Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2016 16:30:58 GMT -5
[This is one of mine, from EP. Originally posted in September 2014.)
A couple of months ago, I was talking to a man, and I expressed doubt of my own attractiveness.
He said, "That's the refused girl talking."
Yes, I am a refused girl, because I'm in a relationship that's supposed to be a love and sex relationship with a serious boyfriend. But because he is my refuser, and for a number of other reasons, I feel like I don't have a boyfriend. Instead, I feel like I live with an elderly relative who's sick all the time. One of those old-fashioned relatives for whom you have to pretend you agree with the morals of the 1950s.
He has lost all interest in sex, so I'm supposed to pretend I have, too.
Too bad I suck at pretending.
But I feel like I'm supposed to. So the refused girl, the refused woman, isn't quite sure how to get needs met. She isn't sure what male pronouncements she should trust. "I love you"? When he says it, her refuser really needs to add, "the way a grandpa loves his granddaughter," because that's what his love feels like. Not a scrap of eroticism or romance about it.
The refused girl wonders if she'll ever again hear those words from a man who kisses her hungrily, as a prelude to nibbling, caressing, fondling, teasing...mutual explorations of every inch of skin...hands and mouth giving and receiving....mutual undressing...and the ultimate acts of love.
I'm also the neglected girl. I'm still the little girl whose parents were so worried about her brother that they didn't always see her needs. "Oh, Kat will be okay; it's Steve who's got the *real* problems." And the neglected girl learned not to ask for help or comfort; learned not to lay more burdens on her already stressed out parents. The neglected girl became the woman who is still wary of approaching others, afraid of making a move and being brushed off. The woman who wonders sometimes if she is *too* cautious - and missing out on possibilities. The woman who would love to send the first PM or IM or email or text or whatever....but who fears hearing, "Not now," or, "Not ever," or worse - no answer at all.
I'm also the independent girl. When the neglected girl was noticed at all, she was bossed around and spoken to brusquely by a father who was oppressed by demons of his own. The independent girl learned to keep out of his way, to avoid being spoken to harshly or given an unpleasant task to do. She learned that asking daddy for help was likely to result in unpleasantness.
So, she learned to be wary of assertive men. She became quite capable and competent as a result. But as a woman, she often became involved with men who were no help at all with problem solving. Her first husband bought a TV and home entertainment system in the 90s, then got it home, faltered and said, "Maybe you'd better hook this up." So, the independent girl hooked it up.
And her feminist friends would cheer; but something about that incident was painful for both of them. He already felt bad because she earned more money and tended to learn things more quickly. And she couldn't help wondering: what would happen if something came along that I couldn't handle? Could I relax, knowing he could handle it? (No.)
As cranky and irritable as her father was, she always felt secure in the knowledge that he could solve problems and take care of things. And so the independent girl learned the good thing about an assertive man: she could relax and let him take care of things.
But would an assertive man handle her feelings roughly? And did a man even exist who could be the man, in the living room and in the bedroom - without turning into a dictator?
She once had a romantic but manly boyfriend who delighted in the struggle with her feistiness. Now she wonders if that was the guy she should have married.
The refused girl wants to believe love can be erotic again someday.
The neglected girl wants to believe it's okay to ask for what she wants, and reach out to people.
The independent girl wants to believe a man can be strong and take charge without hurting her.
A couple of months ago, I was talking to a man, and I expressed doubt of my own attractiveness.
He said, "That's the refused girl talking."
Yes, I am a refused girl, because I'm in a relationship that's supposed to be a love and sex relationship with a serious boyfriend. But because he is my refuser, and for a number of other reasons, I feel like I don't have a boyfriend. Instead, I feel like I live with an elderly relative who's sick all the time. One of those old-fashioned relatives for whom you have to pretend you agree with the morals of the 1950s.
He has lost all interest in sex, so I'm supposed to pretend I have, too.
Too bad I suck at pretending.
But I feel like I'm supposed to. So the refused girl, the refused woman, isn't quite sure how to get needs met. She isn't sure what male pronouncements she should trust. "I love you"? When he says it, her refuser really needs to add, "the way a grandpa loves his granddaughter," because that's what his love feels like. Not a scrap of eroticism or romance about it.
The refused girl wonders if she'll ever again hear those words from a man who kisses her hungrily, as a prelude to nibbling, caressing, fondling, teasing...mutual explorations of every inch of skin...hands and mouth giving and receiving....mutual undressing...and the ultimate acts of love.
I'm also the neglected girl. I'm still the little girl whose parents were so worried about her brother that they didn't always see her needs. "Oh, Kat will be okay; it's Steve who's got the *real* problems." And the neglected girl learned not to ask for help or comfort; learned not to lay more burdens on her already stressed out parents. The neglected girl became the woman who is still wary of approaching others, afraid of making a move and being brushed off. The woman who wonders sometimes if she is *too* cautious - and missing out on possibilities. The woman who would love to send the first PM or IM or email or text or whatever....but who fears hearing, "Not now," or, "Not ever," or worse - no answer at all.
I'm also the independent girl. When the neglected girl was noticed at all, she was bossed around and spoken to brusquely by a father who was oppressed by demons of his own. The independent girl learned to keep out of his way, to avoid being spoken to harshly or given an unpleasant task to do. She learned that asking daddy for help was likely to result in unpleasantness.
So, she learned to be wary of assertive men. She became quite capable and competent as a result. But as a woman, she often became involved with men who were no help at all with problem solving. Her first husband bought a TV and home entertainment system in the 90s, then got it home, faltered and said, "Maybe you'd better hook this up." So, the independent girl hooked it up.
And her feminist friends would cheer; but something about that incident was painful for both of them. He already felt bad because she earned more money and tended to learn things more quickly. And she couldn't help wondering: what would happen if something came along that I couldn't handle? Could I relax, knowing he could handle it? (No.)
As cranky and irritable as her father was, she always felt secure in the knowledge that he could solve problems and take care of things. And so the independent girl learned the good thing about an assertive man: she could relax and let him take care of things.
But would an assertive man handle her feelings roughly? And did a man even exist who could be the man, in the living room and in the bedroom - without turning into a dictator?
She once had a romantic but manly boyfriend who delighted in the struggle with her feistiness. Now she wonders if that was the guy she should have married.
The refused girl wants to believe love can be erotic again someday.
The neglected girl wants to believe it's okay to ask for what she wants, and reach out to people.
The independent girl wants to believe a man can be strong and take charge without hurting her.
