To Love Or Not To Love?

to_love_or_not_to_love__by_who_i_am_4lyf-d4nnbdiI like to think of myself as this courageous, kick ass woman. My so-called bravery even led me to chase after and fight with the thief who grabbed my cell phone that one time – a fight I won by the way. I am fierce, tough and empowered – a true Leo according to my zodiac sign. The older I get however, the more I realize that my flash in the pants bravo is truly a facade that I have perfected to such a degree that I don’t even recognize my bullshit.

Yes it seems that there truly is such a thing as too strong and in my quest for independence and self-reliance I have compromised or left no room for the softer things in life. I would hazard a guess that my difficult childhood is a huge factor and I subsequently built a wall of defenses that not only protects me but also keeps me trapped.

Here’s a little story – there was this guy in college, gorgeous, crush worthy, the kind of guy that girls notice. I use to see him almost every day in the school library and after a while I began to notice that he would stare at me. Whenever I passed him on the stairs or I was studying at a table. I mentioned this to my girlfriends and they suggested that he probably liked me. This startled me but I tried to play it off saying that I doubt he was interested in me and even if he were that he was not my type. My girlfriends didn’t believe me and hounded me for a response to whether or not I really wasn’t interested in this guy; especially should he express his interest in me. I held firm – he was not my type so it wouldn’t matter.

Low and behold my resolve was tested as a few weeks later Mr. Gorgeous and I finally got to talking and it turns out that my girlfriends were right and the stares were stares of interest. Let’s just say that I was suddenly into Mr Gorgeous – type be damned, he was Mr Gorgeous after all.

Here’s a little fact about me – I have never had a crush, not a real life, not-in-the-entertainment-industry kind of crush. I have never liked anyone who didn’t like me first. That’s how strong my defenses run. I won’t risk rejection.

Of, course I have had the conversation too many times to count now – the one about why I am still single, if I want marriage and children etc. It annoys me to no end because to be quite honest I can take or leave those things. Like many women I went through the phase where I wanted kids and all that is supposed to go along with it.

However as my experiences grew, the more convinced I became that these things are really not as they appear. I have seen too many hearts broken (including my own) and too many children burdened by broken homes and distant parents. So I’m hoping that by choosing to not have a child I will therefore not add one more emotionally scarred human being to the planet. As a product of a single parent home myself my probability of raising a serial killer is actually statistically significant. The figures are that 89% of serial killers were raised by only their mother – take from that what you will. For me, I say it’s not worth the risk. I have even taken to telling my friends that I have reconciled myself to becoming an old woman with cats.

Still I do want companionship, although I don’t say it and I am certainly not looking for it. It would be nice to have someone, but my tough exterior does not divulge this yearning, nor the fact that my last relationship ended in 2009.

I deeply envy people who are able to bounce back as it were from failed relationships and heartbreak. They possess the true human courage that really matter. A bravery of spirit that allows them to be vulnerable after they have had their hearts ripped out. That’s what I truly fear – falling in love. Despite all the bravo that I display on a daily basis the moment that I start to feel close to someone I start to pull away.

There’s my conundrum, I want someone in my life, but I certainly don’t want to be vulnerable again by falling in love with that person. Oh and the sex – I won’t compromise on that. I may even give in to a small degree of emotional attachment for great sex. I guess I’m just not ready to be that old lady with the cats yet.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s