my passions, even if they are not passionate about them themselves.
4. No Republicans. I don’t care about gender, religion, economic status, age (within a certain range), sexual identity, or most other identifiers. But if they’re a Republican in this day and age, then they’re out.
5. They should be comfortable with some degree of nonmonogamy/polyamory. I don’t want a single long-term partner. I don’t know what I want past that, but that’s the basic. No shade to anyone who wants that, but it’s not for me. Not now.
6. They have to understand that I don’t give a shit any longer about normal conventions (if I ever really did). Dying twice has radically changed my perspective on life, and I cannot go back. I am not willing to participate in polite bullshit like hating on my body (which, as a female-perceived person, I have had much experience with) or being falsely modest. I am not going to be an arrogant jerk, either, because that’s not my style, but I am definitely going to start tooting my own horn.
Side Note: I have always loved a quote from Poirot after Hastings chastised him for bragging about himself (paraphrased), “If I saw someone else with this ability, I would praise them to high heavens. Why not do the same for myself?” Agreed. Like with the piece I wrote for PCGN. It’s damn good. It’s not perfect, by far, and there are several things I would have done differently if I were to write it again, but it’s still pretty damn good.
I’m done for now. I will tackle this again in another post.