I've been a bad Phoenix of late. Very bad. I haven't posted anything in bloody ages; I've been too busy with work and I find it quite hard editing this blog on my iPhone. I've been writing every day, o and from London on the commute, but not got round to posting my musings.
I've also slipped a few times. I have been playing with myself a bit. I could use the excuse that it helps me get to sleep, which is the truth, but it's naughty when considering the objective of this exercise. I was supposed to be teaching myself how to live without any sexual / romantic / intimate contact at all, but maybe that is more difficult than I imagined. At the very least, I didn't realise how much I used sex as a de-stressor. But is that such a bad thing?
So the next few posts are of the last month and my thoughts. Reading them back as I post them up here, I am quite surprised by how up and down they are. I suppose that is natural. After a breakup your feelings for your ex invariably fluctuate. If any of these posts may strike you, dear reader, as bitter and self-indulgent, please remember they are not. I am not bitter. I'm just a few months on from what was esentially a divorce. And I am scared to love again. But then an advantage to that is, I have my life back and I am no longer someone's middle aged frumpy housewife.
Showing posts with label self-realisation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-realisation. Show all posts
Thursday, 1 December 2011
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
Ageing ungracefully
Looking around the train carriage this morning, I am struck by the realisation that people inevitably get uglier as they get older.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, relationships are not based on looks, bla bla bla. But if physical intimacy is a key to sustaining a relationship how are you supposed to get aroused by the man who looks like the father in law you met 30 years ago and himself now resembles the man in the photograph?
After a while in a relationship sex can be a real effort. So how do you do it when you factor in a ridiculous commute, pressures at work and all the other demands which are an unfortunate consequence of adulthood?
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, relationships are not based on looks, bla bla bla. But if physical intimacy is a key to sustaining a relationship how are you supposed to get aroused by the man who looks like the father in law you met 30 years ago and himself now resembles the man in the photograph?
After a while in a relationship sex can be a real effort. So how do you do it when you factor in a ridiculous commute, pressures at work and all the other demands which are an unfortunate consequence of adulthood?
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Fool for you? No thanks, I'm full
I'm no longer willing to be a fool for love. So why would I date one?
I was asked today by a friend if I felt I was missing out. My answer was an honest 'no'. I really don't. "But what if you miss out on that someone special?" She pressed. My reply was that I just don't have the inclination to be involved right now.
"But he could pass you by!" She seemed really concerned about this possibility. And so I said that I couldn't be bothered to spend all that time sorting the wheat from the chaff. Or in this case, chavs. "So you could have fun dating a whole bunch of unspecial guys. It can be a good way to spend your time".
I did give this some thought. Granted, dating can be fun. But as I said to her, "What's the point in spending all that time geting dressed up, making myself look pretty and allowing myself to become giddy with anticipation, only to try not to fall asleep or not staring at a really unattractive feature?" "But I'm sure we could find someone you'd -" I cut her off. No way am I going on a blind date. I've had enough bad dates where hey have at least been my choosing and I'd had a hint of interest in them. So why on earth would I subject myself to the torture of a blind date? Not only is it awkward and uncomfortable, but if you're having a crappy time how do you get away without being bloody obvious? "Shall we see the dessert menu? How about the Fool for you?" "No thanks, I'm full".
Not to mention how embarassing it would be to see them out again socially. And on the off chance it did work, Cupid (AKA your matchmaking friend) would always be in the middle - perfect for any arguments and disagreements. Your relationship essentially becomes a three-way, and not in a good way. Plus if said relationship were to not work out, the difficulties of the split would be complicated by the disappointment of Cupid. And then who does Cupid stay friends with?
I think what my lovely kind friend was thinking of was the chance of meeting a guy on the street, or the train, and him being the one. I do believe in fate and things happening for a reason. But I'm also realistic enough to know that there is a whopping distinction between movies and real life, and I know most men are not confident enough to approach a woman on the train. Commuters generally do not speak, especially in London. And the truth is, I am not so attractive that I am showered with date offers. Last guy was my ex. Maybe I'm not ugly, but I'm not someone you'd look twice at. So I'd rather abandon unnecessary hope and dreams and focus on what is important to me, and enjoy life instead of throwing "my life away on a dream that won't come true", as Rizzo so famously sang in Grease. Girlfriend got a point.
The fact that I'm not interested in dating right now means i am probably not giving out signals that I am available. And I'm honestly quite content like that.
I was asked today by a friend if I felt I was missing out. My answer was an honest 'no'. I really don't. "But what if you miss out on that someone special?" She pressed. My reply was that I just don't have the inclination to be involved right now.
"But he could pass you by!" She seemed really concerned about this possibility. And so I said that I couldn't be bothered to spend all that time sorting the wheat from the chaff. Or in this case, chavs. "So you could have fun dating a whole bunch of unspecial guys. It can be a good way to spend your time".
I did give this some thought. Granted, dating can be fun. But as I said to her, "What's the point in spending all that time geting dressed up, making myself look pretty and allowing myself to become giddy with anticipation, only to try not to fall asleep or not staring at a really unattractive feature?" "But I'm sure we could find someone you'd -" I cut her off. No way am I going on a blind date. I've had enough bad dates where hey have at least been my choosing and I'd had a hint of interest in them. So why on earth would I subject myself to the torture of a blind date? Not only is it awkward and uncomfortable, but if you're having a crappy time how do you get away without being bloody obvious? "Shall we see the dessert menu? How about the Fool for you?" "No thanks, I'm full".
Not to mention how embarassing it would be to see them out again socially. And on the off chance it did work, Cupid (AKA your matchmaking friend) would always be in the middle - perfect for any arguments and disagreements. Your relationship essentially becomes a three-way, and not in a good way. Plus if said relationship were to not work out, the difficulties of the split would be complicated by the disappointment of Cupid. And then who does Cupid stay friends with?
I think what my lovely kind friend was thinking of was the chance of meeting a guy on the street, or the train, and him being the one. I do believe in fate and things happening for a reason. But I'm also realistic enough to know that there is a whopping distinction between movies and real life, and I know most men are not confident enough to approach a woman on the train. Commuters generally do not speak, especially in London. And the truth is, I am not so attractive that I am showered with date offers. Last guy was my ex. Maybe I'm not ugly, but I'm not someone you'd look twice at. So I'd rather abandon unnecessary hope and dreams and focus on what is important to me, and enjoy life instead of throwing "my life away on a dream that won't come true", as Rizzo so famously sang in Grease. Girlfriend got a point.
The fact that I'm not interested in dating right now means i am probably not giving out signals that I am available. And I'm honestly quite content like that.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Packaging
Sitting in Starbucks (no judgement please, the sofas are comfy and in the town I am currently temporarily inhabiting there's not a lot of choice for decent coffee). I've just looked around and realised how much packaging they use on their products. A group of 3 girls are drinking coffee and eating sandwiches (I'd kill for a cheese and marmite panini right now, but I can afford neither the money nor the carbs). The rubbish from their purchases is almost covering the table. I'm rather shocked.
No doubt some lovely shiny eco-conscious Starbucks spokeswoman would tell me it's all recyclable, but it does seem excessive. Has the 'War on Germs' (yes I use that expression disparagingly and sarcastically) and PC Health and Safety concerns overtaken the safety of our natural resources? It's all very well preventing people getting sick, but what happens when there are no more trees for said humans to breathe?
I digress - but what's new there. The reason for including this observation is to explain what got me thinking about packaging. Or in this case, the crap / facade / defensive mechanisms all humans hide behind. And also the way we present ourselves - clothes, hair, body - to make the inside seem more attractive.
My weakness is eyes. I'm a real sucker for them. I go nuts for them. A guy can be ugly as hell, but if he has good eyes...... And intellect. I need to be mentally stimulated and made to think about my opinions and beliefs.
I normally find it easy to talk to guys. I have male friends, a reasonably male sense of humour and I like hanging out with guys. Sometimes they are just that bit easier to take than women. Not always though; sometimes I need oestrogen. And some guys can be bitchier and more "typically female" than women. Given the fact that people are real, unique and complicated, I don't ascribe to gender stereotypes. But in general, I do enjoy spending time with men.
Until I like them - and then the whole field changes. I get tongue-tied, nervous and shy, and 'poof!' goes my confident exterior. I find myself wondering what their intentions are, what kind of person they are, what they're like in bed. I try not to show how I feel, which apparently contradicts all female flirting advice and effectively erects a barrier. Whilst simultaneously ensuring the lack of erection of something else. But according to my beloved friends, I am incapable of subtlety and thus when I like a guy it us bloody obvious and the source of much hilarity.
The worst thing is when I start to like a guy I didn't like before, someone I considered a mate and thus was completely myself with; i.e. not trying to be my fabulous self instead of clumsy goofy Phoenix. Given that I actually did not start to like my ex until it hit me like a truck reversing into my stomach, i.e. when we started kissing one night, and I had actually been flirting with another guy for a while in front of him, this scenario causes a whole lot of problems. Plus, how do you act around them once you realise? Do you keep being yourself, as that is what he has obviously fallen for, or do you try to be the glamourous, fabulous woman you want him to see you as? And how do you go from mate to date? If he doesn't like you, can you ever get your friendship back on track once you have revealed your true feelings to him?
Maybe the idea of a relationship is to be able to be yourself and they will love you for all that you are, but how bloody likely is that? Given that we are all flawed, yet judgemental of others and seek perfection in partners, how can we ever be truly happy?
No doubt some lovely shiny eco-conscious Starbucks spokeswoman would tell me it's all recyclable, but it does seem excessive. Has the 'War on Germs' (yes I use that expression disparagingly and sarcastically) and PC Health and Safety concerns overtaken the safety of our natural resources? It's all very well preventing people getting sick, but what happens when there are no more trees for said humans to breathe?
I digress - but what's new there. The reason for including this observation is to explain what got me thinking about packaging. Or in this case, the crap / facade / defensive mechanisms all humans hide behind. And also the way we present ourselves - clothes, hair, body - to make the inside seem more attractive.
My weakness is eyes. I'm a real sucker for them. I go nuts for them. A guy can be ugly as hell, but if he has good eyes...... And intellect. I need to be mentally stimulated and made to think about my opinions and beliefs.
I normally find it easy to talk to guys. I have male friends, a reasonably male sense of humour and I like hanging out with guys. Sometimes they are just that bit easier to take than women. Not always though; sometimes I need oestrogen. And some guys can be bitchier and more "typically female" than women. Given the fact that people are real, unique and complicated, I don't ascribe to gender stereotypes. But in general, I do enjoy spending time with men.
Until I like them - and then the whole field changes. I get tongue-tied, nervous and shy, and 'poof!' goes my confident exterior. I find myself wondering what their intentions are, what kind of person they are, what they're like in bed. I try not to show how I feel, which apparently contradicts all female flirting advice and effectively erects a barrier. Whilst simultaneously ensuring the lack of erection of something else. But according to my beloved friends, I am incapable of subtlety and thus when I like a guy it us bloody obvious and the source of much hilarity.
The worst thing is when I start to like a guy I didn't like before, someone I considered a mate and thus was completely myself with; i.e. not trying to be my fabulous self instead of clumsy goofy Phoenix. Given that I actually did not start to like my ex until it hit me like a truck reversing into my stomach, i.e. when we started kissing one night, and I had actually been flirting with another guy for a while in front of him, this scenario causes a whole lot of problems. Plus, how do you act around them once you realise? Do you keep being yourself, as that is what he has obviously fallen for, or do you try to be the glamourous, fabulous woman you want him to see you as? And how do you go from mate to date? If he doesn't like you, can you ever get your friendship back on track once you have revealed your true feelings to him?
Maybe the idea of a relationship is to be able to be yourself and they will love you for all that you are, but how bloody likely is that? Given that we are all flawed, yet judgemental of others and seek perfection in partners, how can we ever be truly happy?
Actions, intentions, and a whole lot more besides
They say that actions speak louder than words. But what about when actions speak louder than intentions?
We are judged on what we do, not what we think. So far, Kafka's thought police remains merely a nasty idea in this country. So only our actions can be known. Unless we decide to discuss what we are thinking - in which case we open ourselves up to criticism of our thought processes.
But we are seen by others through the lens of our behaviours. This has led me to realise that what I think and feel are secondary to what I do.
Everyone has thoughts, feelings and urges. This is human nature. Human nature has been debated by religious scholars for thousands of years with a lot of different theories and arguments in existence. The extent to which we can control or suppress our urges is a topic under increasingly intense scrutiny since the growth of globalisation - the more we learn about other cultures and beliefs, the more we question our own. That questioning can then lead to a renewed sense of faith in our beliefs, or a crisis in which we question what we know and what we believe to be true.
Religious devotees choose to reject the pleasures of the flesh in order to commune with their deity. Buddhist monks, Catholic nuns.... As I've said before I have the utmost respect for this practise, and of course I do not cast aspersions on their devotion.
But I do wonder - do they really never have any sexual thoughts? Is that even possible, to train the mind to focus only on religion? Can you talk yourself out of human instinct? Of course it's possible to never express any such urges. It's even possible to never say that you have these thoughts. But can you ever really lie to yourself and convince yourself? Do such sexual thoughts disappear over time? I know a lot of older people don't have sex. They may not even talk about it. But it doesn't mean they don't want it, or remember how good it was.
Maybe when shielded from the world and its pressures, living a life removed from what so many of us call reality, electing to be in a single-sex grouping and not leaving the confines of the monastery / convent, it is easier to circumnavigate sexual urges. But when out in the world, continuing to work and live and socialise with others who do have sex, it is a much harder thing to do to give up sex. Quite a few of the responses I have recieved to this piece of information have been shock, disbelief, and refusal to accept that I will maintain it. Maybe I will, maybe I won't, but I'm determined to give it a damn good try.
And if the Whirling Dervishes of Konya can see their dizziness as communion with God, when there is a physiological reason for their heightened emotional state, surely an orgasm constitutes a direct link to God, especially when so many people say "Oh my God" as they come?
Not trying to be controversial or disrespectful, I'm just thinking.
We are judged on what we do, not what we think. So far, Kafka's thought police remains merely a nasty idea in this country. So only our actions can be known. Unless we decide to discuss what we are thinking - in which case we open ourselves up to criticism of our thought processes.
But we are seen by others through the lens of our behaviours. This has led me to realise that what I think and feel are secondary to what I do.
Everyone has thoughts, feelings and urges. This is human nature. Human nature has been debated by religious scholars for thousands of years with a lot of different theories and arguments in existence. The extent to which we can control or suppress our urges is a topic under increasingly intense scrutiny since the growth of globalisation - the more we learn about other cultures and beliefs, the more we question our own. That questioning can then lead to a renewed sense of faith in our beliefs, or a crisis in which we question what we know and what we believe to be true.
Religious devotees choose to reject the pleasures of the flesh in order to commune with their deity. Buddhist monks, Catholic nuns.... As I've said before I have the utmost respect for this practise, and of course I do not cast aspersions on their devotion.
But I do wonder - do they really never have any sexual thoughts? Is that even possible, to train the mind to focus only on religion? Can you talk yourself out of human instinct? Of course it's possible to never express any such urges. It's even possible to never say that you have these thoughts. But can you ever really lie to yourself and convince yourself? Do such sexual thoughts disappear over time? I know a lot of older people don't have sex. They may not even talk about it. But it doesn't mean they don't want it, or remember how good it was.
Maybe when shielded from the world and its pressures, living a life removed from what so many of us call reality, electing to be in a single-sex grouping and not leaving the confines of the monastery / convent, it is easier to circumnavigate sexual urges. But when out in the world, continuing to work and live and socialise with others who do have sex, it is a much harder thing to do to give up sex. Quite a few of the responses I have recieved to this piece of information have been shock, disbelief, and refusal to accept that I will maintain it. Maybe I will, maybe I won't, but I'm determined to give it a damn good try.
And if the Whirling Dervishes of Konya can see their dizziness as communion with God, when there is a physiological reason for their heightened emotional state, surely an orgasm constitutes a direct link to God, especially when so many people say "Oh my God" as they come?
Not trying to be controversial or disrespectful, I'm just thinking.
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Cold turkey kicks in
Have been doing this for less than a week. Found myself flirting with a guy at work the other night on a work night out, and caught myself. He was very cute, but a total player. Rugby playing confident cheeky blonde boy, just my type. Excused myself and went to the bathroom for a stern self-bollocking.
Truth is, human interaction is extremely common, it happens all the time. And it feels so wrong to be denying the possibility of something when we are taught, from infanthood, that Mr Right is waiting, if only we make ourselves look a certain way and behave in a certain manner to attract and keep him. Having espoused the dangers of Disney and the sheer absurdity of depending on someone else to resolve your imperfections and 'complete' you, I have become aware that I, whilst not doing this to that degree, was essentially scared to be alone.
Being single is amazing.Its really nice to curl up with a book for hours in my sweatpants, or stay in on a Saturday night and have a bath with a glass of wine and a facemask. I don't have to justify my smoking to anyone, nor make sure I shave my legs. I don't have to put up with someone else's family or endure the football anymore. I can essentially do what I want, when I want to. I am free.
Except being single really sucks. I think when you're in a relationship you take it for granted that you have someone else's support, someone else's affection and time. Obviously here I am referring to healthy relationships, not abusive ones. I miss the intimacy. I miss the private jokes. I miss the sex. I miss being curled up in his arms on the sofa. I miss the hours spent staring in each other's eyes, looking into his soul and seeing myself there. I miss him spending 2 hours making me handmade pasta from scratch, and standng talking and kissing in the kitchen while he did it. I miss the mutual friends being round our home and all laughing together, nights round the kitchen table while we shared the cooking and entertaining. I miss going to restaurants together and keeping the waiter waiting because he keeps kissing me tenderly over the table. I miss missing him. I miss the anticipation of seeing him, knowing I am coming home to a giant hug and those magical arms which, when around you, make the whole world go away and everything seem right. I miss how beautiful the world seems when you walk in the park or along the beach. I miss the shared sunsets. I miss the plans we had which will never now be realised, the dreams we had of things we would see do and discover together. I ended it, but I still miss it all. Just not the crap stuff.
Wow. Writing that was pretty cathartic. I don't think I knew, until I just read that back to myself, how much I miss him. So this imposed singledom is the best idea for me. Celibacy as a definition usually refers to just sex, but in my case I am taking it to mean any kind of romantic involvement, so not even flirting with anyone. It has to be this way and I am going to prove to myself I can do this and I do not need a man.
Truth is, human interaction is extremely common, it happens all the time. And it feels so wrong to be denying the possibility of something when we are taught, from infanthood, that Mr Right is waiting, if only we make ourselves look a certain way and behave in a certain manner to attract and keep him. Having espoused the dangers of Disney and the sheer absurdity of depending on someone else to resolve your imperfections and 'complete' you, I have become aware that I, whilst not doing this to that degree, was essentially scared to be alone.
Being single is amazing.Its really nice to curl up with a book for hours in my sweatpants, or stay in on a Saturday night and have a bath with a glass of wine and a facemask. I don't have to justify my smoking to anyone, nor make sure I shave my legs. I don't have to put up with someone else's family or endure the football anymore. I can essentially do what I want, when I want to. I am free.
Except being single really sucks. I think when you're in a relationship you take it for granted that you have someone else's support, someone else's affection and time. Obviously here I am referring to healthy relationships, not abusive ones. I miss the intimacy. I miss the private jokes. I miss the sex. I miss being curled up in his arms on the sofa. I miss the hours spent staring in each other's eyes, looking into his soul and seeing myself there. I miss him spending 2 hours making me handmade pasta from scratch, and standng talking and kissing in the kitchen while he did it. I miss the mutual friends being round our home and all laughing together, nights round the kitchen table while we shared the cooking and entertaining. I miss going to restaurants together and keeping the waiter waiting because he keeps kissing me tenderly over the table. I miss missing him. I miss the anticipation of seeing him, knowing I am coming home to a giant hug and those magical arms which, when around you, make the whole world go away and everything seem right. I miss how beautiful the world seems when you walk in the park or along the beach. I miss the shared sunsets. I miss the plans we had which will never now be realised, the dreams we had of things we would see do and discover together. I ended it, but I still miss it all. Just not the crap stuff.
Wow. Writing that was pretty cathartic. I don't think I knew, until I just read that back to myself, how much I miss him. So this imposed singledom is the best idea for me. Celibacy as a definition usually refers to just sex, but in my case I am taking it to mean any kind of romantic involvement, so not even flirting with anyone. It has to be this way and I am going to prove to myself I can do this and I do not need a man.
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