Inside Job Log

"You cannot rely on someone else to make you feel alive: it's an inside job"


février 2017

I was talking to mother a couple of days ago. She told  (yet again…) me I should stop being so picky when it comes to choosing a partner. « Stop looking for that person who is going to tick all the boxes. You need to find someone who has those 1 or 2 or 3 qualities/values that are sine qua none for you, then just soak it up and endure the rest. That’s what everyone else do. That’s how relationships work. Hell that’s how they exist! »

So of course I’ve been thinking about this ever since. I always thought I was open and not choosy nor demanding but she was right (and God I hate that!). I had a list. A long and exhaustive and peculiar list. 

But the more I think, the more it becomes evident. Only 3 things really matter :

  1. That he/she loves me EXACTLY like I am, with all my baggage, and my non-conventional sexuality, and my over-the-top almost schizophrenic personally, and my quasi bipolar values, and my weird and ever-changing body. That the love not despite of what/who/how I am, but because of that.
  2. That she/he consider me (and later me and the kids) a priority. As selfish and egocentric as it sounds, I want to be a priority for my partner.
  3. That they are someone I can rely on and count on and lean on and trust. I should have to watch my back with them, nor feel that I have to protect myself and my emotions.

But all that is useless if you don’t have in front of you someone who, just like you, is ready to enter a committed relationship…

I’m f***ed up 

Je ne m’aime pas. 

Voilà. C’est dit. J’ai appris à faire avec moi, mais objectivement, je ne m’aime pas. Je ne pense pas que je le mérite. 

Parce que je ne m’aime pas, les autres n’ont pas envie de m’aimer. Parce que moi je ne m’aime pas, je ne crois pas les autres quand ils parviennent à m’aimer malgré moi.

I’m so screwed… L’amour me fuit parce que je lui en demande trop. J’attends de l’autre qu’il m’aime assez pour qu’une partie de cette amour nourrisse mon amour-propre. Personne n’est capable d’aimer autant. 

J’ai peur que si j’ai un enfant, je l’étouffe… J’ai peur de l’aimer trop, d’attendre de lui qu’il m’aime comme moi je ne suis pas capable de l’aimer. Je vais le foutre en l’air… 

I’m screwed and I’m messed up : I’m basically programmed to end up alone with my pity self-loathing self…

Random thoughts #377

Solitude and loneliness are two very different things. People often confuse them. Especially French speaking people because they are translated by the same word.

Solitude is something you choose. It elevates you. It allows you to dig into your thoughts. It forces you to get to know who you are. 

Loneliness is something that is imposed upon you, by life, by circumstances, by others. It makes you feel you’re not worthy. It oppresses you when you’re in the middle of a familiar crowd. It darken your thoughts and feelings. 

7 raisons pour lesquelles tant d’hommes ne comprennent pas le consentement sexuel –

Random thoughts #372

Tired of being a footnote in other people’s lives. 

Is it to much to ask to be a priority for someone ?

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