I have a feeling this is going to be highly unfocussed, because relationships - of all kinds - are generally complex things, and because the sum total of my experience to draw on is one very new relationship. (Hello sciatrix <33)
Discovering the concept, discovering that this was an option, that it was something I could have - it changed everything, in the same kind of way a lot of aces talk about in their experiences of first finding the ace community. It is the relationship I'd always wanted but never allowed myself to consider as a serious possibility. My plan for my life consisting of living with my parents until they passed on, and then - I didn't dare consider what came next. I never thought beyond that: how could I? I had and have plenty of friends, good friends, close friends, friendships that have been growing since I was six years old, friends who I loved, and who loved me, and I knew I'd always have them in my life.
But that didn't mean I'd have them in my life to the degree that I wanted or needed. Let me take the friendship I mentioned above, the one that's lasted 17 years now, as an example. We're very close. She's one of the few people I can talk to about almost anything. We see each other regularly, even if we don't have time - we make time. If she's upset and rings me to talk, I always put aside whatever I'm doing to talk to her. We consider each other like sisters. When she wants children, if she can't use her biological sister's eggs, she has a standing invitation to use mine.
She's my best friend and will always, I hope, be part of my life. But we were still only friends. Friends don't live together, not permanently. Friends who live together are roomates, not partners, and it's only ever temporary. You don't move to another city or another country to be with a friend. There's a level of importance and intimacy and love that you don't get with friendships - that you're supposed to get from your romantic relationships.
I didn't feel romantic feelings, only platonic ones. I considered faking romantic love - but that would be cruel to whoever it was I faked it for, and as damaging to me as faking sexual attraction. Friendship was insufficient and romance unavailable, and I really, really couldn't let myself think about what would happen when family stopped being an option.
And then I found other people talking about the relationships I wanted and couldn't let myself begin to consider, and suddenly the chasm in my future, that I knew I was moving constantly towards but couldn't let myself look at, had a bridge.
I can't put into words the experience of your future suddenly existing. A vague, tremulous future, uncertain and fragile, but a future, a future in which there might be something like what I wanted. It was an experience filled with incredible hope and also terrible fear and despair. Hope, because it existed, because I had options and possibilities and the chance for happiness: despair, because I was very aware of how weak and flickering that hope was, because to look at the bridge I had to look at the chasm and acknowledge that the bridge might not be there for me or might disintegrate the moment I stepped onto it.
Mostly these days I'm hopeful, but that doesn't mean the fear isn't still there.
And these words - they're part of the foundation of that bridge, part of the strength that holds it up. I need these words. And I really, really don't appreciate people telling me that the bridge doesn't exist, or the chasm doesn't exist, or that I'm using the wrong bridge.
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Date: 2011-08-24 03:43 pm (UTC)Discovering the concept, discovering that this was an option, that it was something I could have - it changed everything, in the same kind of way a lot of aces talk about in their experiences of first finding the ace community. It is the relationship I'd always wanted but never allowed myself to consider as a serious possibility. My plan for my life consisting of living with my parents until they passed on, and then - I didn't dare consider what came next. I never thought beyond that: how could I? I had and have plenty of friends, good friends, close friends, friendships that have been growing since I was six years old, friends who I loved, and who loved me, and I knew I'd always have them in my life.
But that didn't mean I'd have them in my life to the degree that I wanted or needed. Let me take the friendship I mentioned above, the one that's lasted 17 years now, as an example. We're very close. She's one of the few people I can talk to about almost anything. We see each other regularly, even if we don't have time - we make time. If she's upset and rings me to talk, I always put aside whatever I'm doing to talk to her. We consider each other like sisters. When she wants children, if she can't use her biological sister's eggs, she has a standing invitation to use mine.
She's my best friend and will always, I hope, be part of my life. But we were still only friends. Friends don't live together, not permanently. Friends who live together are roomates, not partners, and it's only ever temporary. You don't move to another city or another country to be with a friend. There's a level of importance and intimacy and love that you don't get with friendships - that you're supposed to get from your romantic relationships.
I didn't feel romantic feelings, only platonic ones. I considered faking romantic love - but that would be cruel to whoever it was I faked it for, and as damaging to me as faking sexual attraction. Friendship was insufficient and romance unavailable, and I really, really couldn't let myself think about what would happen when family stopped being an option.
And then I found other people talking about the relationships I wanted and couldn't let myself begin to consider, and suddenly the chasm in my future, that I knew I was moving constantly towards but couldn't let myself look at, had a bridge.
I can't put into words the experience of your future suddenly existing. A vague, tremulous future, uncertain and fragile, but a future, a future in which there might be something like what I wanted. It was an experience filled with incredible hope and also terrible fear and despair. Hope, because it existed, because I had options and possibilities and the chance for happiness: despair, because I was very aware of how weak and flickering that hope was, because to look at the bridge I had to look at the chasm and acknowledge that the bridge might not be there for me or might disintegrate the moment I stepped onto it.
Mostly these days I'm hopeful, but that doesn't mean the fear isn't still there.
And these words - they're part of the foundation of that bridge, part of the strength that holds it up. I need these words. And I really, really don't appreciate people telling me that the bridge doesn't exist, or the chasm doesn't exist, or that I'm using the wrong bridge.