There are no outside causes, no ‘Save the Rhino’, no women’s group rituals.
There is parenting. Parenting is important. Parenting is the most important.
But it does come at a cost. I can no longer stomach the TV News. Politically, I’m unable to even watch a documentary on the Soviet Story, as I descend into a depression for days. I’m unable to show up emotionally for my children (necessary) and also show up politically for my world (desireable).
And as I look back on this dharma, I do notice a pattern.
Regardless of my politics and worldview, I live at the shallow end.
This life has been dominated by struggle. With and against money. With and against men. Unfortunately, the struggle with money is linked to the struggle with men.
Don’t get me wrong. I am a pretender to a higher purpose. But when I look back on the evidence, on what has changed my life and effected me, it has been my relationships with men. Goddess forbid. This is simply the truth.
I need to examine the lesson. Examine what it is I keep missing. I am fucked if I want to repeat these lessons next dharma. I’m fucked if I want to let my daughters repeat these lessons uneducated. I’m fucked if I’ll let my beautiful son grow into one of the men that I would have chosen for me.
Lets look at the characters in this melodrama. I classify it as a melodrama because I’m embarassed that love interests have over-ridden other issues in my life. This was never my intention. Growing up I always thought a partner would share isssues with me, not overtake other issues in their own right. The only issue that has been able to outweigh this, in truth, is parenting. I can see why women lose focus, whether they want to or not. The human instinct to bond is powerful.
1. The Sleaze aka Little Bogan Car-Thief broke my innocence and naivety
2. The Demon aka Nasty Fucking Bastard broke my head and my house
3. Old Yeller aka Idiot Husband broke my tolerance and compassion
4. Chicken Man: short term, high-impact. Ran away. narcissist and idiot
Also, myself: The Serial Monogomist
I haven’t included the school boys, as I really had no feelings for them (aside from experimentation), and a cast of boys of varying degrees of idiocy between husbands, as I experimented with open-mindedness and contempt.
I have to admit, there was also a man in the middle. The Welder. A good friend. Really lovely. But when I wanted to escalate the situation physically (as I’m quite fond of a bit of escalation) he wasn’t up for it. Don’t know why. But I did need a bit more immediate fulfilment. Because I’m me. And I like that.
The point is, none of these men were alike. Not remotely. But all were fatally flawed.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m far from perfect. But I do mean well. And I do work hard. And I am honest.
I have no illusions that life should be smooth sailing. No illusions that partnerships don’t have ups and downs. I have a ‘work hard/mean well’ ethic.
As I’ve aged and grown, I’ve determinedly only shared my life with those I saw as my equal. Those I had respect for. But I end up repeatedly and constantly let down. Is expecting a partner I can respect to much to ask for?
I think it is. Whether I like it or not.
And I won’t settle for less, as I have a fully-functioning life as a solo woman. I like to do what I like to do.
The dilemma for me is, is the fault with the selection, or with the selector?
If the selection is fatally flawed, then why? What is wrong? What’s the point, and why do women put up with this for more than five minutes?
If the selector is flawed, in what way? Are my standards too high? Have they been too low?
Why is this even important to me? I’d like to deny it, but the evidence shows otherwise. Might as well confess (though it does make me cringe).
Can I live the life I wan’t to live? Am I still vulnerable to the same old human desires, despite constant, repeated and painful disappointment?
What I’d really like to know… my women friends who live long term with partners, love them, and are happy… Are they for real?!? Big connotations if they are. Big connotations if they aren’t.
I feel the need to wrap my ramblings up in a final sentence. My usual practise is to write until solutions appear. Tonight I have discovered none.
Except to continue creating my life, enjoying the good bits, and refusing to take any brass pennies.