Too Independent?

While moving house this weekend, several people offered to help. One actually did (most kindly, even though she was sick, she drove the thirty kilometres to my house and bullied me into actually packing), but I had declined most offers. When I went to one friend's house for dinner on Saturday, he asked me if I'd manage, since he was one of the people who promised help--but in the way he wanted to, which was coming to oversee the movers in the evening, regardless of the fact that I was moving in the morning--and wasn't going to deliver.

I looked at him and said, of course I'll manage. I always manage; what's your point? I've always moved house by myself. (Except when I was living with dragonfly, when she and her then boy helped. But even then. I just benefited from her presence cos her boy was helping her.)

He looked a bit shocked and said, maybe you're too independent.

It's a lesson I've learned well now: I'd better be able to do it myself because what's the alternative when people let you down? Curl up in a ball and refuse to move? The only people I know will always be there for me, regardless of anything else, the people who I can call at 2am and say please, come and help me pack up my glasses, and they will come, are my parents. And Scoo, of course.

But it made me think about it. I realise that I wasn't quite as cynical about this pre-BBot. (Hee shall I create my version of BCE and CE: BBB and ABB?) I put a lot of pressure on that relationship, maybe because people have let me down in the past, and I somehow thought that a boyfriend wouldn't--surely it's in the job description? I guess some teenage and early-twenties relationship experience would have helped eh?

When I was moving house in 2009--about four and a half months into our relationship--BBot swore he'd dedicate the entire weekend to helping me pack and move. He was buying my couch off me as well, so he'd come and oversee movers for that, etc. My parents asked me if they should keep the weekend free to help, but I blithely told them there was no need; I'd got it--my friends, more importantly, my boyfriend, would help.

The Friday before the move, there was a mad house party. As I've said in the past, BBot didn't make much effort to get to know my friends, especially at that point. I knew that it would end up being like a frat party, with everyone completely smashed and behaving outrageously. I also knew that he would neither indulge in that kind of behaviour nor enjoy watching other people do it. I told him. He insisted on coming anyway. Predictably, he did not have fun. He got increasingly upset as the night went by, and I got increasingly drunk and crazy. We got home, and the next morning he wouldn't look me in the eye or talk to me. I tried very hard to coax out of him what the problem was--I figured he'd felt excluded and rejected and was upset. He yelled at me, telling me that I was crazy. We were all behaving like spoiled college kids. Didn't we realise we were adults and should behave like adults? Grow up! he exhorted me. I was pretty hurt, so I got angry and told him that he was being ridiculously judgemental, and I had told him not to come! He left. I didn't hear from him for two days--the two days he was supposed to be helping me move.

I called my mum and ran home to be fed and cossetted a bit, and she came back with me to help me pack. My dad came with the movers and oversaw them and took the truck back home with all the stuff. I made two trips to my new place with my stuff, and dumped it. Eventually, BBot showed up, with his flatmate, to collect the couch. I was thinking wtf dude? He skulked about and muttered to me how he felt left out and alienated by my friends, and he was sorry he hadn't answered the phone or even called me, but he really did need the space.

That might have been the beginning of the end. We managed to drag it on a while though eh?

The effect this incident had was twofold.

First, that's the first time in my adult life that I had fully put my trust in a guy, and he crashed that plane well. Second, that was the first time I had put all my belief in our relationship and he kinda pooped on it. Especially because he kept saying it was my fault for taking him to that party. I don't think I was ever able to put that much faith in him and his commitment to our relationship ever again, which is why he probably felt he was not man enough for me etc etc.

The thing is, the universe gives women very contradictory signals. On the one hand, you're not supposed to put expectations on people because then you'll be disappointed and it'll be your own fault. On the other hand, women must be frail and delicate and need men. You may say I'm simplifying it, but even if one looks at the middle ground--be self-sufficient, but don't be incapable of asking for help--once you've been let down enough times, regardless of emotional effect, you kind of just get used to doing it on your own because it would never get done otherwise. Also, some sorts of gender-based divisions of labour are hard to incorporate in your life simply because you do live on your own for a long time before there is a man to kill the spiders or change the tyres*. You can't live your life unable to do these things until a guy comes along! And once you're in the habit of doing it yourself, you're in the habit. It's hard to change. The older you get, the harder it gets. Of course, one hopes that the older they get the less men care about this stuff. I'll keep you posted on that.

I do know women, like Dragon, who are totally capable but manage to exude this aw-pore-lil-me thing that has men flocking to drive them places, buy their drinks, carry their bags and help them with this, that and the other. I just can't do it. What you see is what you get. Growing up, Amma taught us to be self-sufficient--always be able to carry your luggage on your own. Learn to change tyres and lightbulbs. Try doing it on your own first!--and so I had to learn to ask for help.And once I did, I found it's harder to deal with help being refused or, worse, promised and then denied, than with just having to take care of yourself. So I can't deny that a large amount of my independence has more to do with fear of those two things than with actually being self-sufficient. Deep inside, I *do* want to be able to sit back and rely on someone. I just don't want to deal with the crashes, or even test a relationship that much.

*Completely random choices; I realise there are many kinds of roles and thingies. substitute whatever works for you.

Unsolicited Advice

Expanding on the life lessons from before, here's a pithy phrase to keep in mind when you're breaking up with someone.

If it doesn't make you feel better, don't do it.
Regardless of how much better it makes them feel.
Seriously.

You're both going to be bad guys, so don't lie down and be a doormat. Give yourself sympathy. Breakups ARE shitty.  That's kind of the unavoidable innate nature of them, and you can't make it happy and sweet and kind. Don't try.

Circumstantial Infertility

I was at a dinner party at a friend's on Saturday, where someone brought their insanely adorable 18-month-old daughter. Half French and half Mizo, that girl was too much. She was cranky as hell, because it was past her bedtime, but I managed to coax her out of it, and we had so much fun. My friend, the host, who loves kids too, was very miffed that she took to me, because she doesn't like him much. Cheap thrills. He asked me how I was so good with kids? And I said, I dunno, maybe I was born to be a mother?

At this moment, two of my closest friends have kids, Scoo has a kid (aka the Centre of my Universe, or Her Ladyship), and six people I know are going to have em in the next six months.

It's a very strange time for me. I love all these women (well the ones I know well at any rate), and I'm so happy for them. But it also really hurts every so often, because all I have EVER wanted was to have kids, and I haven't the faintest prospect at the moment. I even think that one of the reasons I have don't have a Career is because I don't care enough about anything more than I do about raising a family. Perhaps the cooking ties into this too, and perhaps that's why cooking is something that does inspire me.

Don't get me wrong, I have no illusions about how exhausting and difficult it is or about how much it can swallow you up, emotionally, physically and mentally. I know it's not roses and kittens. But there's something about kids. They love me; I love them. Maybe because I am not at all self-conscious about 'behaving like a child.' When I'm around a kid I have a legit excuse!

Anyway, the Bride pointed me to this lovely piece, where I got the title of this post from. I wish more people would write things like this, so people have to think about what happens between the cracks. And so they stop saying 'Oh you've got tons of time!' There's only as much time as you want there to be before you start feeling it's too late. If feminism is about choice, then what happens to those who choose they want children? All the freedom means someone like me--who might have had an arranged marriage and kids by now in a different time, and been perfectly happy--is wandering around in circles and questioning her sense of self and belonging.

Of course, you could say that I am not circumstantially infertile because I do want to adopt after all. Still, it's not a financially viable option.

I am terrified though, that I'll be her in the end. Maybe I should be a Montessori school teacher, or run a daycare!

Scooped

I was gonna write a long post about how dating is such shite in India these days (maybe it's Delhi, maybe it's everywhere, maybe it's my age...) but eM scooped me. Still, go read and pretend it was me, so that I'm not violating my new must write rule, even though i don't have internet at home and am moving this weekend...

Fables of Friendship

(To expand on yesterday's post and this abrupt decision. I warn you though, there might be a lot of angsty person rants on the subject of BBot in days to come.)

While ranting to the Bride about how I love my blog name and I do not want to lose it, etc., she raised the point that, well, it's not really possible to hide the blog from SigOth for ever; also, why would you want to?

I completely agree.
If we break up and you continue to read my blog, you should expect that I might say uncomplimentary things about you.
The problem is that I'm a bit pathetic, and so don't want to inadvertently hurt his feelings (okay DIDN'T want to...now I don't give a flying fuck). I still kept at it though.

However, an unsavoury development occurred.

I've always believed that when you're dating someone, especially when they're officially the girl/boyfriend, it pays to get to know their friends. First, it's highly likely they are people you will like, since you like the SigOth. Second, you will not always force them to choose to make time. Third, and this is the most important one, they can give you insight into the SigOth, and help you when you're in a dilemma and need to know more about this person you've upset, by shedding light on something in the past, or something about their habitual way of expressing themself, that will make it easier for you to reconcile. So I made it a point to befriend all of BBot's friends in Hyd. I'm very glad I did, because it brought me three people who are now exceedingly valuable in my life.

BBot, on the other hand, isn't quite as social as I am, and didn't really try. Even though Dragon, for one, and he are ridiculously similar, he would only bristle when she came to visit, and make no effort at all. Though that's probably my fault for telling him one day, when he'd let me down for the seventh time, that my friends thought he was bad for me because he never put me first. He was a fool, because he'd have gained a great friend, and a lot of insight into me, and maybe our relationship would have survived, because someone ELSE would be telling him he was deliberately misinterpreting everything I said. I might also have not got exhausted at being the chief counsellor and peacemaker for both of us, having to explain to him everything about myself and having to guess everything about him.

Anyway, cut to January 2011, when he was visiting, and all we did on the visit was fight and cry. He'd stal off to the balcony to smoke, with Dragon, and they started bonding. The next time we met, in February, things were as bad between us, if not worse, and he got all the fun and comic relief he wanted from hanging out with her. Which was fine by me, because I was REALLY hoping he was trying to get some insight!

Finally, in March, I gathered the courage to break up with him. He was, understandably, upset. He wanted to stay friends, which I wasn't sure would work, but he was very dear to me, so I said yes. We continued talking as we always had, and he bemoaned the fact that he needed to talk about his breakup. but couldn't talk to me. So when Dragon asked me if I minded if he talked to her, I said no, go ahead; it'll be nice for him. So he'd call me, we'd talk, then he'd call her and they'd talk.

Dragon and I have been close friends through all kinds of shit, her breakup with a common friend, my on and off friendship with OOF, and countless other things. She is fiercely loyal, as am I, and we don't believe in bullshitting each other. There's never an impulse to lie or prevaricate to protect; we agree that ignorance can be the most devastating thing. It's good to know in advance, to have time to prepare for something. Since BBot was going to be our friend, it made sense for her to be there for him, because she understood me, and could give him some solace maybe by explaining to him the parts of me that he never really understood.

The Bride, to whom I will always faithfully listen in the future, told me I was an idiot.

When I came back from the Us in April, I found that BBot wouldn't talk to me straight. It was the verbal equivalent of staring at your feet and scuffing your toe. I asked him point blank: Do you want me to to leave yo alone and stop calling? He said: I'm here if you need me. I said: That doesn't answer my questions; do you want me to step away and give you space? again, he gave me a typical evasive answer: If you want to talk to me I'm always here for you. Irritated, I stopped calling him.

That's when he and Dragon were on the phone for hours every day. Periodically she'd say MinCat, BBot's so funny, look what he said. They'd have little mad posting cycles on Facebook. It really began to get to me. So I asked her to stop.I said look, I'm not comfortable with this. She said: I asked you if it was okay. I said: Yes, I know I said it was okay in the beginning, but I really did think we'd all be friends. He changed the rules of the deal. She said: I'm sorry, but now we've become so close, and I need him as much as he needs me. So I said, okay, fine, just keep it out of my face. Which she did.

But I knew, at that point, that the paradigm, as it were, had shifted. She was not my friend, she was his. Anyway, sparing you the boring details, there were several times when she didn't tell me things because he'd made her promise she'd never tell me anything about him. I found myself unable to trust her or confide in her. She stopped spending time in the house--always with a perfectly good reason.

This contributed hugely to my increasing sense of isolation and loneliness. I was crying all the time, for no reason. I blamed the hormones, which probably did have a large role to play. I went and met my mum in June, and cried in the train when I left, because I couldn't bear the thought of leaving what I felt was the only place where I really did know I came first. I began to wonder if I'd made a terrible mistake in breaking up with BBot, because I missed him so much, and I'd never let myself accept it, or express it. I'd been making space for his hurt, and ignoring mine, punishing myself for hurting him or something ridiculous like that. I never discussed it with our common friends, whether mine or his first, because it would put them in a bad position. They had also developed the annoying habit of persuading me to get back together with him, saying that he was a great guy, and why did I have to be so unyielding, and the like. Finally one day I said, and what, am I a horrible person? Didn't he screw this up a bit even? Did I deserve to never be first, and always be tense and fighting? That shut them up, but it didn't make me feel better.

Last week, the grapevine gave me the news, that later turned out to be incorrect, that he was seeing someone, in Delhi! Hadn't Dragon told me? I as in shock for a while, not because I didn't think he could date other people, but because this person, who'd been my friend for eight years, did nothing to protect me from this shock. When I asked her about it, adding, what if it had been true, sh said there was no way she'd ever even hint to me; it was non-negotiable to their friendship for her to never say a thing to me. I asked her if that wasn't a bit unfair, since we'd been friends so long surely she owed me at least an attempt at protection? No, she said, that's the way it's set up--no talking of me to him or him to me. So I said, okay, that's how you want it to be, so be it.

To me, the fact that someone, who's been the kind of friend we've been for as long as we have, could claim that she was not picking sides, when she befriended my ex AFTER we broke up, means simply that she is, in fact, picking a side. His. There's no question of being in the middle. You're my friend, you're on my side. Yes you can pop across occasionally, but you are on my side. By standing in the middle, you're standing on his side.

Though the thing is, with Dragon, I've been realizing, she's on one side--hers. But not in as evil a way as that statement might imply.

Anyway, it was at that point I realized that what I'd been trying to deny was true--she was not a good friend to me anymore. she isn't in my corner. She'll say caressing things and offer to get up and fetch me water, but she won't actually be there for the things I really need her to be there for anymore. And I really needed to write about it. I am, however, not suing for a divorce, and would be happy to stay friends casually. (Though part of me wants to throw a giant tantrum and tell her to get the fuck out of my life. However, and you'll get another self-indulgent post about that soon enough, I have this annoying need to not make a fuss and let's all just get along shall we?) This meant, simply, that while I don't care if BBot reads that I think he's a puerile, self-centred, self-indulgent moron, I can't really post this kind of stuff. Even though Dragon barely reads the blog, and doesn't comment because she wouldn't want BBot to think she's taking sides, she might take it into her head to pop by. And so we have damelo part 2. literally.

I must say, BBot clearly won this breakup: got all the sympathy, even from me, didn't need to examine himself or his behaviour critically at ALL, and took my best friend with him, when he barely knew her at the time we broke up!

Life lessons

Funnily enough, I just wrote a post of the same title, on the food blog, in a different vein. However, let us move on to things I have learnt this past week.

1. Do not share your blog with your boyfriend, no matter HOW much you believe it is for ever or that even if it is not forever, he can be an adult. He can't. He won't.
2. At the risk of sounding whiny and self-righteous, do not make it a habit to make life easier for other people. Seriously, don't. It will backfire.
3. Try not to rationalize other people's behaviour to suit your image of who they are to you. Remember to keep it in the back of your head that you've seen them do something you wouldn't want done to you, so that, when it starts happening to you, you can recognize it.

Ta-DA! And we're doe for today. More to follow. Expect invective and vitriol my friends. But possibly also humour and Ideas. Of which I had two in the shower but I can't remember any. Sigh. Maybe #4 should be: Always write things down when they occur to you.

Dormant

Events have transpired, partially involving the ex who, despite wanting to cut me out of my life, still reads this. At this point in my life, *I* really want to cut *him* out of my life, so the blog is going under. Not much loss eh, not like I'm writing or anything. Still, I don't feel safe here, and haven't for a while, which might be the reason I haven't been writing.

Drop me a line if you want to know when I start writing somewhere else =)