Sunday, December 12, 2010


I don't even know how to write this. I've started in twice now and twice I've cut the text and set it aside. it's too much, too big, too personal.

I cannot talk to you in this place without speaking of her, and when I speak of her it's all too easy to leave you with a wholly negative opinion of her. She reads this too and if I say the wrong thing, or even the right thing in an unclear enough way to be misunderstood, there will be another "event." Just telling you that might cause one. And yet I cannot speak with any insight into the situation, or even enjoy the therapeutic value of simply discussing it, without running that risk.

Moreover, some things which I wold like to say cannot be said in any way that really communicates the feelings behind them. for instance, I am happier than I have ever been in every way that matters save one - but in that one matter I am quite unhappy. There are no words I can use that do not seem self contradictory to express how that feels.

She ask me, some days ago, "do you not ever get lonely?" It's a fair question because I know that she does, and rightly so. what she longs for I cannot give her (she says "will not" but how can you convince one who's mind is made up that they don't understand?) but the answer is far from as simple as the question. I would love to be able to communicate to her, or to anyone, exactly how I feel about that subject, but I'm not sure it is possible to do. There are competing instincts, competing emotions, competing desires, competing obligations, all bound up in a massive tangled ball of contradiction. It is so very easy to leave someone - particularly one with a preconceived idea - with the wrong idea, simply because they will seize upon that which confirms their bias and ignore the rest.

I do NOT want to descend into a matter of competing blame - I am perfectly willing to accept the blame for everything. But if I begin to describe how I feel about things now, it is inevitable that some of it will come off as assigning blame. And no matter that I say "I'm not blaming you" the appearance will be there.

At it's most basic level, it's not possible to describe any of it. For instance: in one sense, I am the same person I ever was, only with the best qualities magnified, yet in another sense a great deal of what I was before was nothing more than a well rehearsed act, a mask that once taken off can never be convincingly worn again. Both these things are very true yet in many ways they would be seen as contradiction. This sort of thing applies to almost every level of my existence.

Take sexuality - several times I've been ask, both hostilely and genuinely, "so you like men now?" (although sometimes in more rude terms). You would think that's a simple answer but it's not. Far beyond the most basic level that too many people don't grasp that it's possible to answer "both" or "neither" to that question, the thing that confuses them most of all is "undecided." I don't understand it myself. I can tell you in deepest sincerity that I would be perfectly happy to remain in the current relationship, if it still had the sort of love trust and respect it had 3 years ago, for the rest of my life - including on a sexual level (full disclosure: she absolutely rejects the idea that there will ever be a female-on-female sexual relationship involving her).

On the other hand, at the tremendous risk of saying things which will be used against me, I am given to understand that sometimes one's orientation shifts (or resolves itself?) during transition and I can honestly say that I have a great deal of curiosity about the theoretical possibility that I might, should this relationship end, come to a place where nothing would sound better to me than having a boyfriend. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that deep down there's something intriguing about that thought.

But I can't honestly talk about such feelings because I'm either supposedly admitting I want out of this relationship, or that I'm gay, or both. No one seems to appreciate that both can be true. So, for the most part, I keep my mouth shut. And when I dare to speak honestly of any such thoughts, I do nothing but provide ammunition that will ultimately be used against me. I have no doubt that should the day ever come when we split, you will be told some of the most outrageous things, and some of them will be drawn from my being honest about that which I could just have easily kept to myself.

And there's another example - if I even acknowledge the possibility that we will split up, it's taken as if I'm counting the hours until I can get out, which is insane. EVERYthing about this transition would be easier if I had the love and support of the person who's been more important to me than all others combined for the last 20 years. It shouldn't be an indication that I am anxious to go simply because I recognize that she insists her position is non-negotiable. It is entirely possible - and is true - that I both very much would like to continue in some sort of respectful and loving relationship with her and, at the same time, recognize and prepare myself for the eventual implications of her stated position.

Do you see where I'm going with this? There is no outlet, no one who understands (don't say "therapist" unless you know how I'm gonna pay for it), no one who won't read their own assumptions into what I say and assume one part of the apparent contradiction is true and the other a lie.

In theology and philosophy, there's a concept called an "antinomy" - two truths which appear to contridict but are nevertheless both true. That's where I live right now. Every conversation is a minefield, every discourse potentialy dangeorus. It's why I've not posted in most of a month - there are plenty of things I'd like to speak of, few of them safe. I haven't said almost anything here that I set out to say. much of it was self-indulgent, much more woldn't have ended well.

Every subject which I mentioned in passing or illustration in this post, I would like to devote an entire entry to - every one of them I feel like I've said just enough to litter the screen with misconceptions and misunderstandings. Which, in itself, illustrates my point.

I hope?

1 comment:

  1. Tammy, I hope you find a way to speak to these issues. Sometimes it is worth writing even if you can't share it. I want to read in this blog that you (and Marie) are finding meaning in what you have, that you continue to move toward a healthy way to be who you are without creating ancillary pain. But I know the path can't always be discussed as publicly as you might like. You'll get there - hang tough, and trust in the power of time and prayer.