Love stinks. At least, that was my motto until roughly a year ago. On and off. When I was a teenager before I got my first date, I desperately wanted it. It was the only thing on my mind and I cringed at how desperate I was. Unrequited crushes that never hid and other assorted embarrassments–I was just the worst. I had a crush on the same boy from first grade until sixth grade and only stopped because we went from elementary school to middle school, which had many more kids. I couldn’t keep tabs on him like I could in elementary school.
I was a freak from the start. A second-generation immigrant kid from a weird Asian country well before being Asian was exotic and cool. I was fat, awkward, and way too smart for my own good. I got picked on by the American kids for being too foreign. I got scolded by the Taiwanese moms for being too boyish. My home life was shitty and I lost myself in books because I hated the real world so much.
I got my first boyfriend when I was sixteen. Seventeen? Summer before 11th grade so sixteen. He was smart and cute and very kind-hearted. We went to different schools so only saw each other on the weekends. We dated for two years and while we both wanted to wait to have sex, we did almost everything but PIV in those two years. I enjoyed it at first, but it got to the point where it was all we did every time we went out (in his SUV, which, you know, romantic), which started to make me uncomfortable. I couldn’t find the words to tell him, however, and went along with his plans to go to California for college. He was going to Stanford and I had applied to UC…want to say Santa Cruz? Whichever is closest to Stanford. He said that if I didn’t go with him, we had to break up.
I had my eye on someone at work (mall. Different stores), anyway, so I broke up with him. I called St. Olaf to see if they still had a spot, they said I had half an hour to decide, so I did. That’s how I ended up going to St. Olaf, which was–an interesting place to go to college. That is not the point of this post, however, so I’m just going to walk on by that.
I had a serious relationship while I was at St. Olaf that seriously messed with my brain. Let’s face it, I had issues beforehand, but it didn’t help to have someone who didn’t know what he wanted himself. Or rather, it would have been more honest of him to say that he wanted sex and a companion, but not a monogamous romantic relationship. In fact, he asked me out after omitting the fact that he was in a romantic relationship that he demanded open up when his girlfriend went abroad for a semester. He wanted his cake and to eat it, too, and he seriously messed me up in the meantime.
I want to stress that I was in no shape to be in a relationship in the first place. I was looking for all the wrong things and for all the wrong reasons. I wanted someone to complete me and fill the hole that was inside me (innuendo semi-intended).Don’t get me wrong. I loved him with all my heart, but it was not a good kind of love. I was too clingy and too needy, and I didn’t know how NOT to be that.
About a dozen years ago, I entered a relationship that I thought would be for the rest of my life–it lasted four months. I was love-bombed from the start, emotionally abused, shamed, and intimidated, and knew I had to get out by the fourth month. As I was contemplating leaving, I was dumped. I was relieved, but also ashamed that I didn’t leave before that moment.
I swore off romance since then because I suuuuucked at it. I was attracted to all the wrong people because it was what I grew up with and had made such a strong imprint on me. I had been taught since a young age that my only worth was what I could give to other people (that I had no worth in and of myself). In the case of my mother, it’s a listening ear as she made me her confidante when I was eleven. That got much worse over the last visit and it broke any last remnant of trust I had in her.
Even though I am better at differentiating between myself and other people these days, I still have to fight the temptation to cater to other people. It doesn’t help that I’m an empath so I can instinctively feel what other people are feeling. I’m also highly-sensitive to all stimuli, which means I’m easily overwhelmed. It’s one reason I find it easier to be on my own than to be around other people. When I’m with other people, it’s like I have antennae that are always calibrated to the other people in the room.
This is especially true when it’s someone I’m romantically interested in/want to bone. Then it’s as if every nerve in my body is attuned to that person. Even if I can hide it, it’s still there. I can’t truly be myself when I’m around other people except with very few people. I know we all act differently around different people. That’s just part of life. But it’s harder for me because I can’t rest at all. I know it’s a me thing to a certain extent, but for many years, it wasn’t something I wanted to change.
Here’s the thing. I like being alone. I really like it. I like doing what I want when I want for however long I want. I don’t want to have to justify why I want to, say, eat cereal at three in the morning (always my go-to example. Cereal is VERY important). I don’t want to have to answer to anyone or say where I’m going. Let me be clear that I’m not saying that’s unreasonable in a relationship. It’s not at all! It’s just courtesy so that other person isn’t worried about you. To a certain extent, anyway. And a relationship should be about compromise. But, see, that’s why I’ve hesitated being in one for so long. Besides being awful at them, I’m bad at compromise. It’s because I have a hard time setting reasonable boundaries. I either let someone walk all over me or I put up walls so high, Spiderwoman couldn’t climb over them.
Since the pandemic started, however, I’ve gotten better at it. Why? I’m not sure. I think it’s partly because I got deep into the Taiji weapons. I accelerated my learning rate because why the hell not? It helped me cope with the pandemic and in some weird way, it made me see what was important and what wasn’t.
On that same tip, my recent medical trauma definitely did that to me. I still don’t think I want a monogamous, long-term romantic relationship, but I think I want to date? Maybe meaningfully? I realize it’s not great timing as we’re still in the middle of a pandemic (endemic), but that’s not going to go away any time soon (as I said, endemic). Like I mentioned, my medical trauma made me realize what was important–and one thing was human connection. And sex. Sex had been very important to me once upon a time and I’m getting that itch again. Time will tell if I’ll be able to scratch it.