Dark of the moon
February 27, 2013 § Leave a comment
I went into that Friday night thinking that it was just about sex. Unfortunately it didn’t work out that way, and really it was never going to. I wish I had put more thought into it beforehand instead of being so self-centered. Perhaps we could have avoided this whole mess. Then again, without this whole mess perhaps I would never have learnt this lesson.
Being with Nic – or it could have been anyone, I have realised now it wasn’t about him – was about a number of things other than sex. It was about me getting something that I wanted which provided me with an unparalleled satisfaction. It was about me feeling sexy and desirable which provided me with a boosted self esteem. It was about me being in control of a situation which provided me with confidence and surety. (And of course it was fun, it certainly was good fun).
So why was I missing these things and why did it take chasing and catching another man to provide me with these things? I am openly loved and adored by my husband – why wasn’t that enough?
I wrote once before about not feeling sexy when I was with my last long-term partner, Rome. I didn’t crave sex with him and whilst I knew I was sexy, or at least capable of being sexy, I couldn’t turn it on for him. I felt self-conscious and silly instead. In the end this killed the intimacy of our five-year relationship all together and was a key factor in our ultimate separation.
I sense the same thing happening with Adam, oddly enough on the same timeline. I thought about this a bit yesterday, trying to understand what was different about Adam and Nic – or more to the point, what is there about each relationship that causes me to behave differently with each individual. It’s not age or personality or looks or sex drive or anything like that – it’s not about the individual. It’s about my relationship with the individual. The relationship differs in that with Nic I was 100% in control. I completely manipulated/influenced the situation and he let me do it because he didn’t know any better. I showed him the parts of myself that I wanted to, that would influence him in the direction that I wanted him to go and he soaked it all up, ultimately making a decision on what he knew of me. My relationship with Adam is vastly, vastly different and that comes as a result of knowing and experiencing each other for over five years. Adam knows me, almost inside out. He knows my real depths, what I am capable of, what my weaknesses are. He has seen the dark side of the moon. How do you still act sexy with someone who knows you, really truly knows you? How do you act sexy with someone who has watched you sit in bed and cry for days, someone who has had to nurse you on and off anti-depressants, someone who has had to pick you up off the floor again and again and again?
How do you act sexy with someone who knows that it’s all just a front; that beneath all the glamour and bravado there is just a scared little girl all by herself?
The answer is you can’t. All you feel is self-conscious and silly instead because that one person knows the truth, and the truth as far you’re concerned is that you’re not very sexy at all.
So when the opportunity comes along to pretend, to make someone else (or yourself) believe that you are all these wonderful, glamorous, brave, sexy things – then yes, you will forget about anything and anyone else just to have that for a night. And then when you come home the next morning, you will fall in a heap as you are faced with a true mirror showing your true reflection and you realise that last night was just a dream. The downfall is severe and slow.
Maybe that’s why my relationships always waver at a certain point (around five years?). I open myself up to make men fall in love with me and it can take years for true love. But eventually I realise they know too much about me and I stop being sexy and fun because I am convinced that they know better now, that they know otherwise about me. You can’t forget the dark once you’ve been there.
Men love me for my confidence and women hate me for it, but in reality it’s all just a front – no one is this confident without having good reason to be. Nic didn’t know any better and why would he? He didn’t know me at all.