antidotal evidence

I am just a girl. I am not the solution. I am a question that I am least equipped to answer.

I can only offer myself. Complete with pain and history and scarred skin and bruised knees and more tears than I knew I had.

I don’t know how. I don’t know what. I don’t know.

I want to be softness and light. I want to be simple. I want to be easy to love. I want to be what you need, I want to help you see the delight I find in you.

I see clearly only in hindsight. I must make mistakes before I can learn from them. I am callous and selfish and blind to the truths I don’t want to see. I am broken but I’m trying.

I come on too strong. My love is intense and I have too much to give and not enough foresight to know when to keep it in check.

I lose myself often. It’s easy to lose myself in you, to use you as a compass to give me the direction that I so sorely lack. I invest too much in hoping and wishing, in the fantasies that I try so desperately to manifest. You will like me more once we’re through.

I am sex and paralyzing self-doubt. I am pleasure and pain. Pleasure first, always, but the hurt is never far behind.

I am a destructive force. I am a catalyst. I might break you but you’ll end up stronger for the one you’re finally ready for. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready.

I am a challenge. I am difficult. I will ask a lot of you. I will ask you to be vulnerable. I will ask you to show up. I will ask for all of you. I want your pain and history and scarred skin and bruised knees and tears and unanswerable questions.

I don’t know myself as well as you think I do. I am confusion and contradictions and half-truths and best intentions. I am a process. I require patience. I take time.

I am broken but I’m trying.

Somewhere along the way I became a big believer in compromise. I’m not sure where it came from exactly, I just know that in my relationships I started to think that compromise was the key to making them work. Knowing when to back down. Swallowing my pride and putting my needs on the back burner for the sake of “us.” Always with an eye forward, of course, and a critical analysis of whether or not I was gaining in equal measure to what I was giving. But that doesn’t mean much when you realize you’re far more comfortable giving than taking. I have a keen sense of what I want and need but realized that somewhere in my core I don’t actually believe I deserve those things. Or maybe it’s just that I don’t believe that men exist who can meet those needs. I’ve certainly never met one. So I came to believe that I was the one who needed to change.

If there is one thing I’ve learned about relationships this year it’s that, in the beginning at least, they should be unequivocally wonderful. Magnificent. Dazzlingly fulfilling. You should be constantly drunk off the giddiness of being in the presence of someone incredible who can’t get enough of you too. The first few months should be easy.

Because yes, relationships are difficult. They require work. But that work isn’t necessary in the beginning. At the start, your job is to have so much fun that it gives you a basis to stand on when things get hard. And they will get hard: you will get into fights and hurt each other’s feelings and maybe sometimes be mean to the person you love. But when it comes down to confronting the hard stuff, who is more worth putting in work for; the one you’ve been timidly testing the waters with, who has always made you feel a little bit anxious and insecure because you never quite knew how they felt about you? Or the one who, when you think about them, makes you burst into an absurd grin because they inspire so much sheer joy?

I’ve spent so much time in the beginning of relationships trying to figure out whether the guy really liked me, whether he was invested in making things work, whether he was safe enough for me to trust. I rationalized it by saying things like “It just takes time to get to know someone” or “He says he wants to be in this so I need to learn to trust his word.” Well fuck that. I want my honeymoon phase and if it isn’t there then it means something’s wrong. It means you’re trying to make someone fit because they just happen to be around. Never date anyone who makes you question whether they care about you.

It’s funny how often I’ve looked back on a failed relationship that I had once been so  excited about and realized how deeply wrong for me the other person was. I’ve gotten into the habit of dating boys who are cool and creative at the expense of being kind, caring, and thoughtful. There’s something eternally appealing about the tortured artist types, the ones whose willingness to talk about their abusive fathers makes them seem so sensitive (when in truth it’s simply their justification for being unable or unwilling to treat you well), whose narcissism is easily passed off as self-awareness. I fall into the trap of wanting to be the girl who defies their misogynistic views of women, the girl whose unique combination of take-no-bullshit sass and fierce and loyal love will heal their wounds and allow them to become the loving and caring and empathetic partner I need. But it doesn’t quite work that way and I’m doing myself a disservice by wasting time with men who make me feel inadequate or unlovable.

Fall in love with the way someone makes you feel rather than who you think they are or what you want them to be.

Never be willing to compromise your happiness.

I’m a big believer in honesty. So much hurt and so many misunderstandings can be prevented by simply being open and up front about what you want. Parameters can change, of course, but if you never set those parameters to begin with it can be amazing how different people’s’ expectations can be. It’s hard to be on the same page when you don’t realize you’re reading different books.

So I always try to open up the boundaries conversation early. “I really enjoy spending time with you but I’m not really looking for anything serious so I want to take it slow.” Or maybe just a “Hey! What’s our policy on seeing other people?” It doesn’t have to be a big in-depth thing, sometimes a simple check-in is enough to suffice.

But it gets a little complicated when things are first starting out and you’re not really sure what you want. Like, say, you’ve been on a couple of dates with a guy who is clearly really into you and you’re interested in seeing where things go but you’ve been kind of planning a threesome with this really hot couple that you’re itching to jump into bed with. Is that any of his business? Does the fact that you slept with him give you an obligation to tell him the details of your current sex life?

I tend to err on the side of telling anybody you’re sleeping with about everybody you’re sleeping with. Not necessarily in detail but in this age of rampant STDs it seems only fair to let everyone know what they’re getting involved with. Then again, it’s not exactly something you can bring up before it happens. “Hey, I know we’re just sort of getting to know each other and all but I just wanted to give you the heads up that I’m probably going to sleep with 2 of my friends before we hang out again. Hope that’s cool with you!”

So in practice I usually end up following my own selfish desires and then owning up to them after the fact. Somehow this usually turns out okay and I’ve never had anyone get upset or disown me for it; if anything it just tends to be a catalyst for the boundaries conversation which can be hard to bring up out of context anyway.

But when you really don’t know someone and things are truly just starting out is it even worth it to bring it up? Is it your responsibility to be totally honest and open with them or is it problematic for them to assume that you’re not currently sleeping with anyone else? I suppose this is less complicated for people who don’t do casual sex but seeing as how that’s mostly what I’ve been interested in recently these are all questions I’ve been debating that I’m still not sure how to answer.

How much would you want to know about someone you’ve just started seeing?

I don’t do relationships. I’m more suited to single life and the flexibility of non-commitment because I thoroughly enjoy being able to do what I want whenever I want with whomever I want, so long as I’m honest and up-front with everyone involved. This makes me happiest.

I’ve really only ever been in two committed relationships and neither came up naturally. Instead I simply decided I wanted a boyfriend and then found guys who were up to the task. If I hadn’t been in the mindset of wanting a relationship I probably wouldn’t have dated either of them seriously but the timing just happened to work out.

What I’m beginning to realize is that this is not a good thing. When I broke up with my most recent ex he said to me “I’ve always felt like you didn’t particularly want to date me, you were just looking for a boyfriend and I happened to come along at the right time.” I wasn’t able to admit it at the time but he was absolutely right. And though I didn’t do it intentionally, it was patently unfair.

I’ve been sort of hankering for a relationship lately and the other day it struck me that the only time I have the desire to be committed to someone is when I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I become overwhelmed by choices so my solution is to attach my decision-making to another person. At least if I’m dating someone it limits my options!

So my first real boyfriend happened when I was deciding between colleges (he lived in Maryland so I decided I may as well just stick around here) and my last one happened after my move back home from NYC (I was torn between moving to Baltimore or packing up and heading to a new city. He was going to school in Baltimore and he was looking for a roommate, so decision made!). During the 2 years I lived in Brooklyn I was preoccupied with meeting someone (hence all of my ridiculous OkCupid stories) but I just never met anyone I liked enough or who was interested in commitment. If I had then I most likely would have stayed.

Since my last breakup in November I’ve been extremely happy being single. I see people casually, my sex life is so satisfying that I don’t even feel the need to write about it, and my confidence and self-esteem are at all time highs. I’m not constantly preoccupied with the need to meet someone or to think about the future relationship potential of everyone I meet. And I think this has a lot to do with how stable my life has been.

But once again I find myself at a point where my next life step is unclear. My job and lease are up at the end of July and I have to begin making some major decisions. I’ve fallen in love with Baltimore but jobs are somewhat hard to come by here. So I could broaden my search to other cities or pack up and teach English abroad for awhile or follow my dreams and do something that’s quite possibly financially stupid and would tie me to Baltimore for the long-term but would give me the possibility to create the sort of life I’ve always wanted. And it’s scary to face these kinds of decisions alone and head on, with no one else to blame if I fail spectacularly. But there’s something liberating about the notion as well, about being forced to reckon with what it is that I really want. I’m not sure what the answer is yet but I’m determined to find it for myself.

Love alone is not enough

He will not change for you

(You would lose interest in him if he did)

Never lose yourself in the haze of “us”

Trust must be earned

You cannot kiss away his pain

It is not your role to fix him

Reading between the lines is simply code for making up the stories you want to believe

Trust your gut. Always

The loneliness that comes with being alone is far more bearable than that of being with someone who leaves you feeling unfulfilled

Anonymous While casually dating a girl, I made it clear that I wanted us to be honest about our sexual exploits outside of our personal relationship. After we became "official," I learned (from other sources) that she had hooked up with some guy she met on the internet just a few days before this. I feel like I have been cheated, and I don't trust her anymore. I stopped talking to her a month ago, but still can't forget her, or forgive her. Am I being unfair to her? Am I being unfair to myself?

It sounds to me like you and your girlfriend might have had different views of what honesty is. I am of the opinion that though strategic omissions are not quite on the same level as blatant lies they are still dishonest and thus I cannot fully trust someone when I don’t think they’re telling me the whole truth. Some people disagree and believe that leaving out certain information is in their partner’s best interest, that they’re just trying to “protect” the other person, or that maybe it isn’t anyone else’s business, especially someone they’re just seeing casually. Those may be valid justifications to them but it’s simply not how I define honesty so I try to avoid dating people who think that way.

However, holding grudges is never productive. In my opinion there’s nothing more sucky than being really excited about someone and then realizing that you’re just fundamentally incompatible. I can empathize with feeling betrayed and I would say that your decision to stop talking to her is probably in your best interest. But that doesn’t mean you have to feel bitter against her. Easier said than done, of course, but try to recognize that her intent was likely not malicious and move on.

So you’re falling in love. Everything is great, your rose-tinted glasses are getting the most action they’ve seen in years, and cloud 9 has become your new digs. You spend every possible moment with your new beau and when you’re not together he’s the only thought occupying your mind and the only person lighting up your phone because why would you even want to bother talking to anyone else?

But amid all of the giddiness and great sex and Hallmark adventures you find yourself with a little nagging voice in the back of your head. “Maybe he isn’t all you’re building him up to be.”

But of course he is! He’s tall! And handsome! And dresses well! How could he not be the man who will eventually impregnate you with incredibly attractive babies? And you text, like, 1000 times a day so obviously you know everything there is to know about him.

So you carry on and ignore the doubts and things between you are good but then they begin to slow as relationships inevitably do. Closeness can lead to blindness and as you give yourself space you begin to really see him.

Turns out maybe that nagging little voice had been right all along.

This is not to say that all doubts are dealbreakers. But certain red flags are important to watch out for. These are the ones I wish I’d heeded.

*Don’t date someone who doesn’t like sex as much as you do

*Don’t date someone who would be perfect if only they would become more affectionate, or more emotionally sensitive, or less competitive, or…

*Don’t waste your time with anyone who doesn’t treat you like the best thing that’s ever happened to them

*Most of all, don’t expect change. A good relationship will inspire both partners to be their best selves but that requires each party to accept the other as they are. Know yourself, know what you need and what you’re willing to compromise, and approach love with eyes wide open.

It’s easy to write when things are simple. Bliss and happiness and love are so easy to convey.

It’s much harder to write when things get hard. Mustering up the motivation to confront the fact that relationships are messy and trying and difficult is not an easy feat. So I’ve been avoiding it for the past few weeks.

It’s so easy to lose yourself in another person. Especially when you feel so strongly about someone it can be hard not to become absorbed by them. Or maybe to absorb too much of them.

But how could that not be overwhelming? Empathy is a valuable trait but it’s easy to mix that up with getting lost in another person.

I’ve been lost in him for awhile now.

I’ve been trying hard to practice what I preach. Honest and open communication. Instead of clamming up or becoming passive aggressive when I feel vulnerable I try to name my feelings and tell him what’s actually going on. “I know that you’re unhappy right now and I hear you when you say that it’s not about us, but I feel hurt and insecure about our relationship because you haven’t said ‘I love you’ in over a week.” It’s much harder to get into an argument when you let your defenses down and just talk about what’s going on.

But what about when talking doesn’t work? Vulnerability is painful and hard and what are you supposed to do when you clearly state your needs and then nothing changes? What about when they use something you said in a moment of vulnerability as an attack against you? 

What I’m beginning to realize is that we can only change ourselves. I’ve been waiting for him to tell me what he needs. I’ve been waiting for him to get out of this funk and just become happy again so we can go back to being normal. Part of me has just been waiting for him to tell me that he wants to leave me for another girl.

But waiting implies that I have no control in the situation. It implies that I will just sit idly by while he dictates the terms of our relationship. And there is nothing that gets my wheels spinning in an unproductive and negative way more than feeling like I have no control in my life.

So after being unable to eat for over a week because of my anxiety and after dealing with days of being on the edge of a panic attack I decided to meet with a therapist yesterday. It was the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. After talking a bit about my  issues with Andrew he said, “I don’t know if your relationship will work out. No one can know that for sure. But what I do know is that if it doesn’t work out you will find yourself in another relationship. And you will realize that you’re better for the experiences you’re having now. All hard work is good work.”

For some reason that simple statement immediately brought me back to myself. I’d gotten so caught up in worrying about where my relationship was going that I lost sight of the fact that the point of being with someone is to learn and grow. And I am certainly learning and growing, sometimes in ways that make my heart swell and burst with love and sometimes in ways that are painful and difficult.  Relationships take work and it’s work that I’m willing to put in. Even when it’s hard, I know that I’m learning. I’m learning how to open up my heart. I’m learning to trust another person. I’m learning to trust myself.

It’s all part of the process.

For the first time in 4 years my facebook says that I’m in a relationship.

It’s kind of a funny story.

We met a few weeks ago. The first date went well. He mentioned that his family has a house in Virginia Beach. I said I’d been wanting to visit the ocean. 3 days later, despite having only met once, we drove 4.5 hours to the beach. We spent an entire week just laying in the sun, baking together, and watching movies and terrible reality tv (Storage Wars is the best show ever). Each day I found myself liking him more and more. He’s tall and handsome and smart and a classical musician (he plays double bass) and has impeccable style. We rarely ran out of things to talk about and when we did the silence was comfortable rather than awkward.

I’ve never spent so much time with someone I knew so little yet there wasn’t a single moment when it didn’t feel right. I never got annoyed with him or wanted to be alone. Being with him was easy and fun and strangely fulfilling. I liked him. I liked who he saw in me.

It didn’t hurt that the sex was amazing (he made me cum on his first try!). He didn’t have too much experience but he learned quickly and I can’t resist a man who makes me the priority. We took our time. I don’t know that I’ve ever been with anyone where we spent 4 hours on foreplay but it was transformative. And we talked; about what we liked and what we wanted and how we felt. Communication is such a turn-on.

So for once, rather than overcomplicating or overanalyzing or convincing myself of all the reasons why I need to guard my heart I’m just jumping into it. He likes me, I like him, and neither of us has any desire to see anyone else. So now he’s my boyfriend.

I probably wouldn’t have bothered to affix a label so quickly if it weren’t for the fact that come Sunday he’s leaving for North Carolina for 6 weeks to participate in an intensive music program. It’s not that I want to lock him down and ensure that he doesn’t sleep with anyone else (I’m not worried about that) but moreso that it will be easier for me to handle his absence if I’ve made a commitment.

Life is strange.