When my relationship of near eleven years fragmented (ostensibly) because I was chronically ill, rapidly moving on disabled, I was incredibly angry. So incredibly angry. Incandescent, really.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I didn\u2019t know it at the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t realize it until fairly recently, until all that suppressed rage came spilling forth from somewhere I never knew existed.
I didn\u2019t see it, because I\u2019d been told by society that it made sense to be abandoned for chronic illness and disability.
I\u2019d been told, by everyone I knew and by the general world, that it didn\u2019t make sense for someone to put down their entire life to be with me, that it was asking too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And because I\u2019d been told, my entire life, as a person seen and considered to be a little girl, that love was sacrifice.
My sacrifice.
Love was compromise.
My compromises.
Nothing was perfect; it was up to us to make it as near perfect as possible, through the giving of ourselves.
Us? What us? Women-us.
Life was suffering, was universal, so it remained up to us to make the best of it.
Again, women-us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In a sense, my leaving without complaint, without shrieking about past promises broken and past vows tossed into the trash, was the last proof of love I could offer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And even then I was in the wrong.
Wrong for \u201cgiving up\u201d when reality was, I couldn\u2019t do it anymore.
Couldn\u2019t do all that being in those relationships entailed.
Couldn\u2019t take care of myself anymore, much less another person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I look back and I am agog.
Excuse me?
Hello?
Or rather.
What the hell?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few years past, some aunties were talking to me about marriage.
Why I wasn\u2019t searching.
Why I wasn\u2019t anxious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I looked at them, genuinely baffled, and said: \u201cUm, literally all the marriages I\u2019ve seen (including theirs) are terrible affairs and I have negative interest in getting into that kind of mess.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Plus, I simply wasn\u2019t up to any of it anymore.
Wasn\u2019t up to bearing a child.
Wasn\u2019t up to taking care of a household.
Wasn\u2019t up to working.
Wasn\u2019t up to emotional labor in the form of playing nice with in-laws who might or might not be resentful of what I would or wouldn\u2019t do for their offspring.
Wasn\u2019t up for sex.
Wasn\u2019t up for putting forth effort to be conventionally pretty.
It was just nopes all the way down.
I just didn\u2019t have the spoons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And instead of being reasonable, loving, supportive aunties, their collective response was:
This is just how life is. This is just what\u2019s expected. Yeah, most men suck, and as a chronically ill, disabled person, your marriage is likely to end up tragic, but that\u2019s just what you\u2019re expected to do and you should do it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And that was when my brain stumbled hard enough the rage broke through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Note that these aunties weren\u2019t of the \u201cmarry someone rich, live off your husband\u201d crowd.
As, according to them, men weren\u2019t reliable long term and there was no safety for a woman except what she made for herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2026pardon the rough language, but, what the actual flying fuckity fucking fuck?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So what would the point be?
Was it just to get me out of my parents\u2019 house, so I wasn\u2019t their problem anymore?
In which case, it really was up to my parents to tell me they didn\u2019t want to keep me alive any longer and I should find a convenient place to die, not their place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t get it at the time, but generally my current belief is that too many people just don\u2019t want to see anyone free and happy.
Too many people want the next generation to suffer as they did, hopefully suffer harder.
Seeing someone break free, saying \u201coh, that is utterly ridiculous, why would any reasoning person choose such a thing\u201d makes them think that choice invalidates their choices.
Makes them think that condemnation of a certain situation is a judgment on them and their choices within a situation that probably isn\u2019t really the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the reality is, it\u2019s not about them.
My aunties thought they needed to get married to escape their abusive home of origin.
I make no judgment on the Truth of that, but my generation has less need to use marriage to escape and slightly more understanding if they move out from a stifling household.
Slightly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But also.
Funny, isn\u2019t it, that cis boys don\u2019t get told as much that love is sacrifice.
They don\u2019t get told to compromise, to bend and bend and then twist until they are the correct shape to support a marriage\u2019s continued existence.
They don\u2019t have endless, countless reminders that life isn\u2019t perfect as-is, so they must needs carve out parts of themselves to fill in the gaps.
Perhaps you know all this already.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But did you know, that with this sort of socialization in place, cis het men who didn\u2019t receive the support they wanted as infants and children sometimes turn to their romantic partner for the kind of mothering they desire deep down?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And did you know, contrary to what a lot of shitty media claims, that mothering a man doesn\u2019t make them love you more? Or at all?
Most days, it doesn\u2019t even get their gratitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Instead, because most men don\u2019t want to fuck their mothers and most women don\u2019t want to fuck their sons\u2026 so suddenly there\u2019s probably some sexual frustration. Possibly a lot.
And guess who gets blamed for that? Especially if the woman picks up on the dynamic earlier, and subconsciously just “doesn’t feel like it” anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eventually, as the \u201cson\u201d grows up and got what they need, then what often happens is they go out and find an actual wife rather than another surrogate mother.
Leaving the starter wife baffled and devastated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She\u2019s lost years, possibly decades of her life in an ageist society that hates older women.
She\u2019s lost the person she loved, or thought she loved.
Possibly her entire social circle is shattered, because all of her friends are his friends and people take sides and everyone hates a nag.
Maybe she\u2019s left her career on hiatus or dialed back the intensity because playing mother to a man is exhausting, thankless, and incredibly stressful because of the bonus gift of resentment for \u201cyou\u2019re not my mother\u201d.
Never mind that he made her become his surrogate mother.
Maybe, just maybe, she has stress related autoimmune disorders, possibly cancer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t know this, because that\u2019s not the convenient story for the patriarchy to tell.
They say, you get what you put forth into the world.
They never tell you that sometimes investments cost you the earth.
They say, don\u2019t be selfish.
They never let on that a chronic inability to say no might not only result in depression, but more serious diseases, like cancer.
They say, get married because you need someone for companionship.
They never mention how the divorce rate for women with cancer is around 20% versus 2.9% for men.
Of course, not all cis het men.
Not even all emotionally damaged and traumatized cis het men.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s not even really reserved for men at all.
Part of the reason I\u2019m not looking for a romantic partner is because I suspect I have daddy issues that I don\u2019t need to inflict on an unsuspecting innocent person.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But, how can you tell? What are the signs that you are probably playing unwitting and unwilling parent to the person you think you\u2019re in a romantic relationship with?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What I\u2019ve observed, between my experience, my friends\u2019 experience, and the terrible marriages of my entire extended family:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When, if you don\u2019t do it, it doesn\u2019t get done.
This includes \u201cdeliberate or malicious incompetence\u201d. Example is when, somehow, an otherwise perfectly capable person just cannot manage to learn how to load the dishwasher.
It also includes if you have to manage resentment and anger from the other person after the thing is done.
If the thing is done messily and then you have to praise and coax the other person\u2026welp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When, suddenly everything is your responsibility.
They don\u2019t like to go shopping and you don\u2019t mind, so that\u2019s your chore now.
They forget to do laundry regularly, so you pick up the slack.
They never learn how to drive, for reasons, so that\u2019s all on you.
They don\u2019t know how to deal with simple repairs or fixes, so for some reason you end up being the person to look up user manuals online.
\u2026to the point where, for some reason, when your neighbor lights a fire in the driveway behind your parked cars, you\u2019re the person who has to insist on calling the fire department.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When you always have to be the well-balanced, clear-headed partner.
When you don\u2019t get to be upset or stressed because it upsets them and suddenly you gotta soothe and comfort them instead.
When they get to be rude and belligerent and you have to place peacemaker and be the one making apologies to other people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When they present themselves as \u201cadorably incompetent across multiple aspects of life\u201d.
Oh my god, run from that.
Even if they\u2019re another modern day Einstein, then they should take those smarts, create something and patent it and hire a housekeeper instead of expecting their partner to manage their life for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There is no such thing as \u201cadorably incapable of taking care of the self\u201d.
There is, eventually, only conflict about why won\u2019t they go to the doctor even though they\u2019ve been coughing for weeks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arguments about why they didn\u2019t eat the food you\u2019ve cooked for them because they don\u2019t know how to cook and they\u2019ve chosen to eat take-out for the months you were away and now all the food is freezer-burned. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Or screaming fights after you\u2019ve made the food and you were hoping they\u2019d reheat it so you could both have food after you get off work and instead they\u2019ve been doing Something Else More Important all day. Something Else More Important like talking to their online friend or gaming or whatever that\u2019s more vital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When somehow you\u2019re responsible for if they\u2019re bored or not, if they\u2019re self-actualizing or not.
When, for some reason, they can\u2019t manage to figure out money.
Until, of course, they can, usually right before they inform you of your impending divorce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There are other things, of course.
In the earlier stages (years?) of mothering there\u2019s often the \u201cbarnacle\u201d stage where they want to tag along to everything. Never mind if your friend doesn\u2019t want to be a third wheel.
This often has the side effect of ruining friendships, which is an added bonus for them.
In the latter stages (when they\u2019ve a bit more self-confidence and are starting the \u201crebellion phase\u201d) that\u2019s often reversed and there\u2019s no getting them to do anything with you. Not chores, not anything fun, nothing. They\u2019d rather be on their phone on the couch rather than interact.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course, what\u2019s most telling is when they start complaining that you nag worse than their mother. Say \u201cno\u201d. <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Edit notes: Best beloved (Thene) pointed out a problematic sentence. Original: “Funny, isn\u2019t it, that beings assigned men at birth don\u2019t get told as much that love is sacrifice.”<\/em> When my relationship of near eleven years fragmented (ostensibly) because I was chronically ill, rapidly moving on disabled, I was incredibly angry. So incredibly angry. Incandescent, really. But I didn\u2019t know it at the time. I didn\u2019t realize it until fairly recently, until all that suppressed rage came spilling forth from somewhere I never knew… Continue reading
shrug<\/em>
I mean, once that\u2019s happening, it\u2019s past time to bail.
Too bad by that point it\u2019s usually been years.
Good news is, it\u2019s never too late.
Even if they walked away first, it\u2019s not too late.
Consider it a gift, that they took out the trash for you.
There is always hope if you\u2019re alive.
There\u2019s always salvation in \u201cno\u201d.
You can always turn around and choose yourself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Say \u201cno\u201d every single day.
Listen to that stifled voice within yourself.
Dance in the kitchen if you want to.
Leave the dishes for tomorrow if you have to.
Have pizza for three days straight if that is what\u2019s called for.
Say \u201cno\u201d, so your body doesn\u2019t have to say no for you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Corrected because I didn’t mean to say that about trans women. Apologies!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"