Mother May I?

I don't know about most of you out there, but I was raised in a conservative Christian family often struggling to make ends meet, the oldest of five siblings, and I was taught to think of others before myself. This is a fantastic philosophy, assuming that everyone around you works the same way. The problem is, not everyone holds the same viewpoint, especially in relationships, so while I'm putting my needs aside to care for someone else thinking that they are going to do the same for me, the reality is most times this doesn't happen. Sometimes relationships are 50/50% and sometimes they’re 90/10%. Your partner has a crisis so you suck it up and work through it because eventually you may have a crisis too and you just know that when that happens, they're going to be there for you just like you were there for them. Riiiiiiight. In my experience, what actually winds up happening is that I carry my partner through crisis after crisis and when it comes time for her to carry me, she's nowhere to be found. This is partly my fault because I continue to allow this to happen in my life, but I'm not really sure how to correct it. I feel like I have discussions with my partner about what our expectations are and I feel like she always says "Yes. I'm like you and I'll be there for you." probably with the best of intentions on her part, but when it comes down to the nitty gritty that isn't really what she means. I feel like I also communicate when my needs aren't being met and talk with her about needing more "Me time", affection, for her to fix the toilet like she said she would a month ago, etc., whatever it is that I'm starting to feel resentful about. But when I feel like I'm having the same conversation over and over again, and the same needs still aren't being met I just get more bitter. Sometimes I feel like her crisis is big enough that asking for what I need at that moment isn't something that would be fair, so I bite my tongue and try to wait for a better time. Sometimes there is no better time because one problem seems to roll into the next and the next until the whole relationship is just one long crisis. That's usually a good sign that it's time to get out.

I am learning that I can't rescue people and if they've gotten themselves into a mess I can't always bail them out of it, but how do you balance caring for a partner and caring for yourself without going too far to one side or the other? I know I feel guilty if my partner is struggling and I say I'm sorry. I can't help you right now because I have needs of my own I need to take care of. I feel selfish. I also know that if the relationship stays out of balance and I continue to allow my needs to go unmet while still meeting those of my partner I become angry and bitter and it starts to show in how I communicate with her. It becomes so draining that often I don't have anything left to give her after awhile. So how do I give myself permission to be "selfish" and take care of myself without feeling guilty about it? Perhaps even more difficult, how do I give up control and trust that someone else will do what they say and take care of something when past experiences have shown this to often have disastrous results? In a relationship, I can't seem to figure out the balance between my needs, and her needs, and our needs as a couple. And I don’t know how to determine that when someone says they will be there they’ll really follow through when the shit hits the fan.

© Sarah Ultis 2011

When the Fat Lady Sings

So Friday night I went out to karaoke. Singing is something I love to do and I'm pretty good at it. I get all dressed up girlie femmie froofy and meet a friend at my favorite bar to sing and have a drink and socialize. While I'm there I spot a girl who I've seen there before. Watching her with her friends she seems fun and maybe someone I'd like to meet. My therapist says I'm supposed to be mingling after all. *insert rolling of eyes here* I know the bar owner so I ask if this girl is single. The owner says yes, and she's very nice. Would you like me to introduce you? Absolutely! So she goes and get's "the girl" and brings her over. Right away this girl is looking like she wants to run right back to her table and hide. The owner introduces us and after a moment of uncomfortable small talk, I ask if I can buy her a drink. She hesitates but agrees. As we're walking toward the bar, she makes a disgusted face behind my back, which my friend observed and was kind enough to share with me after the conclusion of the events to follow.

There's a bit of a wait at the bar, but rather than chat with me "the girl" stands about five feet away not looking at me and at one point leaves completely to talk to someone else with her back to me. I order her drink and hand it to her. She proceeds to practically sprint back to her table. The bar owner goes over and motions to her that she should come sit with me. "The girl" makes another disgusted face and shakes her head, then turns her back to me, where she remains for the rest of the evening, going so far as to go outside when it's my turn to sing. For me, whose self-esteem is already running at an all time low, this was an evening destroyer. How am I supposed to be putting myself out there when it feels like looking for a piece of hay in a stack of needles, all sharp and painful and bloody?

Now, I'm a big girl and I'm perfectly aware of that fact, but I've got great blue eyes, a nice smile, pretty wavy auburn hair, and an incredible "rack" that many larger girls are blessed with. I know how to use these to my advantage and I was dressed to kill that night. I'm also smart, funny, giving, and passionate, but these are things you would never know without talking to me. What I don't understand is in a community of women who are constantly railing against "the man" and the stereotypes that are placed on us by magazines, movies, and other media, how is it possible to be so shallow that even a polite conversation is out of the question? I find that many butch women are looking for young, petite little femme girls, and for a femme identified lesbian, being overweight is tantamount to having the plague. This doesn't seem to work in reverse because many butch women easily find dates no matter their size. I'm sure this is partly just my perception, but I'm not the only person to have witnessed this phenomenon in lesbian culture. Size seems to be no barrier for butch women, while for femmes, appearance seems to be a real issue.

I can understand that if there's no attraction, no "chemistry", then a relationship is unlikely to work. I've been down that road. I also understand that chemistry won't last based on appearance alone. As we get to know someone the most beautiful woman can appear to be a complete hag when the spirit inside of them is selfish. The most homely person can appear to be the most amazing knock out because their heart is so full of love and light getting to know them makes it impossible to view them any other way. So we need to open the book, unwrap the package, take a look at what's inside there before we decide to discount someone because they're not the prettiest flower in the garden.

© Sarah Ultis 2011

Your Freudian Slip is Showing

Therapy. The word evokes images of bad horror movies where the ghosts of abused asylum inmates haunt the living with their screams. Thoughts of horrible 70's sofas with strange men in glasses asking "So how does that make you feel?" and scribbling in their little notebooks tumble through my head. Counseling has come a long way since the days of Sigmund Freud, but no matter how much we've learned about the inner workings of the human brain I'm still not sure that anyone completely understands what's going on in there. For instance, why does my heart feel like I'm having a heart attack when I experience the feeling of losing someone? The heart is just a muscular organ that pushes blood around my body. Theoretically it should have nothing to do with what's happening in my brain. Maybe it hurts because I think it's supposed to hurt. My brain can't process the emotional pain so it channels it where I think I should be feeling physical pain and I have the sensation that someone has their hand in my chest squeezing my little heart to a pulp. Do you think anyone has ever actually died of a broken heart?

 Being in this counseling thing, I find myself continually saying "My therapist says I should...." which usually leaves me deep in thought. Like this last week my therapist said I should put myself out there and have my friends set me up on dates. During the session I'm thinking "ok sure I'll try that..." then when I get home I'm having a panic attack about having to start over again and explain all the crap in my life, like fibromyalgia, hypothyroid, sleep apnea, plus a myriad of emotional issues that stem from childhood. I don't want to start over. I don't want to explain that crap. I sure as hell don't want to start over getting to know someone when 90% of the time people don't present themselves honestly anyway. When we're starting a new relationship, we always want to present ourselves in the best light, even if we're aware of our issues, which a lot of people aren't. No one wants to be talking with a potential partner and say "Yeah I'm pretty selfish in a relationship and I'm high maintenance because I'm insecure and will need you to constantly reassure me ok?" Or how about "Sure I'm out here dating, but really I'm still carrying a torch for my ex, so I'll be leaving you the second she renews her interest in me. You good with that?" Riiiiight. Next! So instead we talk about what we wish we were, or what we would like to want eventually but aren't quite ready for at the moment, which is very confusing when trying to determine if this person might be a potential partner.

 Through all this I have discovered one thing. I have baggage. Lots and lots of baggage. Some of it is old and beat up and held together with duct tape. ( "The handyman's secret weapon!"* ) Some of it is brand spanking new with all the bells and whistles and rolly wheely handle things. Some of it is in tiny little packages that fit inside other bags, that also fit inside other bags like those little Russian stacking dolls. Some of it is huge like the Grinch's sack he plans to dump on Mount Crumpit. There are bags with infinite amounts of mysterious objects in them, like Mary Poppin's carpet bag. All of it adds up to one giant pile of crap that I carry around in my head every day. I've got baggage about my parents. I've got baggage about past relationships. I've got baggage about my self worth. What I really need is someone with "baggage that goes with mine."*

© Sarah Ultis 2011

*From The Red Green Show. Hilarious! YouTube it today. This moment I say!


*From the musical "Rent"