Is there some kind of code people have to crack in order to discover the standards of normalcy? Perhaps some secret club you have to be initiated into if you want to feel like an accepted part of society? I watch people around me; some of them look happy, others serious or sad; families that sit in silence while they eat; couples that engage in the kind of conversation and body language I find myself grateful not to be a part of. Like the dude next to me in the tight tee shirt joking about how long the food is taking and how he’s determined to get a free meal. Then there’s the young family, with their toddler sitting next to them playing with a toy phone. Do other people look around and wonder if they’re doing it right? Am I the only person who thinks I should be happy every minute of the day?
How is it I still struggle with this? The worst is trying to understand the kind of relationship I actually want and the kind of relationship I actually have. Hunter has always been my best friend, but never really knew how to be a boyfriend. Flowers and romantic dinners have always gone by the wayside. In the end I suppose that’s all that matters, I mean, having someone to talk to and share your dreams with, someone who knows you and respects you for who you are. But I look at other relationships or even those bullshit ones in movies and on television, and I sometimes doubt us. I find myself wondering if I’m selling myself short by not demanding more than what we have or if I’ve watched way to many god dam romantic comedies. Perhaps it would help if I stopped talking to my little sister, who’s new boyfriend showers her with candy and flowers every chance he gets. I’m lucky if I can get Hunter to put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher half the time. The fact is I don’t think he knows how to treat a woman on that level, I’m not sure he ever had much of an example out of his own parents. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never met a kinder, more intelligent, more decent human being, but when it comes to chivalry, he’s missing something that always seems to come so naturally to other men. I obsess about how things are supposed to be with us and wonder if this constant wavering state of uncertainty isn’t as bad as I think it is, or if his lack of chivalry is a characteristic that’s completely overrated anyway. Would things had been different if I had just let Hunter come to me; to take his time and move at his own pace, instead of coming forward with my feelings the second I realized they were there? When I was living in Long Beach, one of Hunter’s, now ex-friends, told him I was boy crazy. I was so insulted back then, but now I suppose there was some truth to it. I was attached to the idea of the perfect relationship, being loved and valued, having someone in my life that I could call my best friend. But I suppose the biggest truth and greatest humiliation in what he said is the “boy” part. Hunter’s friend was spot on about that one; I have spent my life chasing after boys. I’m 30 years old and Hunter just turned 26. He was 24 when we started dating. I’m not going to fall into some wicked, depressed state of morbid reflection over the whole thing; I’m not a pedophile. But I do think I’ve spent my life trying to avoid men who reminded me of my dad. My father was not a bad man, but he definitely engaged in inappropriate behavior. I grew up watching him sexualize every woman around him, including me. He constantly was hitting on girls that were my age, sometimes younger. I was lucky if I could get a friend to spend the night at our house, he made everyone so uncomfortable, something about him just always seemed driven by sex. I remember feeling weary around and avoiding anyone that even appeared to have a man’s build. I always felt safer around thin, scrawny looking guys, like they would never put me in a position that would make me feel the need to escape. Hell, it took me 8 years of knowing my stepfather before I was finally comfortable enough to get in the car alone with him, and he’s a wonderful man.
It’s amazing how these little experiences shape who we are; how our idea of what’s normal hangs like a cloud over our daily comprehension, spreading like fog over our ability to make even the simplest of decisions. I talk in WE but I really don’t know anyone out there that struggles with these feelings, or maybe the normal ones are just smart enough to keep it to themselves. Not me, I publicize it to the world and wonder why it’s so hard to make friends.
Observing those around me, I notice how few people really feel the need to smile for the outside world and if the stage family I always philosophized about was really only my own. I always thought the people around me were so unhappy, but here I am grinning ear to ear for the sake of the rare few that might give a dam and inside I just feel completely unsure of myself.
My life is nothing but a compilation of shoulds layered one on top of the other; a slowly growing wall around my periphery, making it impossible for me to make objective, healthy decisions for myself. Questions like "what I want" and "what I need" are tainted with the many shoulds that leave me feeling hopeless and muddled . If the sun is shining I should be out, if it’s raining I should be watching an inspiring documentary on Einstein or Maya Angelou. If there’s lightning I should write poetry. If I’m broke I should make art. If I’m in a relationship I should make love. If I’m single I should be empowered. If I’m strong I should stay the fuck away from gluten, dairy, and sugar. If I’m rich I should take guitar lessons, build a website and spend my days people watching in Golden Gate Park. If I’m 30 I should be confident, not care what my mother thinks, be too productive to take naps and be everything that I wasn’t in my 20s. But I’m not. And the world continues to rotate on it’s axis, with or with out my idea of success. So in the end, none of it really matters, neither the desperate need for perfection or the fears that always seems to come with it. We’re all alone with our past and the knotted strings of dysfunction that interlace its materialized existence in our lives. As far as I’m concerned all the ‘shoulds’ of the world should really just be thrown into a pile with Hollywood, Hallmark, cosmopolitan magazine, every member of The Tea Party and perhaps the 85% of my brain that clearly doesn’t function properly and we should all just have a big old should-burning bonfire by the water.
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