Sunday, February 14, 2010
Has the person you yearn to get attention from on this Valentine's day disappointed you? Or perhaps you have an inkling that he or she will before sundown?
Yeah, been there long ago. Not a good feeling, and depending on the intensity of your feelings, expectations, or hope about your love object, it can be like a door being slammed shut on your love. Since your love represents the best of you, it's a sure sign that you have been rejected. Or lied to. Or played. Or whatevah.
If you're single, take it as an opportunity to walk away from the doorstep at the House of Pain, and find a new place to share the best of you.
If you're married, your marriage may need some work if this 'holiday' is one that both of you have previously valued.
Some people really don't. They see it as an opportunity for the stores to profit, or they aren't given to sentiment, or they simply outgrew the whole concept. Before you pick a fight, find out if this is the case.
Personally, I'd love a little attention today, but I'm not dating a soul. My ideal day today would be to have a boyfriend. He'd be a neat guy, would pick me up by noon. We'd catch a matinee, have a light lunch, and go visit a mutual friend afterwards for laughter and a drink.
This is a different script in my head than when I was younger. I always wanted flowers then, and very few times received them. Yep, sad for all the other times, but true.
There was something weirdly ungenerous about so many of the brothas in my generation back then. A lot of them bought into the myth that there were seven women for every man, and they acted accordingly. They created absolute misery among more women than I can count in the late '70s and '80s.
Now I only want flowers from my kids on Mother's Day. They rarely disappoint me. Crucify me for saying this, but one of my most amazing pot of flowers came from my son a few years ago. Lil' nigga stole them from the front of a grocery store just to make me happy. His sister snitched.
Hell, I didn't know whether to be happy or mad. Still don't.
Today, I think of all the twenty and thirty-something sistahs who have written sad or angry posts in their blogs this year about the crisis in male-female relationships, particularly among the college educated who can't find a committed relationship much less a husband. Many of them think this is something new. It ain't.
Shitty relationships ain't even a crisis, it's a condition, and the bastard child of being a second class citizen. These were common even before I started dating in mid-70s.
I think that when a group of people are grinded down and constantly stressed by the majority group, their self-image is at risk for becoming distorted. Watch this youtube video to see how it begins in early childhood with many kids.
Among my people, being perceived as tough is valued, maybe overvalued among men. It's the kind of tough that has little room for giving gifts as inexpensive as flowers and candy, or risking being played by a gold-digger since they've been played from the day they started grade school. It's the kind of tough that throws up walls without doors into their hearts, leaving no entrance for the real thing if and when it comes along.
And the women, most just want security from real love, and in absence of this, want the outwardly material signs to "prove" some man values them even when all the signs are there that he only values her physical attractiveness and her sex. As the youth fades, so do the number of interested men. Bank on it.
I've said it before, that the majority of my [black] friends, both male and female, from their mid-40s to early 60s, never married. And never will.
I think of the three men I liked the most (and loved as well) I could have married when I was in my 20s. I really didn't know jack about love back then. Thought I did, but I had to become a parent before I learned what love really is. The kind of love that is for better or worse, 'till death do us part, heavily involves sacrifice and going that extra mile even when you are weary.
One would have been a disaster. He did marry someone else eventually, and ended up divorce. We stayed in touch over the years, and in conversation, I saw glimpses of how he'd have been horribly incompatible with me. I was so glad I didn't.
The second one, I'm not sure. I'd try it again, but I broke his heart by leaving him because I felt suffocated. I was too young and briefly dated someone else.
This really crushed him, to the point where he'd die before giving me another chance. Geezus! Over 25 years ago and he could never let that go.
Then there's #3. Now spending a life with him would have been interesting. I abandoned ship on that one too. Again, too young.
And exactly when I was ready to settle down at about the age of 30, no more proposals. With few exceptions, I find this true of most black women. Can't speak for never-married women of other races, but I'll bet it's similar, and if not, that the gap is closing.
Often I think that people get old too soon, especially women in our culture. It's like, just when begin to develop real identity, maturity and wisdom, the kind that can sustain a relationship and be a good parent, we're not perceived as being desirable. Go to any party and watch 40 year old men leap over women their same approximate age to get to 25 year old women.
No, it's not fair, but evolution has no mercy.
I had an amazing conversation last night with my son and his girlfriend (yes, they're back together, poor things... lol), which illustrates this.
Her: "I know he has his problems, but I love him so much!"
Me: I love him too, but I can't stand him most of the time. He's a spider and you're a bug in his web. Hope you escape before it's too late.
Them: (they laugh, neither taking me seriously)
Her: He's wonderful. I want to have lots of his babies one day.
I don't why I said what I said next, but it just popped out.
Me: Could you love him if he had an accident or problem and couldn't have sex anymore?
Her: No! ... I mean... I mean, yes!
Him (laughing good-naturedly): Aww, she told the truth the first time!
Her: No! I don't know why I said that.
Me (lying): He saw the doctor this week. Xavier developed a strange case of measles and can't have kids.
The look in her eyes... panic. They searched mine for the truth, and he said nothing and watched her.
[As an afterthought, maybe I'm the spider...]
She hugged him protectively.
Her: No, you're messing with me! We'll have lots of kids one day!
I laughed; it was sincere. He laughed too, and then he talked about the family they hope to have one day.
For those of you who don't know, they just went through a thing where she thought she was pregnant; either that or lied to me to make excuses for his relapse into drinking and drugging from Thanksgiving through New Years, making my life an absolute hell and guaranteeing that he'll be on his own once all the groundwork has been laid.
Later in my bed, a few things crossed my mind. One is that I should keep my mouth shut. I'm really not into breaking up folks. All I can say in my defense is maybe my subconscious picked up something and tapped into it, resulting in a surprise response from her.
The other is that if she did think she was pregnant until recently, maybe hearing that he was sterile panicked her because it would have meant he wasn't the father. Poor Xavier if this is the case.
However, I don't think this was it, and instead see it as stronger evidence that the whole pregnancy thing was a lie to excuse his dreadful behavior during that period and get him out of the doghouse with me.
But the other piece - her clear, momentary panic over the possibility that he can only shoot blanks - now that's evolution at work.
Men are most sexually attracted to women of child-bearing age. This applies to gays too, whose brains may be hardwired differently, or be reacting to some unknown environmental alteration in utero, during childhood, or media/cultural influences that result in homosexuality. Too young is repulsive (for normal males), or past that age, is unappealing, and way past that age downright repulsive.
What I did last night was actually the second time I ran that experiment.
The first time was intentional. It was with a retarded teenage girl who suddenly become very promiscuous. I asked her if she'd be running around having sex with a bunch of guys if she found out she couldn't get pregnant.
She said no. She was very clear about this. It was a aha! moment.
Her mother then got her a birth control shot that last for three months, and that stopped the sexual acting out. This girl may have been retarded, but she was listening to the drumbeat of her instinct to bear fruit and multiply - as we all do, whether we're conscious of it or not.
This begs the question that has been asked throughout the ages: is love a byproduct of our hormones and a manifestation of our unconscious need to procreate, even among the fertile who doesn't want kids, or any more kids.
My answer is yes and no. We are animals, but unlike them, we are people, capable of laughter, rising above our baser instincts, and being lifetime companions.
But how does one live well with the absence of a companion? I'll give ya hint in a moment...
If the love object you most wish to spend Valentine's Day is no show, would you be as disappointed if you learned he'd been to the doctor's and learned he - or she - was sterile?
If so, whose the spider?
I wonder if my thoughts are too raw, unpleasant or odd, to share. I'm sure some of you will tell me... lol.
Those of you who are in love or have found love may be like those who've had a good job throughout this horrific economic nosedive, and don't really have a feel for what it's like to go without since you haven't had to go without. For the lovers, you are truly fortunate and I am truly happy for you.
For the rest of you, today may be the perfect day to relax, or throw yourself into a hobby, or rekindle a passion for something you loved doing years ago. Plenty of them out there.
Some I've enjoyed are sketching, painting, crocheting, coin or stamp collecting, photography, writing, grooming a new hairdo for my dog, playing chess with a friend, trying a new recipe with a relative, and so forth.
I've been around too long to get sad about not having someone to share Valentine's Day with, but I remember a time when I was much younger and it was hard. It took time and work to evolve.
I don't know why, but I have a feeling that this post will reach someone who is lonely and sad, and perhaps trapped in a web of deceit or self-deceit, or simply not having someone who makes the sparks fly, but who is a good person and worthy of love, especially self-love.
Posted by Kit (Keep It Trill) at 1:21 PM