Today, while getting a haircut, my mental paradigms about myself and my place in the world were drastically shifted by the young girl with brown hair getting her hair cut in the chair next to mine. When I first noticed her reflection in the mirror through a darting glance, I was vaguely aware that she was looking at me. I made conversation with my stylist for a few minutes and then looked again, this time purposefully. She was looking at me again. We stared. I felt uncomfortable, smiled. She smiled in return. Afterward, I realized she was quite young, perhaps under fourteen years old. I avoided making eye contact again. Now, I'm not the kind of grown man that is going to try and capitalize on sexual opportunities with underage girls, but we had had what I like to call a moment. I couldn't help but notice, throughout the rest of my haircut, that she was looking my way from time to time. Who could blame me for avoiding such an interaction? I felt shame for having even entered into that short, shared smile. Yes, aren't you relieved? And yet, I felt bad for not returning to our friendly exchange, bad that I might make her feel unappreciated, undesirable.
Do you ever feel like we have signs on our foreheads like "Hey, you can take advantage of me." or "Hey, I won't fight back!" or "Over here! I'm easily fooled?" I sure feel that way. No one knew what I was going through growing up, but the bullies at school didn't need to read my book to know they could get away with harassing me. It seems unfair, but I think I wore my victim role on my face, inviting new people to try and exploit me. I can make sense of getting hit at home and getting hit by bullies, but, and this is the point, it hasn't been so clear to me what sign is on my forehead with women.
Just for now, let's try on "Dirty Old Man." What if that's the sign my young lover saw? What if the much younger girl getting her haircut was reading the same sign? It's hard for me to know what she read. Generally, I attract women with dysfunctional relationship habits, lots of self-hatred, and lots of anger toward some man in their lives who greatly disappointed them. Dirty Old Man sounds sexy and desirable, but leaves plenty of room for hatred and judgment later on. There might be something to all of this, but assuming women are reading a sign on my head is convoluted and keeps me from looking at my own part in interacting with other humans and myself. Plus, whatever any girl reads on my head is most likely more about her than me. There's something to the types of people we draw, but I can't sort it out at that level anymore.
How does Dirty Old Man apply to me? Getting easy stuff out of the way first, I am a man. To an ever increasing number of people, I am old. Dirty? Well, with a wink, I'll tell you I'm not so bad. In my defense, I live among human beings, a species that conspicuously hides its sexuality with clothing, lies, and shaming judgments. At least we don't stone adulterers in the streets anymore. No, we just destroy them socially, if we can. Some people shudder at the growth of shamelessness about sexual behavior, but, what good has all this shame done for us? So, I'm sexual. I enjoy it. Sex in this society is already hidden and forbidden so much, and my family was full of rules, secrets, and lies about it. So, yeah, a little bit of dirt is a little bit exciting to me. I'll admit that.
What draws me to women is something different, something about their vulnerability, something connected to my mom and my shame for allowing my dad to beat her for years and ultimately kill her. I guess my heart is drawn to abused women like the fists of those bullies were drawn to my face. I don't mean to be abusive. I don't think I really am, but, in these recreations, it always seems to get told that way. From my side, I feel compassion and reach out, the woman shares her vulnerabilities, and then I'm an asshole for not having loved the right way or for having needs of my own. That's fair. I usually enter romance as a man without needs. I'll give for a long time and then start wanting something back.
My dad was this way, except his interactions often included violence. He would present himself as cool and without needs, until he started feeling attached. Then he would begin building a case against the woman, ultimately unleashing his anger. He wasn't a serial killer or stalker. He didn't kidnap anyone, well, unless they had been lovers previously. He had a nasty habit of believing that he owned anyone he had ever slept with. I guess I'm included there.
What was the sign on his head? Had he been sexually molested as a child and felt like the other person took all power from him? Just questions prompted by the last paragraph.... Your thoughts?
Do you ever feel like we have signs on our foreheads like "Hey, you can take advantage of me." or "Hey, I won't fight back!" or "Over here! I'm easily fooled?" I sure feel that way. No one knew what I was going through growing up, but the bullies at school didn't need to read my book to know they could get away with harassing me. It seems unfair, but I think I wore my victim role on my face, inviting new people to try and exploit me. I can make sense of getting hit at home and getting hit by bullies, but, and this is the point, it hasn't been so clear to me what sign is on my forehead with women.
Just for now, let's try on "Dirty Old Man." What if that's the sign my young lover saw? What if the much younger girl getting her haircut was reading the same sign? It's hard for me to know what she read. Generally, I attract women with dysfunctional relationship habits, lots of self-hatred, and lots of anger toward some man in their lives who greatly disappointed them. Dirty Old Man sounds sexy and desirable, but leaves plenty of room for hatred and judgment later on. There might be something to all of this, but assuming women are reading a sign on my head is convoluted and keeps me from looking at my own part in interacting with other humans and myself. Plus, whatever any girl reads on my head is most likely more about her than me. There's something to the types of people we draw, but I can't sort it out at that level anymore.
How does Dirty Old Man apply to me? Getting easy stuff out of the way first, I am a man. To an ever increasing number of people, I am old. Dirty? Well, with a wink, I'll tell you I'm not so bad. In my defense, I live among human beings, a species that conspicuously hides its sexuality with clothing, lies, and shaming judgments. At least we don't stone adulterers in the streets anymore. No, we just destroy them socially, if we can. Some people shudder at the growth of shamelessness about sexual behavior, but, what good has all this shame done for us? So, I'm sexual. I enjoy it. Sex in this society is already hidden and forbidden so much, and my family was full of rules, secrets, and lies about it. So, yeah, a little bit of dirt is a little bit exciting to me. I'll admit that.
What draws me to women is something different, something about their vulnerability, something connected to my mom and my shame for allowing my dad to beat her for years and ultimately kill her. I guess my heart is drawn to abused women like the fists of those bullies were drawn to my face. I don't mean to be abusive. I don't think I really am, but, in these recreations, it always seems to get told that way. From my side, I feel compassion and reach out, the woman shares her vulnerabilities, and then I'm an asshole for not having loved the right way or for having needs of my own. That's fair. I usually enter romance as a man without needs. I'll give for a long time and then start wanting something back.
My dad was this way, except his interactions often included violence. He would present himself as cool and without needs, until he started feeling attached. Then he would begin building a case against the woman, ultimately unleashing his anger. He wasn't a serial killer or stalker. He didn't kidnap anyone, well, unless they had been lovers previously. He had a nasty habit of believing that he owned anyone he had ever slept with. I guess I'm included there.
What was the sign on his head? Had he been sexually molested as a child and felt like the other person took all power from him? Just questions prompted by the last paragraph.... Your thoughts?
As I learn to let go and grow, I'm finding that my perceptions are not so permanent. At the wise age of 42, I'm seeing myself in everyday life like never before. I'm feeling my feelings more powerfully and fully, and, yes, making those I love most quite miserable as well. I'm probably pissing off lots of people, and I just haven't noticed. Maybe it's been this way all my life. I've been doing lots of writing and soul-searching, and it sounds good to attribute the changes to my heroic efforts to be a better person and bestow my gifts upon mankind. Oh, how I love to represent myself that way. Really, that's only part of my story. I say I'm wise and 42 with tongue in cheek, a high-five to a very special young woman who has spent the last couple of years experiencing my foolishness first-hand, perhaps for her own selfish reasons, perhaps to give me the gift of insight. Maybe it's both. Maybe neither of us knew what we were doing. I'm trying to learn about how the world sees me and how I choose to interact.
We all have patterns of loving and patterns of pain that seem to go hand in hand. May we all learn about ourselves and make the healthiest choices we can.
© 2013 Ernest Samuel Christie III
We all have patterns of loving and patterns of pain that seem to go hand in hand. May we all learn about ourselves and make the healthiest choices we can.
© 2013 Ernest Samuel Christie III
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