Veritas vos liberabit (The Truth will set you free)…

I have learnt instead, that its ugliness will suffocate you. One word packs sufficient potency to bring the fragile walls you put around your heart crashing down. And the only person you can effectively blame is your own self.

I have lived in a state of denial for a long time. I allow myself to believe the pithy excuses I’ve been given; rationally, they would have held up like a ra-ra skirt on a typical Melbourne Winter day but the mind (or more specifically, the heart) hears what it wants to hear. I suppose I have been hanging onto the tattered remnants of the past. If I have been living with false hope, it was certainly not from external encouragement.

I have never understood how it’s always good with men up till the moment they leave you. One minute, you’re laughing together and painting a picture of forever and the next, he’s gone, and it’s as he was never there at all, except for the burning imprint in your heart. Forgive me my generalizations but there seems to be a general modus operandi for men to leave as fast and as far as they can when a relationship is no longer perfect bliss.

I suppose it should not come as a surprise. He never loved me and never claimed to. It was I who was constantly searching for any clue that he could feel more for me; anything that would alleviate me from the status of “glorified booty call”. Yet, I still pushed. I demanded reasons for why he couldn’t (or more aptly, wouldn’t) consider taking things further with me. The reasons I got were typical: he was not ready to have a relationship, etc.

So, you can imagine my immense hurt to hear him refer to his latest “bit of fluff” as his GIRLFRIEND. He told me it was just fun; that she was leaving at the end of the year, so there was no long-lasting relationship there. LIES… I know his defense will be that circumstances change but it does not make it hurt any less for me. Nothing can soften the blow of knowing that there was nothing I could have done to have made things worked for us.

I’ve quoted Oprah Winfrey before:

“If a man really wants you, nothing can keep him away; if a man does not want you, nothing can make him stay.”

Sunt facta verbis difficiliora (Works are harder than words): It is easy to dish out platitudes but it is extremely difficult to practice what you preach. I did everything I could to show him that I could be the perfect girlfriend for him but like his friends told me, the issue was not my eligibility as a girlfriend but rather the fact that he would not make me a good boyfriend. You cannot make someone love you, no matter how much you try. That being said, sometimes, you do not have to do anything to make someone love you. It just happens. You are loved just the way you are. I know many people who would be letting out a cynical laugh as they read that last line.

After all, we all know that it is a “fact of life” that Varium et mutabile semper femina (a woman is always a changeable and capricious thing): women spend their whole lives searching for that perfect man and (if they are lucky) they marry him; they then spend the rest of their lives trying to change him. Women never really outgrow their love of playing with dolls. In this situation, boyfriends/husbands/significant others/partners become their KEN Dolls except that love allows them to do a holistic overhaul of said subject to suit their idealistic fantasies.

Yet, let’s not give women such a bad name. Yes, women do tend to harbor such characteristics but women exhibit behavior on the other end of the spectrum: “Is it (insert imaginary flaw)? I can change!!!” We’ve all heard (or used) that expression before. Three words that spell out the desperation of a woman in love: I. CAN. CHANGE. Does that not then defeat the purpose of what we define true love to be? TRUE LOVE demands loving someone the way they are. O sancta simplicitas (O sacred simplicity)…if only love and the matters of the heart were that simple.

We are people. We fought our way to the top of the food chain and we consider ourselves civilized because we communicate vocally and set rules for society to follow. But ultimately, the basic human instinct follows the laws of nature. Men are territorial and they will fight to guard what is theirs. On a similar vein, the spoils of victory cannot be savored unless a war is fought. Maybe it is a trait not as dominant in the present as it was with our ancestors but it does still remain a part of a Man’s DNA. Again, the basic law of Human Nature applies: Qui multum habet, plus cupit (He who has much desires more): we want what we do not have.

I was an easy mark. He never had to fight for me. He knew I was interested and I caved in way too early and easily. He had me, he had his fun and he got over me just as quickly. Pure and Simple? Perhaps to his male logic, it was; but in my female (complicated) mind, things just do not end (resolve) themselves so easily. When he walked away from me, I chose to play the martyr/victim and say that he was a bastard for treating me in such a manner and being cold-hearted in walking away. I am not saying the guy was the perfect gentleman or an angel but I have to admit that that is the usual modus operandi for most men: when you do not feel for the girl (or in his case, she has served her purpose), you walk away. If I were to be honest, I wish I could be more like a man in that aspect. To be able to walk away without first having to spend forever living in the memories of the past and the land of “what-could-have-been” and “if only”.

If it were only him, I could write this phenomenon off as a one-off and I would not be sitting here at four in the morning on a Saturday writing this; I should be summoning up the strength to undo the straps of my impossibly-high heels, taking off my make-up and hobbling on numb feet to my bed, exhausted after a big fun night out. My little escapade with Rebound guy ended on a similar note and the guy I was genuinely interested in after him went down the same path; Hinc illæ lacrimæ (Therefore these tears).Once is an accident, two a coincidence but three? It’s a conspiracy or rather to sound less paranoid (and more normal), there is a pattern beginning to emerge. Nemo sine vitio est (No one is without fault): Let’s not be a pompous, arrogant fool and say that I am blame-free but let’s also give one to the self-esteem and self-confidence department by admitting that maybe, just maybe…there is the remote possibility that it’s not all me.

“Marry in haste, repent at leisure”

I swear, it has to be one of the most ridiculous phrases I have ever heard. Marriage should not be entered into lightly. Desperation is in truth, not a valid reason to swap your maiden name for his and sign up for joint accounts. We all know someone whose choice of a life-partner continues to leave us bemused; I can assure you that when you ask someone incredulously why she married the fella, one of the most probable (and common) answer you’d get is “She turned 30 (or insert appropriate age milestone.” Crudelius est quam mori semper timere mortem (It is crueler to always be afraid of dying than to die): fear of spinsterhood (loneliness) spurs women into drastic action. Yes, like all little girls, I have dreamed of the perfect wedding but marriage is not just about the frou-frou white dress; the chance to make your best friend wear an ugly dress she’d never wear again just to make you look beautiful; the romantic church ceremony; the glitzy dinner or any of the superficial things.

Marriage is forever. It is built upon the foundations of love: Omnia vincit amor (Love conquers all); but most significantly, it is about commitment. What is commitment? Is it being able to stay faithful to someone in a long distance relationship? I suppose it could be. But to me, true commitment is waking up and seeing the same person brush his teeth every morning for 30 years (or however long you live after marriage). Marriage is not about the blissful romantic moments or the occasional fights. It is about being able to live with the person everyday in ordinary circumstances without feeling like you want to tear your hair out and run screaming through the streets.

Si vis amari, ama (If you want to be loved, love).We all want to fall in love and marry the perfect man (or woman). But the two do not necessarily come in a package: we do not always love the perfect person for us. For reasons we can never fathom, love comes in the strangest places and sometimes, Nondum amabam, et amare amabam (I did not love, even if I yearned to love):we can try our hardest but feel no passion for the perfect man (or woman). He/she may possess all the qualities we look for in a mate but if there is no chemistry, there is nothing there. Yet, we can love someone who is not quite right or totally wrong for us; movies and songs center around this theme of loving the wrong person and the resulting heartbreak.

I do not advocate marrying the “safe choice” or saying that the only marriages that will work are the boring, vanilla relationships. Security, faithfulness, trust, commitment and love are the tenements of marriage. But that is not what I am arguing about today. There are two kinds of people in this world: the ones who find love permanently and those who are meant to be alone. I feel that many women fear the latter greatly and hence, enter into marriage posthaste to avoid facing their phobias.

Non nobis solum nati sumus (We are not born for ourselves alone): The thought of marriage and the need to be with someone is genetically-ingrained in me hence, my constant laments over my perpetual state of singleness but I am beginning to learn that being alone does not necessarily mean being lonely and jumping from one hot frying pan only to land in another does not help to make you forget your initial woes; you just create more.

My opening statement is a phrase that is oft-used in the English language but what not many people know is that its origins come from the Bible:

“If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (John 8:31-32)

The truth WILL set you free. If the set conditions are met: you need to know it, believe it and accept it. Otherwise, the truth loses all significance. I know the truth -even if tragically, it had to be learnt the hard way but then again, Quae nocent, docent (What harms, teaches). I am making headway in believing the truth given that it is hard not to when the evidence for the case it is building up to grows each day (that and the therapy sessions I’ve been through). But I am so far from acceptance that I cannot even fathom a light at the end of the tunnel.

Video meliora proboque deteriora sequor (I see the better and acknowledge it, but I follow the worse). This, unfortunately, is the reason why the ugliness of the truth suffocates me.

Yet, Dum Spiro Spero (When I breathe, I hope). Stat sua cuique dies (The date is set for each and everyone): I believe my day (of acceptance) will come and Forsan et hæc olim meminisse iuvabit (Perhaps even this one day will be pleasant to look back on) and if I am lucky, Suum cuique (To each what he deserves): the right one will come along for me and Karma will finally come around to bite him on his ass.

P.S: If this post sounds as if I have had a Latin dictionary grafted onto my brain, I do
apologize but I was tickled by the notion of Omnia dicta fortiora si dicta Latina
(Everything sounds more impressive in Latin).

The Lingering Past of a Love Masochist

I didn’t forget about you. It was just easier to stop talking about you…

We all make mistakes or do things we’re not proud of but what if, as much as you try, you are unable to bury it in the past and let sleeping dogs lie? After all that’s been said and done, you would think that there was nothing left to resurrect. It is the hardest thing to move on just because the other party has, and not because you’re ready. I think my biggest fear is that I will never be able to move on, at least, not for a long time.

Everyone has that one person who blew into their life like a storm (and blew out leaving an equally catastrophic aftermath) and stirred up feelings in them that they never knew existed; someone who inspires you to do things you never thought you’d do or say. Being involved (or in my case, falling in love) with this person, is like opening Pandora’s Box: once opened, you can never go back. The status quo is irrevocably changed and very likely, not for the better.

I loved with a passion and we fought with a passion. I went through the many stages of trying to define my relationship with this person and till this day, there is no neat little compartment to categorize it. All the scattered emotions are still flung about willy-nilly, flooding the surrounding areas with grey and I believe, try as I may, there will never be a black-and-white delineation to define what it was that we had and what it is that we have now.

Perhaps all this drama is to some extent, self-inflicted. The fault lies on my part for being unable to let go of what I (may never have had and) so obviously have lost. Why is it so hard to let go of this romanticized ideal that I seem to so stubbornly hold onto of what I imagine our relationship should (or would) be like. Perhaps, it is the basic laws of Human Nature: You want what you cannot have. This person has demonstrated to me on many occasions that I cannot rely on this person or expect this person to ever set me as a priority and yet, given the opportunity, I crawl back to this person, swallowing my (towering) pride on every occasion, hoping to win this person back.

The pathetic part of this entire situation is that I am not doing this because I have no other options. I seem to be doing it out of a masochistic need to put myself through the wringer of love every single time. I have given my all in trying to tear myself out of this piteous scenario and to some extent, I have been successful in opening myself to new opportunities but if I had to be honest, I’d have to say that these distractions are merely temporarily. At the end of the day, I know that this person is my “one and only”… But I will never have him (or the chances are as slim as an African-American deciding to join the KKK).

On the surface, it appears as if I have moved on to greener pastures; I smile, I laugh, there is no awkwardness when I am asked about the situation between the both of us but the truth is, silence does not mean erasure, it’s mere suppression as my ego (viciously) makes me swallow my true feelings because it is better to suffocate the soul than admit the shameful state of things. I will kill myself before I will admit that the state of things between us is not fine.

The logical solution is to walk away and make a clean break. I wish it were that easy. All relationship self-help books will tell you to do this but sometimes, I wonder if these authors really know how hollow these platitudes sound; it is easy to sit on your lofty laurels and smile smugly as you dispense advice that is never self-followed or is irrelevant to your situation. I am a moth to this person’s flame and I think human nature (and the stubborn fool that I am) is such that the proverbial child will have a burning desire (pardon the pun) to play with fire when told explicitly not to.

Like any other female whose emotions are tied to the hormonal roller-coaster of my DNA and biological cycle, my self-esteem goes through the yo-yo stages of alternating between loving the person I am and self-loathing. I can guarantee you that every female (and males as well) go through days where they put themselves through a sadistic self-torture of feeling like they are ugly, pathetic, fat and that no one will ever love them or they do a self-evaluation and wonder why no one wants them even though they feel that they are not a bad person.

Women excel at this. I can safely say that a large proportion of women have been in the circumstances where they have passed a seemingly unattractive woman (as compared to themselves) on the street with an attractive man and wonder how come that woman has found someone and they haven’t. Of course, she will feel bad for being so “superficial” and the old “maybe she’s a wonderful person and he cares about more than looks” theory will surface. (This incidentally seems to be the default disclaimer that all women seem to automatically make in their minds; whether it is something we do to not appear mean or that women have herd mentality when it comes to platitudes.) The subsequent “logical” hypothesis she will then, theorize is that she is even worse than that woman and that is why no one wants her and panic and self-pity moves into her heart like the animals to Noah’s Ark during the big flood.

Don’t you love the logical fine-workings of a woman’s mind? “Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars”? Honey, I have news for you, we’re from a whole different solar system…

In any case, this flawed logic is often the result for why many a woman is so tied to someone who is obviously all wrong for them. In fact, just this afternoon, a work colleague and I were discussing the personal life of the store’s manager: that she’s attractive, driven and a lovely woman but yet, she’s dating a loser. In all of this, the cowardly hypocrite in me conveniently forgot that I was in a somewhat similar situation but I was slightly worse off in actually running after a “loser” who doesn’t want me. But let’s not make this (too much) about me…*smirk*

In any girly gossip exchange, one of the most oft-used phrases you will hear is “She can do so much better than him”. Of course she can! But such a pithy statement is easy to espouse when not walking in that woman's Manolo Blahniks (or insert your favored brand of heels). A woman in love (or desperation) is like a horse with blinkers on; she is blind to a man’s flaws: she sees only what she wants to see. In such circumstances, one could say that love is blind or the woman’s self-esteem is in such tatters that she thinks that the “paragon of virtue” that she has chosen to throw herself at, is anything but.

Which leads me to surmise one thing about myself: I am a LOVE MASOCHIST.

For some reason, I choose to put myself through hell when it comes to relationships. Yes, Love & Relationships are hard but I have a sneaky suspicion that 75% of the drama is all in my heart and head. (Not surprising honestly, given my drama queen predilections…) Why I feel the need to fight so hard for it to make it seem worthwhile is beyond me… Is it because I have a compelling compunction to do things the hard way so that I will appreciate it or are there other deeper reasons at play such as low self-esteem and commitment-phobia?

Either way, the self-sabotage seems to hark at latent S&M tendencies that really, are not that appealing in “a nice girl” like me.

Flirting: The Fine Nuances between Harmless or Intentional

“Sigh no more, Ladies, sigh no more…
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant, never!
So sigh not so, and let them go
And be you blithe and bonny,
Casting all your cares and woes
And singing: Hey Nonny, Nonny!”

“Much Ado About Nothing”
(William Shakespeare)

I believe it is the prerogative of any woman to indulge in a little flirtation, more so, if you have the confidence and/or attractiveness to pull it off. And it is irregardless of marital status. I am not encouraging a married woman to start a torrid affair, but sometimes, when you are in a relationship, flirting is all you can do and it can be fun and be a bit of an ego-booster. Before any one gets on their high moral horse, I have to clarify that I am talking about harmless flirtation; a little witty repartee between two parties; as long as the involved parties are fully aware that it is just a game and merely words, with no ulterior motives. There is nothing wrong with window-shopping. You just have to be sure that you do not get tempted to purchase.

Yes, there is a very fine line between a little fun and having less-than-honorable intentions. It is a game that is as light-hearted as you want to be, but just as quickly can turn deadly. The status quo does not remain static, it changes easily without notice. So how do you decide when you are venturing into shark-infested waters?

When does a friendly smile turn seductive? Or a hug hello last that bit too longer? Or a peck on the cheek that seem to be a little too close to the mouth? Suddenly, Proxemics becomes an issue and you do not feel quite so comfortable sitting with that person’s thigh pressed against yours…

Male-female relationships are rife with such potential problems. Some of us start friendships with the opposite sex with the best of intentions and the flirtation process begins gradually. Other relationships start off with fast and furious flirting that blurs the lines with each encounter. I have been a party to both situations.

In the latter situation, the flirting got me into deeper waters than I intended to be in. I admit that our flirtation started from the first time we met and grew in intensity and danger at every meeting. I would admit that I spent an inordinate amount of time baiting him and slipping as many double entendres as I could into our conversations. Needless to say, the so-called harmless flirtation I was indulging in had less than innocent results. The aftermath was an emotionally-damaging year of a dysfunctional relationship.

In my defense, the guy in question is incapable of having a purely platonic relationship with any female that is not a family member. I think till this day, even though he is supposedly involved with another girl, if I were to give him a proper hug (like a Koala), I will definitely get a reaction “down south”. As much as I would like to flatter myself and say that I’m a “superfly shorty”, I think it’s more of a physical reaction than anything else.

But his comments did get me thinking as I recall another friend with less sleazy/player tendencies who had similar sentiments: that a guy cannot be friends with any girl without at some point, wondering what it would be like to hook up with her. This intrigued me as I think most women tend to categorize their male friends into categories of those that they could possibly consider dating and those that will forever live in the category of the “surrogate brother”. Case in point, there is always the token “gay best friend” who we love to death and call him the most affectionate of names and reveals to him, the most intimate details of ourselves because he’s gay and “it doesn’t matter”. In this case, he comes under the category of being a “sister/girlfriend”. Of course, there is still hope for the “surrogate brother” who may be fortunate enough to make the transition from that category to the “date-able” category. Whatever it is, there tends to be a distinction for women.

Of course, I do know there are limits and rules in how you should engage in the art of flirting and who makes an eligible candidate. Friends with girlfriends are off-limits (especially ones whose girlfriends you are not on that familiar/close terms with); boyfriends of friends are similarly off-limits. Any senior male relatives of friends are also not appropriate (even if you think that your girlfriend’s similarly-aged uncle is oh-so-sexy, eligible and SINGLE, do not go there!) I also tend to respect the rule that someone else’s prey is off-limits, i.e. do not flirt with a guy if you have a friend or know someone who is genuinely interested in him. Of course, if the predator (other girl) is being a bitch to you, then I say, “All’s fair in love and war” and I will unsheathe the claws and “may the best bitch win”. (Disclaimer: I normally dislike playing this game because it's spiteful, pointless and hurtful.)

Recently, I had an intensive course at University that meant I had to sacrifice Friday and Saturdays over three weeks for 7 hours of class. Needless to say, everyone in class was pretty much forced to hang out since there was nobody else around. It was a diverse class with many interesting people and I had every intention of widening my social circle. One of my classmates included this guy who had many friends in common with me. We have seen each other before but never properly been introduced or hung out. This opportunity arose with the class. I believe that his cultural background is largely attributable for his overly-friendly, flirty and “touch-feely” nature. In any case, I established a friendly, harmless flirty rapport with him. I did not see our relationship being anything beyond the platonic.

A girl in our class had her sights set on him and it got to the point where she had came up to me and asked me point-blank if I liked him. I was of course shocked and told her that I honestly thought that there was something going on with him and her. She must not have believed me because she started being cold towards me. I felt bad as I knew how bad it could feel to like someone and not know if he feels the same. Out of respect for her, I started to distance myself from the guy: keeping a physical distance and down-playing the flirtation. All I got for my trouble was the guy thinking that I was angry with him.

We cleared that up at a friend’s party and there was a nice warm make-up session with lots of hugging, etc. And to be mean, I think we did take some misleading “intimate” photos to put up on Facebook for her to see. We were not out to be mean but we were a little tired of her behavior that resulted in the two of us having a misunderstanding.

I admit that at times, I wondered how much of his behavior was harmless flirting and how much of it was him trying to make a move on me. To some extent, he is the sort of guy who likes the thrill of the chase and would willingly play “Kiss Chase” with a girl as long as she plays hard to get. Whatever his intentions are, I have no interest in finding out. I have had enough relationship dramas, thank you very much.

In any case, you would think that my years of being friends with a disproportionate amount of the opposite sex would have taught me to be a little more cautious in how I interact with them; I would say that the secret tease in me is very reluctant to give up any opportunity to be a “c**k-tease”. To be honest, it’s a head-trip and an ego-boost. I can assure you that knowing how to push the right buttons of the opposite sex is not a skill every girl has; especially the ability to do it with subtlety and finesse. Most self-respecting women I know will deny enjoying “the art of tantalization” but trust me; a lot of women secretly enjoy it.

Power is better than any drug; it’s an inimitable head trip…

After all, you got it, you flaunt it; you have it, you exploit it.

This is the facts of life.