Brushing a thumb against a speckled scarred bottom lip in just that certain way is only one method of contact. It takes a certain understanding to know exactly how to do this, or rather depending on the relationship it makes a difference what the real meaning is, rehearsed acts, versus sensuality (not that this can never be achieved momentarily without a deeper meaning, connection, history) but it is an anomaly. I seem to be the queen of atypical relationships however, and in the time that’s come right after college I realize how odd it is to be in a moment when my priorities themselves are shifting.
Looking out into the rising tide on a beautiful crisp Maine morning I see my fears laid out in each wave, layered but beautiful, crashing into the shore and nipping at my toes. Chills go shooting up my spine but it is a wonderful feeling to know that despite how I see my fears building up around me, identifying them is part of the process of remaining safe from them, from allowing myself to give into them, partially unconscious of the fact that this is what I’m doing. By identifying them I’m trying to choose them, hoping to understand them better. The stakes are higher now; I’m not worried about a higher GPA, a good meeting with my advisor about my thesis, what’s for lunch in commons. Though undoubtedly I will fall back into this schedule as I become a professional student, but now I’m worried about stability.
How is it that my life decisions (location, occupation, associates) form me into who I am, and who I will be in the years moving forward? Perhaps the stakes seem higher because there is arguably less flexibility after college, but that is typical as well, and can be chosen into or out of. I might just opt out of thinking that the person I am today, and form further into in the next few years has to necessarily be who I really am. Yet it can be, I think we can constantly work on ourselves, understand, evaluate, improve based on life decisions and experiences. We don’t have to be boxed in. But I do wonder now about little children’s footsteps in the sand around me as I walk the beach by myself, who I want to be, who I want my kids to be, if I’ll get a dog and walk the beach on chill Maine mornings with my family one day, if I’ll be able to, if I’ll want to. Will I even remember the feeling of looking out over glassy New England oceans as being moments where I feel so close to myself that I have to be alone and can’t share the whirring gears of my mind with anyone else?
I wonder what it means to be so internally grounded, constantly thinking about my situation and who I am, utterly concerned with self improvement in control and understanding of, of friendship with the ego. Deeply understanding my own motivations in a way that allows me to excel and not defeat myself, but also more fully understand others. Why a filmmaker? If what I strive to do is more deeply understand individuals, to continue to work in a deeply personal way with people to improve relationships between people, if I am most deeply concerned about living in and contributing to a self and healthy, growing, global community, why such a superficial industry? Can I truly expect to excel in this industry as an atypical figure? And how do I do all of these things being so typical? I am so typical in that I am concerned about this contact, about who will know that I think there’s nothing sexier than someone coming up behind you in the kitchen while you are washing dishes and nuzzling into your neck. I am so done with a lot of the dating and games, actually so done with it, that I feel silly saying I don’t want to date anymore, the next person I date seriously and put that extent of time and effort into I want to settle down with, have beautiful kids and a deep understanding, someone who will not think I’m crazy for writing in the way that I do all of my thoughts, someone who, like me, wants to talk deeply about theories of human behavior, the method to truly trusting an individual and not projecting, is this partner of mine supposed to be like me.
Will I ever understand how imperfect I really am, despite what I have achieved in terms of a resume, will I be able to stay very in touch with myself, but not withdraw so much from people that I cannot depend on anyone, will not allow myself to share responsibility because I feel somehow that it isn’t safe to rely on another person. I’m treading a fine line of self-reliance that threatens to drive me insane in the times of a crisis, because I don’t want to stress anyone else out with my problems, perceived issues, but I know that in the grand scheme of things they are not so much or so important that I should waste away anyone else emotions attempting to solve them, to fix me. But I do think that perhaps I have a problem letting other people really get in, though I know how to superficially let them feel like they are on the inside. I don’t want to feel that I’ve become political, somehow understand people in a way that leads me to being manipulative with them, to make them feel loved. I want a community that really does love me.
Going forward the contact is alarming. How do I seek the contact that I do want, while maintaining atypical relationships? Going forward is it more harm than help to be a “bro”? “One of the boys”. Is it silly and absurd to think that this membership can even be maintained in the years that come (or that it has been attained now), that any husband of mine would be okay with me walking up a lonely morning beach with guy friends to catch up on love and life. Is it truly that unfair for me to ask that of him, to want that? Should I stop seeking out guy friendships, because they cannot truly be maintained, are they the façade that everyone claims they are. I don’t want to believe that, but am I just stubborn and naïve? By being the bro do I hurt my chances at this true love, and what about playing dress up? I love to play dress up, it is my guilty pleasure but with so many identities I start to feel like one might be fake. If I go bulldogs sweatpants and wife beaters for three days and then want to go the skinniest of black jeans and highest of stilettos will I then be doing too much so much more? Does being a bro get me into trouble? Make me misunderstood and difficult to identify with, believe, relate to as a woman? How will Mr. Right feel if I can kick it with the guys too well? But if he is initially drawn in on a night where I indulge the feminine wiles is he turned off by curling up to my computer while the boys frat bronsons around poker. I need to be able to maintain all of my spaces of comfort and refuse to believe that I am really asking too much. But I’m not sure.
Moving forward, I am not sure. I am not sure what to maintain and what to redo, what will be better started anew and what has worked best for me thus far. It is terrifying to feel on the edge of a transition, where every choice is so significant, but in truth I don’t think the world will be so unforgiving of my choices. I just wonder when I will have to decide that I truly cannot have everything that I want and will begin to start choosing. It’s going to carnival, or nude modeling, or being an athlete, or being a hipster, or being a feminist, or being a painter. You cannot maintain this mescla of ethnicities and then introduce this to a husband, a family, a child, and expect them to accept this as truth and fact, even if it is you. Is there growing up that has to happen? So both parties have to compromise. Can I not keep building my identity as the years go on, do I have to stop shape shifting if I really do want what I say I am longing for, which is stability. That is a scarier question. Scarier still if I fear I do not know how to not shapeshift, and I’m leaving again across the world to start anew, will I lose the me that I feel I’ve worked so hard to create and maintain.
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