A statement
If you're hungry enough, you'll swallow almost anything. You'll swallow your own questions and you'll swallow someone else's lies.
This is the thought I came to after a lot of wondering, recently, why I didn't ask more hard questions, why I took the word of someone who has proved to be untrustworthy. I'm not an innocent in this; I made stupid, foolish mistakes and I made assumptions I should not have made. Because of these, people I care about have been hurt. Hell, people I've barely met have been hurt. Through ignorance and unwarranted trust, I participated in actions that hurt other people, and it disgusts me. I can be an idiot and let myself get hurt, and live with that easily enough. I cannot forgive him for making me part of hurting someone else.
All I can say is that I'm sorry. I should have known, but I didn't. I didn't know because I was too willing to take what was offered without asking the hard questions or making the hard decisions. I'd been alone a long time and I assumed that the offers of intimacy were made in good faith. They were not. For what it's worth, he lied to people who did ask the tough questions, but that still doesn't excuse me taking the easy path.
And while it's true that I kept my weight on my back foot, that I kept a step back... that should not preclude an honest level of disclosure between parties. It does not justify deceit. It does not justify lying to me. It does not justify lying about me. It does not mean that anyone has the right to lie just because it makes things simpler for themselves, easier to get what they want from people (be it sex or attention or the illusion of love) without having to treat the other people like equal partners, full people with the right to informed decision and informed consent.
If you think I'm being cryptic, all I can say is that I'm trying not to do more harm here. I can't drag out other people's business without their permission or against their consent, but I can and will offer my own story as best I can. Out of respect for the other people, I want to give truth here.
I was involved with someone I thought was available, who I thought was giving me fair information. I didn't ask for commitment or obligation; I've said for some time that I intend to die old, alone, and eaten by the cats, and it would have taken more than this to make me re-evaluate that. Still, I was more involved than I've been in a very long time. It turns out that my involvement overlapped with that of several others, none of us knowing, all of us lied to. We were told very different stories about what was going on, and as far as we can tell, none of us were told the truth.
I've been told some lovely lies and I've been taken on some good dances around things that I should have known about. I've joked for a while that my involvement with this person felt a bit like the sort of magic that leads to a cold awakening on a foreign hillside. I've finally awoken, and the bright, beautiful, poetic fairy gold with which I was bought has turned to dry leaves in the light. Very little of it was true, and even that little bit has tarnished. I'm sorry. For what it's worth, there's almost nothing left of it I want to hold onto at this point.
Those of you who know what this is about may be thinking I'm speaking only out of anger. Make no mistake, I am angry. I don't like being managed or manipulated, I don't like being lied to or lied about. I don't like having been a party to cheating. I don't like being dismissed, fed half-truths to be kept biddable, or used. I am angry, and speaking out of anger, but don't make the mistake of dismissing what I'm saying because of that. I have the right to be angry in this. Anger is justified. It has not distorted my thinking; it has come instead after a lot of hard thinking on how responsible adults treat each other, and the sharp contrast between that and how I was treated, how people I care about were treated. It's worth being angry over.
Given my history I might be more oversensitive to lies of omission than most, but this is hardly an excuse to dismiss what I'm saying. Anyone I feel knows me enough that I'd be willing to share my body with them should know this and respect it. That I got involved with someone who did not is disheartening. There was a pattern of managed information meant to keep people willing and trusting, even when it was no longer warranted. Beyond even the lies of omission there were lies of commission as well, denials and flat-faced untruth.
For me it's been over for a while, a slow, lingering fading out as he took his attention elsewhere, contacting me only when someone else was mad at him, when it was a matter of damage control, when he wanted something else from me. I believed him even after hope was gone. It took me a while to learn how faint a blip I was on the radar screen.
I still would have been okay with it, kept a safer distance, shrugged about the way life works out, been as guarded as ever... except when I shared my story with a friend who was in pain and confusion, we both found out how much of what we'd been led to believe was lies and deception. How much we were strung along, how little truth we had. The more more we talked, the more lies were uncovered.
The results have not been pretty. A broken relationship, a few broken friendships, a lot of strained connections. All because someone had an easier time distorting his relationships than treating the women like full participants. It lasted until we started telling the truth. This is not the way adult relationships should work.
So in case you're wondering, it's not okay to lie. It's not okay to lie to the people you're sleeping with, it's not okay to lie about who you've slept with.
If your actions cause pain when brought to light, the proper response is to re-evaluate whether or not you should have done them. It isn't to attack the people who shared information that all parties had a right to have. The adult and responsible action is to try to correct the damage you've done, even if you somehow think your actions were justified. If you claim you did it out of some distorted, self-serving form of respect for their privacy, then you should also respect the validity of their response when you find you were wrong. You acknowledge your actions at minimum. You apologize where you were in fault. You make amends where you can.
This is not an unreasonable standard. It is how adults treat each other.
Lying to people who have told you that involvement with other people is fine as long as you're honest about it is still cheating.
Not giving your partners needful information is manipulation. It is not respect.
Lying about your level of involvement with people is disrespectful of both your past and present partners.
And if you can easily deny someone you've slept with, no matter the pretty lies you've told them, you don't respect them.
If you can't give your partners truth enough for them to make their own decisions in an informed manner, you care more about what you're getting from them than you do about them. That's not love or friendship or caring. It's using people.
So I'm talking, because this does matter to me. It just isn't in the way I wanted it to matter.
This is the thought I came to after a lot of wondering, recently, why I didn't ask more hard questions, why I took the word of someone who has proved to be untrustworthy. I'm not an innocent in this; I made stupid, foolish mistakes and I made assumptions I should not have made. Because of these, people I care about have been hurt. Hell, people I've barely met have been hurt. Through ignorance and unwarranted trust, I participated in actions that hurt other people, and it disgusts me. I can be an idiot and let myself get hurt, and live with that easily enough. I cannot forgive him for making me part of hurting someone else.
All I can say is that I'm sorry. I should have known, but I didn't. I didn't know because I was too willing to take what was offered without asking the hard questions or making the hard decisions. I'd been alone a long time and I assumed that the offers of intimacy were made in good faith. They were not. For what it's worth, he lied to people who did ask the tough questions, but that still doesn't excuse me taking the easy path.
And while it's true that I kept my weight on my back foot, that I kept a step back... that should not preclude an honest level of disclosure between parties. It does not justify deceit. It does not justify lying to me. It does not justify lying about me. It does not mean that anyone has the right to lie just because it makes things simpler for themselves, easier to get what they want from people (be it sex or attention or the illusion of love) without having to treat the other people like equal partners, full people with the right to informed decision and informed consent.
If you think I'm being cryptic, all I can say is that I'm trying not to do more harm here. I can't drag out other people's business without their permission or against their consent, but I can and will offer my own story as best I can. Out of respect for the other people, I want to give truth here.
I was involved with someone I thought was available, who I thought was giving me fair information. I didn't ask for commitment or obligation; I've said for some time that I intend to die old, alone, and eaten by the cats, and it would have taken more than this to make me re-evaluate that. Still, I was more involved than I've been in a very long time. It turns out that my involvement overlapped with that of several others, none of us knowing, all of us lied to. We were told very different stories about what was going on, and as far as we can tell, none of us were told the truth.
I've been told some lovely lies and I've been taken on some good dances around things that I should have known about. I've joked for a while that my involvement with this person felt a bit like the sort of magic that leads to a cold awakening on a foreign hillside. I've finally awoken, and the bright, beautiful, poetic fairy gold with which I was bought has turned to dry leaves in the light. Very little of it was true, and even that little bit has tarnished. I'm sorry. For what it's worth, there's almost nothing left of it I want to hold onto at this point.
Those of you who know what this is about may be thinking I'm speaking only out of anger. Make no mistake, I am angry. I don't like being managed or manipulated, I don't like being lied to or lied about. I don't like having been a party to cheating. I don't like being dismissed, fed half-truths to be kept biddable, or used. I am angry, and speaking out of anger, but don't make the mistake of dismissing what I'm saying because of that. I have the right to be angry in this. Anger is justified. It has not distorted my thinking; it has come instead after a lot of hard thinking on how responsible adults treat each other, and the sharp contrast between that and how I was treated, how people I care about were treated. It's worth being angry over.
Given my history I might be more oversensitive to lies of omission than most, but this is hardly an excuse to dismiss what I'm saying. Anyone I feel knows me enough that I'd be willing to share my body with them should know this and respect it. That I got involved with someone who did not is disheartening. There was a pattern of managed information meant to keep people willing and trusting, even when it was no longer warranted. Beyond even the lies of omission there were lies of commission as well, denials and flat-faced untruth.
For me it's been over for a while, a slow, lingering fading out as he took his attention elsewhere, contacting me only when someone else was mad at him, when it was a matter of damage control, when he wanted something else from me. I believed him even after hope was gone. It took me a while to learn how faint a blip I was on the radar screen.
I still would have been okay with it, kept a safer distance, shrugged about the way life works out, been as guarded as ever... except when I shared my story with a friend who was in pain and confusion, we both found out how much of what we'd been led to believe was lies and deception. How much we were strung along, how little truth we had. The more more we talked, the more lies were uncovered.
The results have not been pretty. A broken relationship, a few broken friendships, a lot of strained connections. All because someone had an easier time distorting his relationships than treating the women like full participants. It lasted until we started telling the truth. This is not the way adult relationships should work.
So in case you're wondering, it's not okay to lie. It's not okay to lie to the people you're sleeping with, it's not okay to lie about who you've slept with.
If your actions cause pain when brought to light, the proper response is to re-evaluate whether or not you should have done them. It isn't to attack the people who shared information that all parties had a right to have. The adult and responsible action is to try to correct the damage you've done, even if you somehow think your actions were justified. If you claim you did it out of some distorted, self-serving form of respect for their privacy, then you should also respect the validity of their response when you find you were wrong. You acknowledge your actions at minimum. You apologize where you were in fault. You make amends where you can.
This is not an unreasonable standard. It is how adults treat each other.
Lying to people who have told you that involvement with other people is fine as long as you're honest about it is still cheating.
Not giving your partners needful information is manipulation. It is not respect.
Lying about your level of involvement with people is disrespectful of both your past and present partners.
And if you can easily deny someone you've slept with, no matter the pretty lies you've told them, you don't respect them.
If you can't give your partners truth enough for them to make their own decisions in an informed manner, you care more about what you're getting from them than you do about them. That's not love or friendship or caring. It's using people.
So I'm talking, because this does matter to me. It just isn't in the way I wanted it to matter.