I'm in my thirties and no closer to a successful relationship than I was in my early twenties. And forget teens; the only wonderful relationship I had back then was with a man who came out of the closet several years later. And all that time I thought he was just very respectful and didn't want to push me into something I wasn't ready for. In a way, it was a blessing in disguise that he didn't pressure me into sex. Too many kids are having sex these days, way too young. That's just my little opinion (because, you know, my opinions are so sparse).
While I reflect on my disastrous dating history I see that the majority of the men I have chosen to spend time with...attempt to become intimate with...have all had a few things in common. Aside from me, of course. But stripping away all of their own personal little nuances, the common theme seems to be selfishness. Maybe not so selfish but more or less oblivious.
Like the previous entry...the man who couldn't bring himself to go camping with me that it caused a car accident. What is so painfully difficult about setting aside a weekend for something that your partner would like to do?
My ex husband had a serious selfish streak in him. At one point he actually requested that I pick up a second job so I could support his car hobby. Needless to say, I put my foot down on that situation and he was the one who picked up a second job. The second job came complete with a willing mistress and eventually divorce.
But it really is all the little things. I'm a pretty tough cookie when it comes to taking care of myself. That doesn't exempt me from the needs and wants of nearly every human being on the planet. For instance, while ill, I like a little coddling -- some tea and footrubs, soup served up, etc. I recall one time when I was horribly sick with a cold or the flu, I had asked my then boyfriend to come by and bring me some soup and company. Several hours later, a text message comes in from him to let me know that soup was in a jar outside of my door; he didn't want to come in and catch the plague. He did include that he hopes I would feel better.
Soup in a jar on my doorstep. I cried.
It seems as though all the niceties...all the reasons for being in a relationship are elusive and escape my eager and often too desperate grasp. Christmas gifts with highly vulgar statements...car accidents to avoid a camping trip...soup on the doorstep....
There are stacks and stacks of records of this sort of thing throughout my dating history. While I seem to pick up these types, I'm not so concerned with the individual man with his individual needs. Hell, I'm plenty selfish! But what I'm concerned with is exactly what is it that attracts me to this particular type? I could go into it, it's all very Freudian. But what's the point?
I dated a guy back when I was a vegan. A hardcore vegan. I really enjoyed not eating any animal products and while the choices that other people make are certainly up to them, I also would like my choices to be respected.
John invited me over for dinner; I thought it was quite sweet! I arrived only to notice the smell of beef wafting through the air. He made us meatloaf. I cannot excuse this as anything other than a seriously jerk move as he knew I was a vegan.
I can't blame them all for treating me like that; after all, I'm the one who stuck around. I tolerated some of that nonsense. And why would anyone want to bother with caring about my needs when I wasn't caring about my needs? Rather, I was more concerned with making sure I wasn't making them uncomfortable.
A little while ago I was very sick with pneumonia and a nasty ear infection. I stayed home but asked John to swing by and make me some tea and whatnot. He refused as his socks were wet from earlier at work. He refused any night that week as it was this or that or the other. But this time, I did not tolerate it when I was told that I was being selfish for wanting tea and comfort. No, I was not going to listen to that.
Wet socks will never trump pneumonia.
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