...in which I Ponder Imponderables
There is a delightfully trite cliché that insists that the Universe (or God, or Karma, or the Goddess, or whatever your Higher-Authority-of-Choice is) never throws at us more than we can handle, it's only a measure of our willingness to rise to the challenges that makes us grow or keeps us small in those choices.
It was not so long ago that my choices were leaving me feel bereft of relational connections and the kind of validation that comes with being sought out as desirable by people who weren’t already in the category of "those who are already known to want to spend time with me". It was less-long ago that I learned the name for this need is "hedonic pleasure", in that knowing there are friends and lovers who welcome me is sometimes insufficient to meet the need for feeling desired that only comes from either *new* interest, or from new pursuits of interest through existing channels. Played out within a poly context, taking myself off the roster of availability for months at a time has always been a tough thing to manage, because right when I need intimate validation the most (generally because of variously-sourced stresses and anxieties being triggered left, right, and centre) was when I was least available to anyone who might be both willing and interested to meet those needs. And because I've always made such noise about being the scheduling Problem Child, people back off and leave it to me to run up the flag when I have windows of opportunity... which I sometimes can't see or react to until the last minute, or later.
As such, a lot of my relationship partners took on a seemingly passive role in their interactions, and in time I realized that passivity isn't enough for me. It's nice to know that people are there and want to spend time with me, and I will get to them when I can as schedules and priorities and needs dictate... but there's something really powerfully-validating in being the one to receive the explicitly-articulated, "Hey, I'm interested in you, let's get together and see where this thing is going". (Worth clarifying: getting those emails from people I already know/admire/am attracted to is a *very* different thing from the pervasive "hay cutie u wanna get 2gether 4sex?" messages I get from random strangers through dating websites. The latter I ignore; the former, at least once I'm done screwing my head back on after the initial surprise of recognizing reciprocity, I am learning to jump at.)
It's not that I'm an old-fashioned girl believing a potential lover should do all the work of coming to me and getting my attention, although with the annual theatre projects eating my brain, I can see how it looks like I'm not tuned into anything else and sometimes grandiose gestures are required to get my attention. I've certainly gotten much better over the years in making my own overtures and finding safe balance between being interested and being over-invested in desired outcomes. Nor is it particularly a case of not feeling attractive enough to be worthy of the attention when it comes my way, my ongoing self-image battles notwithstanding. But at the heart of the matter, I have the perception that I'm willing to do a lot of work to make time and space on my calendar happen - whether those efforts are visible to others or not - and it would be nice if the people for whom I do that (or would want to do that) put in something I recognized as reciprocal effort.
Given how long it's taken Matthew and I to learn to speak each other's languages of value, I appreciate that if it's impossible to see inside my life to realize what it costs me to make dates happen on my calendar, the valuation of that time and space is going to be low for most people. And likewise, it's very difficult for me to accurately value the efforts other people make to be with me regardless of who initiates the event. I understand the conundrum my need to *perceive* that I am not just desired, but worthy of being sought after, can cause. If I can still miss the signals from the man I've been living with for eight years, odds are good it's going to be just that much easier with lovers and potential lovers I know less well. But there it is, in all its ignominious glory: It's a need. Being sought after, being pursued, is something I need to feel once in a while, otherwise the tendency for passivity leads to allowing the open channels to collapse in on themselves when higher priorities or more ardent interest arrives to fill the available space.
I don't think I'm overly proud of that fact, but in truth, relationships are work and it's the ones I perceive as being both high value AND being willing to work with me to share the expressions of that value in mutually-effective manners that I will work to maintain the longest. Relationships that take more effort for less return will eventually fade into obscurity as we simply stop working the channels (especially if it seems only one of us was working them to begin with). This is, if nothing else, a reminder to myself when embarking on new adventures with someone, to be very clear in making that need known, and negotiating some kind of sustainable set of expectations around them, even if that is a negotiated understanding of, "Sorry, I can't meet that need for you, I'm happy to be in the 'take what I can get when it's convenient and we don't have to work for it' bucket."
(At least the explicit knowing of that expectation makes it easier to determine right out of the starting gate how much of an effort and investment I'll *likely* make, which has proven to be a strong determinant of the relationship's survival chances overall.)
All this being said, life recently has been an embarrassment of riches, starting with things settling and, like spring, generating long-overdue connections at home. Surprising interest from entirely unexpected quarters has sought me twice in recent weeks, and someone I've been talking too (and met with a couple of times now) from PoF has finally initiated the, "I like you, let's do something about this" conversation. Ironically, this is all happening as I'm heads-down into the ramp up to going live with "Shadowlands", which means not just losing nights and days to rehearsals but also to my desire to get into build projects and music projects and all the other little details that need handling outside of actual rehearsals (including cleaning my garage to make it a functional workshop for the month of April). The universe is not without a sense of humour, one I can appreciate even when it has me tearing my hair out in several types of frustration. At least once pernicious biology clears the decks in the next day or so, I can get on with enjoying the fact that no-one at home is sick, and trust that the schedule will sort itself out in due time.
There is an additional interesting background mental conversation occurring in and around all of this that muses on the difference between beauty and desirability, both in the eyes of self and in the attempt to understand what's in the eyes of others. There's a whole 'nuther school of valuation going on there that is, in all truth, probably both fruitless and pointless, and firmly in the vein of "Geez, Karen, stop overthinking shit and just enjoy the ride regardless of *why* it's happening." Of course, it's one thing to enjoy the ride when it's a rollercoaster you got on knowingly and trusting to its safety certifications, and entirely another when it's a car gone out of control on slick roads and careening wildly down a hillside towards an inevitably painful and likely fatal conclusion... I just like to know what I'm getting into sometimes, and when I can't tell at the outset what kind of ride it's going to be, I get a little twitchy. I'm really rather attached to the idea of not getting hurt, even as I try to let go of the attachment to particular outcomes and just take things at face value in spite of the fears.
Those fears, lemme tell you... they are mighty. And they whisper most seductively in my ears and leave me second-guessing *everything*. And in the end, that's probably the biggest reason why the validation of being pursued now and then is so important to me. It's incontrovertible proof that the sibilant whispers of insecure weasels are just that: whispers, and nothing of substance. Sometimes we all need a little overt proof to help get off the launch pad, as it were.
These things I ponder, not necessarily to solve, but just to ponder.
It was not so long ago that my choices were leaving me feel bereft of relational connections and the kind of validation that comes with being sought out as desirable by people who weren’t already in the category of "those who are already known to want to spend time with me". It was less-long ago that I learned the name for this need is "hedonic pleasure", in that knowing there are friends and lovers who welcome me is sometimes insufficient to meet the need for feeling desired that only comes from either *new* interest, or from new pursuits of interest through existing channels. Played out within a poly context, taking myself off the roster of availability for months at a time has always been a tough thing to manage, because right when I need intimate validation the most (generally because of variously-sourced stresses and anxieties being triggered left, right, and centre) was when I was least available to anyone who might be both willing and interested to meet those needs. And because I've always made such noise about being the scheduling Problem Child, people back off and leave it to me to run up the flag when I have windows of opportunity... which I sometimes can't see or react to until the last minute, or later.
As such, a lot of my relationship partners took on a seemingly passive role in their interactions, and in time I realized that passivity isn't enough for me. It's nice to know that people are there and want to spend time with me, and I will get to them when I can as schedules and priorities and needs dictate... but there's something really powerfully-validating in being the one to receive the explicitly-articulated, "Hey, I'm interested in you, let's get together and see where this thing is going". (Worth clarifying: getting those emails from people I already know/admire/am attracted to is a *very* different thing from the pervasive "hay cutie u wanna get 2gether 4sex?" messages I get from random strangers through dating websites. The latter I ignore; the former, at least once I'm done screwing my head back on after the initial surprise of recognizing reciprocity, I am learning to jump at.)
It's not that I'm an old-fashioned girl believing a potential lover should do all the work of coming to me and getting my attention, although with the annual theatre projects eating my brain, I can see how it looks like I'm not tuned into anything else and sometimes grandiose gestures are required to get my attention. I've certainly gotten much better over the years in making my own overtures and finding safe balance between being interested and being over-invested in desired outcomes. Nor is it particularly a case of not feeling attractive enough to be worthy of the attention when it comes my way, my ongoing self-image battles notwithstanding. But at the heart of the matter, I have the perception that I'm willing to do a lot of work to make time and space on my calendar happen - whether those efforts are visible to others or not - and it would be nice if the people for whom I do that (or would want to do that) put in something I recognized as reciprocal effort.
Given how long it's taken Matthew and I to learn to speak each other's languages of value, I appreciate that if it's impossible to see inside my life to realize what it costs me to make dates happen on my calendar, the valuation of that time and space is going to be low for most people. And likewise, it's very difficult for me to accurately value the efforts other people make to be with me regardless of who initiates the event. I understand the conundrum my need to *perceive* that I am not just desired, but worthy of being sought after, can cause. If I can still miss the signals from the man I've been living with for eight years, odds are good it's going to be just that much easier with lovers and potential lovers I know less well. But there it is, in all its ignominious glory: It's a need. Being sought after, being pursued, is something I need to feel once in a while, otherwise the tendency for passivity leads to allowing the open channels to collapse in on themselves when higher priorities or more ardent interest arrives to fill the available space.
I don't think I'm overly proud of that fact, but in truth, relationships are work and it's the ones I perceive as being both high value AND being willing to work with me to share the expressions of that value in mutually-effective manners that I will work to maintain the longest. Relationships that take more effort for less return will eventually fade into obscurity as we simply stop working the channels (especially if it seems only one of us was working them to begin with). This is, if nothing else, a reminder to myself when embarking on new adventures with someone, to be very clear in making that need known, and negotiating some kind of sustainable set of expectations around them, even if that is a negotiated understanding of, "Sorry, I can't meet that need for you, I'm happy to be in the 'take what I can get when it's convenient and we don't have to work for it' bucket."
(At least the explicit knowing of that expectation makes it easier to determine right out of the starting gate how much of an effort and investment I'll *likely* make, which has proven to be a strong determinant of the relationship's survival chances overall.)
All this being said, life recently has been an embarrassment of riches, starting with things settling and, like spring, generating long-overdue connections at home. Surprising interest from entirely unexpected quarters has sought me twice in recent weeks, and someone I've been talking too (and met with a couple of times now) from PoF has finally initiated the, "I like you, let's do something about this" conversation. Ironically, this is all happening as I'm heads-down into the ramp up to going live with "Shadowlands", which means not just losing nights and days to rehearsals but also to my desire to get into build projects and music projects and all the other little details that need handling outside of actual rehearsals (including cleaning my garage to make it a functional workshop for the month of April). The universe is not without a sense of humour, one I can appreciate even when it has me tearing my hair out in several types of frustration. At least once pernicious biology clears the decks in the next day or so, I can get on with enjoying the fact that no-one at home is sick, and trust that the schedule will sort itself out in due time.
There is an additional interesting background mental conversation occurring in and around all of this that muses on the difference between beauty and desirability, both in the eyes of self and in the attempt to understand what's in the eyes of others. There's a whole 'nuther school of valuation going on there that is, in all truth, probably both fruitless and pointless, and firmly in the vein of "Geez, Karen, stop overthinking shit and just enjoy the ride regardless of *why* it's happening." Of course, it's one thing to enjoy the ride when it's a rollercoaster you got on knowingly and trusting to its safety certifications, and entirely another when it's a car gone out of control on slick roads and careening wildly down a hillside towards an inevitably painful and likely fatal conclusion... I just like to know what I'm getting into sometimes, and when I can't tell at the outset what kind of ride it's going to be, I get a little twitchy. I'm really rather attached to the idea of not getting hurt, even as I try to let go of the attachment to particular outcomes and just take things at face value in spite of the fears.
Those fears, lemme tell you... they are mighty. And they whisper most seductively in my ears and leave me second-guessing *everything*. And in the end, that's probably the biggest reason why the validation of being pursued now and then is so important to me. It's incontrovertible proof that the sibilant whispers of insecure weasels are just that: whispers, and nothing of substance. Sometimes we all need a little overt proof to help get off the launch pad, as it were.
These things I ponder, not necessarily to solve, but just to ponder.