proteanme

It all came together today. All these strands of things I’ve been thinking about and letting simmer in the back of my mind. It’s so gratifying. I have this story I’ve been telling myself about myself for what seems like forever. And the basic outline is that when it comes to intimate relationships, I’m somehow broken. I have different versions of this story. There’s numb me and checked out me and shut down me. And for years now I’ve been convinced that I just can’t do closeness or can’t sustain it or can’t nurture it along in a real way. And today I was vaguely thinking about what I wrote yesterday about contradictions and also thinking about something MTB said, and it dawned on me that this is such a bullshit story and I’m so sorry I’ve saddled myself with this crap. Because the thing is, numb me, shut down me, checked out me – that’s not some inherent flaw – that’s me coping with choices that don’t fit, that’s me trying to make untenable contradictions tenable, that’s me trying to convince myself that a situation where it doesn’t feel safe to open up and be vulnerable is because I don’t know how to do those things, as opposed to the situation being unsafe. Checked out me is me being in all the way in my head and dismissing my gut. Shut down me is me hitting my logic hard and ignoring my intuition. Not that these things have to be mutually exclusive, but good god, I know there’s something wrong when I go numb. And the big ass lie I’ve been telling myself is that something is wrong with me.

I’m not letting myself off the hook for my many flaws and short comings. I am so incredibly imperfect. For fucking sure. But of course I can open my heart to someone. Of course I can trust someone. Of course I can nurture and be nurtured and struggle along with people who will speak to all of that, who can hold me accountable to bring those qualities to the table. And of course, totally of course, I figure out when and who to do things with and and who and when not to. I know there’s no guarantee I won’t get fucking hurt in the process. Right?! Best case scenario, fucked up shit happens to someone at some point, but life is short and hopefully I can figure out ways to handle my hurts and losses. The thing is I am not inherently broken. Not at this point in my life. And I really don’t need this fucked up story any more.

It’s just so fucking funny that it’s taken me soooo long to figure this out. But maybe it’s turning 50 or the cusp of my 1/2 birthday. And/or looking at the possibilities that are around me now. And/or having friends who will hang out with me for 8 hours straight and let me whack the crap out of shit in their yard with a machete. And/or the magic tram and bike rides and sunsets and night skies and food someone made or ate.