Blameworthy

Last week, I went back to a book I bought in 2002 titled, Relational Autonomy. I opened it up to the chapter called, "Feeling Crazy: Self-Worth and the Social Character of Responsibility." In this chapter Paul Benson wrote:

"...that it is not reasonable to demand that someone participate in a certain type of relationship, when she has been made to feel so deeply that she is not worthy to engage in that relationship."

The chapter has been particularly comforting to me for two reasons. One, it fills my head with words that form thoughts which eventually lead to actions like writing here. This is comforting to me because through this process, I feel like I am heading toward greater understanding of a particular conflict I have relating to my personal responsibility. The second reason is the statement above tells me that this search for my relational self is not just pure vanity but has real implications for my ability to effect change in my life and otherwise. People spend a lot of time theorizing ways to explain "crazy" behavior in women. My crazy behavior will remain, for now, unspecified. My point is, that responsibility in our relationships as concept is important to a host of others besides me.

Recently, I had to end my participation in a romantic relationship (in fact the one that brought me to this corner in the first place) for what I believe is the final time. So, while I explained my position, I was conflicted because I so keenly aware that I had not been holding myself responsible as I held him responsible for the conditions under which we both engaged in our weird relationship. I have often said to my friends that his position of "not wanting to be a boyfriend" twisted me into knots emotionally. This position I took is a conflict for me because I willingly engaged in the emotional contortions, he didn't make me do anything. I experienced self-doubt, anxiety, and a lot of other negative emotions throughout the last seven months. I had hoped that he would change, and was bound by the belief that he held me above all others, as I held him above all others. When I could see that he would never share this romantic notion with me, I had to make a choice. I could let go of my belief that a romantic relationship is characterized by a principle idea of uniquely specialty. That your romantic interest cannot be reproduced or transferred to another and is de facto more important than all other non-romantic relationships. My other option was to relinquish my belief that he is that uniquely special one for me. I chose my romantic notions.

He spoke about the concept of relational self-worth, as highlighted above, in reference to my conceptualization and realization of romantic relationships in the first month we knew each other. He could see this conflict that I have with my romantic notions of true love and how I actually act in relationships like the moles on my face. Well, now I too am connecting the dots here. I deserve a lot more than he was willing to give me. I cannot blame him for my engagement in this weird relationship we shared over the last several months. So, I take back what I said! but I do not change my decision.

I am a spy

I told him that I did not know who I am. We were lying naked, side by side, in the dark. His head moved and he hummed low then said, "You're one of the most self-reflective people I have ever met. It's quite impressive, really." And he said that not knowing myself could be a good thing. An opportunity.

At three in the morning, while lying on his futon in the middle of his studio, he read this to me:

In reality, the decomposition of all social forms is a blessing. It is for us the ideal condition for a wild, massive experimentation with new arrangements, new fidelities. The famous “parental resignation” has imposed on us a confrontation with the world that demands a precocious lucidity, and foreshadows lovely revolts to come. In the death of the couple, we see the birth of troubling forms of collective affectivity, now that sex is all used up and masculinity and femininity parade around in such moth-eaten clothes, now that three decades of non-stop pornographic innovation have exhausted all the allure of transgression and liberation. We count on making that which is unconditional in relationships the armor of a political solidarity as impenetrable to state interference as a gypsy camp. There is no reason that the interminable subsidies that numerous relatives are compelled to offload onto their proletarianized progeny can’t become a form of patronage in favor of social subversion. “Becoming autonomous,” could just as easily mean learning to fight in the street, to occupy empty houses, to cease working, to love each other madly, and to shoplift.

- The Coming Insurrection

A week or so later, we were also lying side-by-side but this time on my bed, he said to me, "You're a spy in the house of heterosexuality." I think he meant that I am not looking for a conventional heterosexual romantic relationship. And he wanted to know what his part was in my subterfuge. What was his use to my plan to live my life as a free woman, a gypsy?

Pillow talk is supposed to be light and easy, like talking about your favorite way to orgasm. I think that I was yearning for someone to hear me and take what I was thinking, feeling, saying and reflect it back to me. What better place to engage in such a physical and mental exercise, requiring both parties to be so present and so bare, than lying beside each other in the dark? Like a spy.