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...
Friday, July 29, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
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!
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!
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
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 =)
Drop me a line if you want to know when I start writing somewhere else =)
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Adoption
I have always strongly believe that, in this day of overpopulation and scarcity in India, there's no reason to have children. There really is no need to bring a new child into the world. Add to this the pain and trauma of pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding, the fact that there's enough crazy shit in my family to compete with most children put up for adoption, and the fact that I want five kids, and I simply don't see myself ever, you know, getting pregnant and giving birth.
This was a huge bone of contention with BBot. It seems to be a hue deal for most guys that I've met. Granted, women also say things like ohhh but don't you want to have your OWN baby, and be pregnant and feel that BOND, or, when you meet the *right* guy you'll want to have his babies, but men respond on this visceral level that seems immune to logic.
For example, there are women who are infertile, in a way that could possibly be cured with months of hormone treatment, but that treatment is a BITCH. She doesn't want to put herself and her body through that. But guys expect that she should. That's the amazing thing. There is a sense of entitlement to your partner incubating, birthing and feeding your baby,. whether she wants to or not. It's true that most women want to, which is fine, but some, like me, don't. Then what? A man can share all the caring for a baby (cept the breastfeeding, quite is quite traumatic), but he can't share the needing to throw up every second for months, or the peeing, and all the things that can go wrong. So where is the justice in demanding this?
Guys are so fixated on having their own genetic child - evolutionary imperative if you will - that once even told me he'd use a surrogate, but that of course violates the pint about not needing to bring more children into the world.
It helps that in my family, I have an adopted niece whose parents managed to have a son after they adopted her. She is the most captivating thing I have ever seen (barring her Ladyship of course), and her brother...is...um...not captivating. Clearly our genes aren't all that sparkly.
This is how I have felt for at least ten years, and heaven's the arguments I have had about it. People always say, have one adopt the second. It just won't work. One parent will favour one over the other, and while parents always do that, there will be a very real cause of pain here. Then, also, which first? Adopt or birth? Some people say that they can't imagine bonding with a child not their own; some day they can't imagine adopting a child and bonding with it without having gone through the whole pregnancy with it's attached misery - sort of like listen I survived that so I'm bloody well going to get past these first three months of madness!
The weird thing is that, lately, as her Ladyship grows and becomes more and more like me, or so Amma sez, I am seized by the curiosity - will my kid turn out like Scoo? Or will s/he be like her Ladyship? Will s/he be madly scientific like everyone in the family? Will s/he be artistic like Acrosticus and his brother? And so on. For the first time, I might actually be considering having my own child. Spooky.
This was a huge bone of contention with BBot. It seems to be a hue deal for most guys that I've met. Granted, women also say things like ohhh but don't you want to have your OWN baby, and be pregnant and feel that BOND, or, when you meet the *right* guy you'll want to have his babies, but men respond on this visceral level that seems immune to logic.
For example, there are women who are infertile, in a way that could possibly be cured with months of hormone treatment, but that treatment is a BITCH. She doesn't want to put herself and her body through that. But guys expect that she should. That's the amazing thing. There is a sense of entitlement to your partner incubating, birthing and feeding your baby,. whether she wants to or not. It's true that most women want to, which is fine, but some, like me, don't. Then what? A man can share all the caring for a baby (cept the breastfeeding, quite is quite traumatic), but he can't share the needing to throw up every second for months, or the peeing, and all the things that can go wrong. So where is the justice in demanding this?
Guys are so fixated on having their own genetic child - evolutionary imperative if you will - that once even told me he'd use a surrogate, but that of course violates the pint about not needing to bring more children into the world.
It helps that in my family, I have an adopted niece whose parents managed to have a son after they adopted her. She is the most captivating thing I have ever seen (barring her Ladyship of course), and her brother...is...um...not captivating. Clearly our genes aren't all that sparkly.
This is how I have felt for at least ten years, and heaven's the arguments I have had about it. People always say, have one adopt the second. It just won't work. One parent will favour one over the other, and while parents always do that, there will be a very real cause of pain here. Then, also, which first? Adopt or birth? Some people say that they can't imagine bonding with a child not their own; some day they can't imagine adopting a child and bonding with it without having gone through the whole pregnancy with it's attached misery - sort of like listen I survived that so I'm bloody well going to get past these first three months of madness!
The weird thing is that, lately, as her Ladyship grows and becomes more and more like me, or so Amma sez, I am seized by the curiosity - will my kid turn out like Scoo? Or will s/he be like her Ladyship? Will s/he be madly scientific like everyone in the family? Will s/he be artistic like Acrosticus and his brother? And so on. For the first time, I might actually be considering having my own child. Spooky.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Lunch Wisdom
Today, as Favourite Colleague and I were avidly discussing the dearth of decent relationships, we came to this conclusion*:
Average people are bad at relationships and thus must have many to practise, so they can be good at the final one. We, on the other hand, are so good at them that we hafta wait around for the final one.And who do all these people use to practise on? Us of course!
*Please to be taking in spirit in which it is intended: humour.
Average people are bad at relationships and thus must have many to practise, so they can be good at the final one. We, on the other hand, are so good at them that we hafta wait around for the final one.And who do all these people use to practise on? Us of course!
*Please to be taking in spirit in which it is intended: humour.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Keeps me awake at night
Today, while watching The Proposal (oh hush, it's hilarious, and Ryan Reynolds is SO HOT), it struck me. I finally realised why I'm so scared of being alone.
Nona, my grandmother, was diagnosed with breast cancer recently. She's 87, and has had a long and happy life, besides being chronically asthmatic, so the drama was minimal. She had surgery this morning. She's fine.
But what if she wasn't? Today, the Dragon is here; who will be here tomorrow? Amma? What if Amma is sick? Who is going to help me be strong when my world comes crashing down, if that person is always a parent?
Nona, my grandmother, was diagnosed with breast cancer recently. She's 87, and has had a long and happy life, besides being chronically asthmatic, so the drama was minimal. She had surgery this morning. She's fine.
But what if she wasn't? Today, the Dragon is here; who will be here tomorrow? Amma? What if Amma is sick? Who is going to help me be strong when my world comes crashing down, if that person is always a parent?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)