The Experiment
The experiment is two-fold and based on nothing more than my theoretical musings while trying (and failing) to heal myself from unrequited love.
The first part is based on the idea that if we find a partner willing to actively support us during the healing process rather than waiting an undetermined period to first heal ourselves, it could potentially shorten the timeline required for healing and ultimately create a stronger, more secure relationship. Being my own worst enemy provides innumerous opportunities for a repeating cycle of erecting, climbing, and then leaping from the precipice of creating and reliving my downfall ad nauseum. I'm pretty good at playing Devil's Advocate to myself, but even I have limits when it comes to completely unfamiliar perspectives or tools. The thought behind the experiment was to team up with someone who could provide that perspective; that insight, to lessen the time spent suffering under the weight of my failure(s). Collaterally, that person could also distract me from myself while I intermittently process. If the partners ended up choosing to stay with one another at its conclusion, I feel the relationship would benefit by way of both being present for the entire healing process - watching that growth firsthand; seeing it in action, and providing the opportunity to witness their true character. Potentially, our partner would be able to trust where we are - having seen it unfold. Bonus points for finding a partner who also requires healing so we can provide them the same support they provide us - be one another's cheerleader while simultaneously offering them our unique perspective.
The second part is based on a question I've asked two therapists: "Which is more important, a partner who desires to share the tenants of intimacy as the underpinning of a relationship...or love?" Neither could answer. Pros and cons both to be sure. As I was in love with someone who did want those things as foundational to the relationship - just not with me - I needed a comparison. Someone with whom I was not in love, who was equally curious to discover if an entire relationship could be not only sustainable by practicing transparency, vulnerability, and reciprocity, but perhaps more importantly, fulfilling. Disclosing the parameters of the experiment required leading with both transparency and vulnerability. My strengths yes, but more importantly, my weaknesses; all the ways I was unable to overcome something as simple as being rejected, and how it manifested itself in my daily life to the point I was seeking out this experiment; begging for help in the most esoteric way possible to the point no one else would be able to hear the cry unless they too were attuned to living in the same world of playing with ideas as malleable objects. Not just for the exercise, but for real, practical application. Someone familiar with the process of trying them on for a time, gauging their effectiveness, then changing them out as applicable; someone as malleable as the ideas themselves.
When one is vulnerable at this level, it likely means far more than we may think when speaking of conversational, garden-variety vulnerability. In order for the experiment to actually work, one must bare themselves as fully and accurately as possible. This requires revealing our introspected weaknesses without filter; opening our very character to external examination with no defensiveness when illuminated and questioned. If this sounds easy, or fun, we're not operating at the required level for correction, because it absolutely isn't. But only at that level can we begin healing if doing so with a partner instead of alone. It is also during this phase when others around us may start to judge us, for we are truly operating out-of-character when so raw and exposed; disdain from those we love when we're at our most vulnerable. I think in a way, that in turn shows us who they truly are as well - what they value most - especially difficult when it isn't us. A vulnerable time indeed.
All of this is of course uncomfortable. Every part of it. The cry for help, the partnering up, the transparency, the vulnerability, and the coming clean about what motivates us, frightens us, arouses us, entertains us, terrifies us, builds us up, and tears us down. Admitting these things openly, without pretense, without guile, and without expectation can be exceedingly uncomfortable if we're not used to exposing ourselves in such a manner. Regardless, we must seek out and embrace these uncomfortable situations; the uncomfortable scenarios. Many will talk of vulnerability and avoiding, "difficult conversations" in the same breath. The two are synonymous and not mutually exclusive - one cannot be vulnerable without difficult conversations and one cannot have difficult conversations without being vulnerable. Not having hard conversations is suppression; it buries that which needs to be revealed in order to be healed. It is the very opposite of transparency. if we truly want catharsis - not just to say we do - this is the way. I've found I've done less healing so far, instead, uncovering more unprocessed grief. Is being this uncomfortable for this amount of time worth it? I have no idea. That's what the experiment is for. I'll have to get back to you on that part.
The experiment has allowed me to definitively answer the second part of the question, however. Between a desire to share the tenets of intimacy as the underpinning of a relationship or love, I would choose love each and every time, even with its uncertainty, challenges, misgivings, and fear. Each and every time, without fail given the choice. I understand this now, and it has been cataloged and adopted. It was messy getting an answer of this magnitude, but also wholly refreshing. It is a wonderful feeling having life's questions answered so utterly and completely that you can unwaveringly not only trust it, but act on it with confidence. When my Once Upon a Time future never-to-be lover brought potential relationship roadblocks to me I would often reply, "I'm not worried about that," and while neither of us may have fully understood the how, I knew myself well enough to trust those words; that it was truly a non-issue, details be damned. I mention it because I had a similar crisis of faith within the experiment. As I was scenario running, I saw the outcome of being in an LTR without that emotional connection - it started with frustration, and ended in resentment, (old patterns). While the scenario didn't consume me, I needed a mechanism in place to trigger a failsafe before I ever got to that point. I have been hurt before, betrayed before, and felt less than before, and am always looking ahead to prevent potential traps in thinking. Focusing too much on this type of thinking in which the problem doesn't actually exist has the potential to create it, which is why being present is so important - to enjoy the now, and what is, rather than allowing worry to destroy both the present and the future - yet this is where I've spent a majority of my life when things don't go according to plan. I simply tweak the next plan.
What happened next was indicative of not only my own thinking, but the power behind trust - others sure, but most importantly, myself. I brought this potentially devastating news to my experiment partner, "If an emotional connection is never formed, it will end in resentment. As I'd like to avoid resentment, how will we know when to pull the plug so we don't find ourselves in that situation?" She thought about it momentarily, smiled, and replied, "I'm not worried about that."
So here's where colloquial rubber hits the road. If I truly hold the expectation that other people believe me when I say it (knowing myself as well as I do), then I must believe those who say it to me when they've proven to me that they know themselves. I have to trust the processes I have put in place, even when the process is being wielded by someone other than myself. If I cannot comfortably give up complete control and trust the process, then the process is flawed. I'm not saying handing over the reins to a process you've designed is easy. In point of fact, I'm trying to articulate the very opposite - that it is exceedingly uncomfortable. If you never operate outside your own comfort zone, how the fuck do you test what you believe to be true? Not only will it remain within the realm of the theoretical, it has the potential to plague you, betray you, and destroy you.
The partner you choose must be extraordinary for the experiment to work, but extraordinary in a very specific skillset: Self-awareness. They do not require mastery of these skill sets, simply an acknowledgment and a desire to receive and process new information. How quickly or slowly they do this is also unimportant compared to the willingness to do so, and succeed, far outweighing the artificial construct of time. It's about intent, which can rewrite the stars. Especially when you're forced to change course so severely after so long.
While the experiment may seem extreme; excessive even (and probably altogether so completely antithetical to conventional thinking as to border on the incomprehensible), I hope it illustrates a couple of things. One, the sheer depth in which I must surely have been to turn to something so...controversial. Two, proof positive that I will truly and fully embrace all manner of uncomfortable in order to grow; to heal; to improve myself despite the odds. And by that of course I mean not dying angry, frustrated, alone, and disappointed in my life because I was too afraid to take risks and bury my hands deeply into the sand of the infinite playground no matter the outcome.
