I’m finding someone quite fascinating. Thinking about interactions with them, both real and fancifully imagined, makes my gut clench and my heart flutter.
I am almost one of those tweens in movies that gush over some hot guy and try to act all cool in his presence… Except I’m not. I’m gushing, internally, and definitely externally if my panties are proof of anything, and the guy is decent but not hot. Well, that’s not true – he is incredibly hot to me. I find his mind and his feelings utterly enthralling, and his body is subsequently incredibly attractive to me.
Of course, the entire thing is moot because there isn’t anything I can do about my needs for now. Jesus, it’s been nearly 18 months since I last had sex. Maybe that’s tripping with my brain, and heart, now.
I watched Arrival about a month back now, and I’ve still not fully wrapped my head around it.
What a movie. The best of 2016, possibly? Admittedly, I’ve not read the short story it’s based on. I will soon, though. I am curious about what exactly people are saying they’re disappointed with in the movie version.
Onwards, to what has me completely befuddled: what would you do if you knew the story of your life? If you knew exactly how each decision would turn out, would you make it anyway?
I wonder this a lot. Even before Arrival, even when not in the deepest depths of depression, I’ve wondered what I’d do differently with my life if, at the point of taking the plunge, I knew it would go this way. I won’t spoil the movie here, but the argument it puts forth is, basically, you should live your life as if the answer to the question of “would you have done it differently” is a resounding ‘no’. Is that mindful, complete living, or is that incredibly selfish when knowing that momentary happiness will come at the cost of infinite sorrow to you and others later?
Even while writing this, I’m trying to puzzle it out. I am deeply unhappy in my marriage. This is a fact obvious to even the occasional/rare reader of this blog. Would I decide not to get married, if I could “have a do over”? I’m not sure about that. I am today a very different person from the, yes, child that happily got married 6 years back. I am significantly more unhappy, but I am also significantly more mature. I have faced many challenges over the years and learned what not to do in many situations, unlearned many things and generally become a more balanced adult. I still have a long way to go, I think, but I am (mostly) proud of the person that I am today. I don’t know if I would have become this person if my life hadn’t proceeded the way that it did, but the lessons I have learned over the years are precious nevertheless.
Go watch the movie if you haven’t already. It makes you ask many more questions than this one, but I thought this was the most pertinent to address here.
2016. Everyone’s calling it the worst year ever. How’s it been for me?
I have a job now. I like it. It likes me. I can’t find the words to express how much this means to me.
I nearly ended up separating from the husband. Some friends came over, we somehow “patched things up”, I think we both still regret doing that?
I haven’t had sex since 15 August 2015, when I told my husband I wasn’t getting anything out of it and he couldn’t be bothered to try.
I have been very busy, and he has been very busy, so we’ve been fairly happy until recently, when he got un-busy.
The misery and heavy heartedness seems to bring me back to the blog. Sorry about that.
I’ve been in the midst of another “cold shoulder” session from the husband since Thursday. Met some close “girlfriends” yesterday, one of whom is not on speaking terms with him after falling out earlier this year, and another who appears to just about tolerate him.
I am disgusted by how easy it is for me to pretend that everything is okay when we are not in the middle of an ongoing argument. Thinking about it now, it’s quite strange that I am able to instantly forget the heartbreak and the pain when he starts speaking normally to me again. I wonder if this is some sort of Pavlovian response I’ve trained myself into.
Argue > get frozen out > keep entreating him for conversation > break down the wall till he starts speaking to me (however harshly) > get yelled at lots > slow and begrudging conversation > back to status quo. This is the standard pattern of things. “Status quo” involves me being happy, not feeling any weight on my heart, cuddling up to him and being cute and generally lively. Everything gets forgiven and forgotten.
I’m writing this post to remind myself that I shouldn’t forget this. I shouldn’t go back to “normal” after this argument. I’ve made mistakes, I’ve done incorrect things, and he has the right to be angry at me, but he does not have the right to emotionally abuse me. I need to remember.
I’ve just been away. Life went on and I wasn’t really committed to posting regularly here.
Of course I’d turn to this outlet when something momentous happened, though, or started happening. Guess what? The spouse just told me to fuck off to a new life. Ouch.
It’s been coming for a long time. We just aren’t happy together other than when we turn a blind eye to the big stuff. We haven’t had sex since August when he said he didn’t want to till he was in a better place in life (this was when I complained he wasn’t going down on me). I know he was wrong to do that and I think he knows too? Or maybe not, I’m not really sure. It’s just been a big downhill party since then.
What did I get wrong in this relationship?
I was unemployed and didn’t share the financial burden. He offered me an alternative through the business he proposed and I worked on it for awhile over different periods of time but never kept up with it for more than a few months at a stretch.
I am not really much like him. I am slower, not as sharp a thinker, not physically or mentally exceptional in any way. I am also nowhere near as self-motivated, organised or disciplined as he is. I just am not in his league. I think he knows that.
I feel like I set a bad example in the beginning by being more subservient than I should have, but I’m not really sure I did. The biggest issue is that we’ve been together since I was 18 and we were each others’ first relationships and first everythings. So I didn’t have any experiences to learn from, and I also wasn’t a fully formed adult when I met him.
I’ve grown up with him now and he’s grown up as well, and unfortunately our adult selves just don’t “gel”. We like some things in common, enjoy similar things but at the core of it, when it comes to the real fundament of things, he and I come from different backgrounds and are just plain different people. We’re a square peg and a round hole. Two gears that didn’t quite fit, kept grating and sparking, and have eventually caught fire and burnt to a crisp. Ugh, I’m going to stop with that metaphor now.
What makes this time different from the previous times? Both of us realise that we’ve given it a few too many “another chances”. He is fully convinced it is all my fault and that my inability and disinterest in helping him with the business disqualifies me from being a good partner for him. I hate that idea but there is really nothing incorrect about it – he isn’t telling me I am inadequate, just that I am not right. I should accept that and just move on instead of trying to patch things up or trying to change myself to fit him – we’ve seen all these years that it doesn’t work and that it all comes back to this point again.
I am more numb than anything. I knew this moment was coming but was never really sure how I would experience it. Clearly I’m not fully experiencing it yet – perhaps I’m in shock. But that conveys an element of surprise that doesn’t have a place here. Our marriage has been dead a long, long time.
I don’t really feel like talking to someone but I just needed to get my thoughts out so here they are. I clearly have a problem with commitment, so I have no illusions that I’ll be back to regular posting here. In fact, if this is the sort of circumstance that inspires me to write here, perhaps I should be hoping that there are fewer of them. Ta for now.
Here’s something that I (and I’m sure many others) have struggled with all of my life – carving out my natural identity and maintaining it. It’s certainly good, sagely advice to “be yourself”, but what does that really mean? And how do you hold onto yourself when you are no longer just you but one part of a relationship?
Your identity is what gets left behind after your learning experience is long behind you and the details mostly forgotten. As kids and especially as teenagers, our identities are constantly in flux; we are learning, emulating, imitating and even eschewing. As adults in our twenties, we are expanding our horizons, falling victim to many traps and yet learning, learning all the way through it all. It’s usually only by our thirties that enough has happened and been distilled and forgotten to bring a more cohesive form to our personalities. We count ourselves lucky if, by this point, we haven’t managed to muck it up and are reasonably happy with how we have turned out. But how many of us are actually content with our identities today?
More and more of us in today’s fast-paced world suffer from a crippling fear of being left behind, or left out. This could manifest in different ways but the end result is always the same – fundamental changes in our behaviour and social responses that we perceive will help ease us into our many roles in life. Viewing our own lives is unavoidably a subjective experience for us and this inevitably influences our (conscious or unconscious) behavioural choices, not always to the best of results. Thus, when we spend nearly all of our time constantly adapting to stimuli, it is essential that we firmly draw a line between identity evolution and identity loss.
The first is a natural step forward – it will better the course of our life in some way (major or minor) and will make us the proverbial “better person” in the long run. This might be something as significant as learning to curb our tendency to speak bluntly and inadvertently hurt/anger others, or something as minor as trying to follow a sport in order to have something to make conversation with at parties. It might not be a pleasant lesson at first, but we eventually make our peace with it, especially as we see it working for us.
The second is the dangerous one – instead of bettering us, it slowly eats away at who we are comfortable being and replaces that with an alien mess that feeds into our insecurities and convinces us we will never be “good enough”. It is best observed in contrast with a positive behaviour – where you might on the one hand learn to be more considerate in your speech to others, instead you might force yourself into silence to avoid confrontation. You might choose to speak in a particular way to endear yourself to your audience at the expense of your personal comfort knowing you are doing the right thing, or you might do it only because you want to be accepted, in which case you will end up resenting said audience for presumably wanting it of you and yourself as well for “giving in”. In this case, when we see our changed behaviour “working” (in a very warped way) for us, we only tend to consciously or unconsciously castigate ourselves more. This might be in any situation – ingratiating yourself with new people at work, getting along with your partner of many years or a few hours, or changing your life around for a child.
It’s one of those slippery slopes where you don’t realise you’re in danger of it until you are already deeply entrenched. So what are some things you can do to help yourself out of your clusterfuck (because let’s be real – if you’re human, you’re nearly always in the midst of at least one mess)?
Learn to step outside of yourself to view things from an outsider’s perspective. Like it or not, you as a human being are prone to victimisation; you might perceive yourself as the shining hero or the downtrodden underdog in your story, but you are no doubt always at the receiving end of the world’s actions. This is a hard mindset to break free of, and no one is free of it all the time, but taking a moment every so often to objectively view yourself as Mr/Ms So-And-So going about their lives is nearly always eye-opening.
Deeply ingrain this one belief onto your psyche: your unhappiness, however deeply hidden, will taint you and the world. If you find yourself doing something that leaves a bitter after-taste, make sure you thoroughly question whyyou are doing it. Many times your mind will come up with a satisfactory answer; it’s the times it doesn’t that you should be vigilant for. Floating along in life as the current takes you is for turds. Be proactive in as many things as you can. Stop being a spectator at your own damn show.
Forgive yourselffor having done the things you maybe shouldn’t have (or not having done the things you should have). This is perhaps the very first thing you should do yet ironically is the hardest thing to learn. We are usually poorly equipped by our upbringing to handle most challenging situations. It is also natural for us to want to please. It is inevitable that we make a mess involving the two most of the time. It’s okay that you didn’t catch yourself at it until now; it’s okay that you’ve spent a year pandering to someone else’s whims; it’s okay that you’ve been browbeating yourself for the better part of your life for not being “good enough”; it’s… okay. It isn’t time that you can get back, and it usually isn’t damage that can be quickly undone, but it is always something you can overcome and convert from a loss into an evolution. Many times, it’s not going to be easy, and you’ll just as likely fall back into the trap for awhile because it was too hard to change. That’s never an excuse to not try, though: you are you – and if you don’t forgive yourself, the world won’t stop turning to do it for you.
Right, I’m verging on sounding like a self-help book now so I will conclude by repeating the one thing you will hopefully take away from reading this – seeing yourself change is inevitable; what matters is whose hand directs it. I’m not just being preachy here; I’m one of the worst offenders around that keeps getting confused by The Line, and remembering all this is what has helped me catch and clean up some of my messes.
Well, it’s finally happened – the husband has moved to the guest bedroom and refuses to sleep with me in the same bed any more because, as he so eloquently keeps asking me, “What’s the point?”
I should admit I was a bit blind-sided by this because we recently completed 9 years of being together and that morning, he initiated sex. We were both very sleepy so we didn’t ‘complete’, and that was that. That night we attended a concert and came back, again very sleepy. He initiated sex again but both of us fell asleep. Yes kids, welcome to an adult’s reality – one can actually be too sleepy to bother with sex.
The next morning onwards, I get the cold shoulder and I get told to just leave him alone. He said it was his problem and he had to deal with it, and ignored me most of the day. When it came time to go to bed, he drops the bombshell – he doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed as me. I don’t get an answer for a couple of days about why, but I finally manage him to say he will think about it for a few days before discussing it with me.
The following day, he tells me what happened – apparently the second time I mentioned above where we were very sleepy, he had asked me if we could do it and I had said, “What’s in it for me?” Ouch. Bit harsh on my part, I admit – I don’t even remember saying it so clearly the sleep removed any filters I may have usually applied to such a thought.
This needs some background, I suppose. Over the past few months, I have been trying to be honest about my feelings about our sex – I never get to orgasm because he doesn’t have any interest/energy/enthusiasm to pursue anything other than penetration. I don’t know if he doesn’t like to go down on me, or if he thinks it’s too much work, or if the learning curve has him not wanting to fail a few times, but he has only done it possibly twice or three times over the course of our 9 years together. I have faked a fair few orgasms and have teared up after sex (privately, not to his awareness) because of how frustrated I felt. I am a very sexually awake person and know I would enjoy sex if a fraction of the interest I show in my partner were shown to me.
So this whole new leaf I have seemingly turned in the hopes of working this relationship out or quitting it cleanly involves honesty, and I have been embracing that in many other ways too. As a partner, I suppose I expected him to react entirely differently – maybe to look up ways he could bring me to orgasm or improve his technique at least, or, y’know, just something that indicates to me that he wants to please me that way.
I am the opposite of a selfish lover. I have no compunctions about blow jobs and definitely enjoy the power rush from them. I am always keeping an eye out for things I think he enjoys so I can catalogue them for a repeat later. I am cooperative when it comes to positions and am always understanding about early orgasms for him (I never blame him, because we hardly ever do it so I figure he doesn’t have a chance to build up stamina). I am enthusiastic about taking control when it looks like he is too tired or maybe wants to take a back seat. But… there is only so much a girl can do before she starts questioning why there is no effort from the other end.
I understand he is busy, works all day and comes back only to work more on the start-up we have been planning. I understand he is tired physically or mentally, most of the time. I understand that he makes so many decisions every day that he just wants to come back home and unwind. But I cannot understand why, on a Saturday morning, when he’s had a lie-in and has no work to think about, he can’t try to make sex a bit more interesting for me when I have expressed a need for it. He says he is unable to focus on anything else when he has all this going on – okay, I know the type of person he is and how he becomes obsessed with finishing things. But how/why does he initiate sex if he can’t think about anything else? And when he does initiate it, why can’t he be bothered to do more than the bare necessities? I am after all his wife, right? Surely if there is one person in the world he knows he should invest some time in to please, it should be me?
Anyway, his perspective is that he cannot give me more attention because he is too tired or too focused on other things. He thinks it’s unfair on his part to expect me to sleep with him when he is not prepared to give as much in return, so therefore his solution is to not sleep together. Yes, I find the logic a bit befuddling too.
It’s been about 5 days since all this, and looks like he is perfectly happy to continue with our work discussions and daily life chatter except we are sleeping in separate beds. My second attempt to rationally and honest discuss the issue with him resulted in statements like, “I went to work today and wondered why I bothered and what was in it for me,” and, in response to when I suggested maybe once in a month or two months to focus on giving me an orgasm, “Okay, I do that and maybe once in a month or two months you go to work and earn some money.” Well, fuck.
That money argument makes me sick. It has come up so many times over the years because he is the wage-earner of the house. It’s so stupid that he brings it up now when I am actually working on the start-up he asked me to spend my time working on in exclusion to looking for work. I figured he was being spiteful because he was still hurt by my saying “What’s in it for me” and was lashing out, and told him to talk to me about it again when he felt more rational about it. This was a couple of days back and still no word on the subject although each night we are both awake as we see the other person turning in to a different bedroom, so I am not feeling too optimistic.
I have thought about various possible solutions to this situation that I could offer to him, because he is of the view that it is unfixable:
We continue as before with sex where I stay unfulfilled – I was feeling so awful that I actually considered this option for awhile. Honestly though, it is just one more unhealthy thing in the long run and is not a situation that I should volunteer for, let alone subscribe to, no matter how much I think it will relieve him.
We continue as before and he makes one session every couple of months about me – see a couple of paragraphs above. Not an option.
We continue in separate bedrooms – we are currently doing this due to lack of other ideas. I openly told him that this would only drive us further apart and that eventually we would lose any common ground we had, but he just agreed and kept quiet about it. What the hell, I’m left feeling like I am the only one interested in giving this a good old honest try.
There really isn’t another alternative here, is there? We are not the open relationship type of people.
I don’t have anybody I can speak about this to, so I guess I’m sharing it here. My mother is mentally retarded and has never been equipped to do motherly things beyond the actual giving birth, and no other parental figure really qualifies. I don’t think any of my friends qualify either because they are just as lost as I am in their own relationships and they are actually in happier ones. I don’t see a therapist so the internet’s all I’ve got left, I suppose.
I’m not really sure what the next step here is. Sorry about the long and depressing post, but it’s kind of a part of what you signed up for.
A while back, I shared a masturbation fantasy that I have used over many, many years of frustratedly working at getting myself off. I hope that someday, the fantasy becomes reality, but for the moment I am as far away from that happening as I could be. I am unhappily married and my husband has little to no interest in getting me off.
Obviously since I am doing my best to not cheat, I sought out some technological assistance to improve my efforts at self-love. I purchased a bullet vibrator and later a water bunny, and now enjoy using both to tease myself. I think I have had a few orgasms by now. I say think because I have unfortunately never experienced an earth-shattering orgasm, and no amount of internet/book reading or video watching will be able to teach me what an ‘ordinary’ orgasm will feel like for me. For the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me, and I routinely faked orgasm in bed. In the spirit of turning over a new leaf, I’ve stopped doing that and being more honest about my levels of satisfaction. (Maybe that strategy has slightly backfired on me since I haven’t had any sex in months, after being honest about not enjoying myself the last time around. Causality?)
So. I have a fertile imagination and I have been using it during my exploration sessions to cover a wide variety of reasonably vanilla sexual situations and turn-ons. Here’s a sample.
Using my fingers on my clit and pussy to pleasure myself as a nondescript man in a suit watches me with crossed legs and occasionally tells me what to do.
Unable to use my hands as my lover hand-fucks me but withholds orgasm till I can’t handle it any more.
Seeing a woman hover over me as she methodically draws her middle finger over my G-spot and then slowly fucks me with a dildo.
Being blindfolded and tied to the bed as a person slowly titillates me and goes down on me.
Sucking a man’s cock; owner of said cock occasionally releasing a ragged moan and telling me how good it feels.
If the self-pleasure session lasts longer than an hour, my mind slowly turns to mild kink and comes up with these.
On my knees facing the headboard of the bed; my wrists are tied to it and I am blindfolded. An unknown lover is teasing my arse cheeks with a flogger and occasionally landing blows that I count off.
Bent over doggy style, bound and gagged but not blindfolded, a man eating out my pussy very thoroughly and landing blows on it every now and then.
Arms and legs tied to four posts of a bed; splayed out for everyone to see and oh, everyone is seeing.
Arms bound above me, but not being suspended from them; a gentleman in his shirtsleeves laving my nipples with his tongue and mouth as he teasingly runs his palms over my flanks. I can smell his hair.
Honestly, I don’t think I am into ‘proper’ kink, but I feel a sense of contentment when sexually submissive that I struggle to feel anywhere else. Perhaps with the right trainer someday, my sensibilities could be moulded.
It’s been a long while since I’ve written here, and my mental state can really feel the difference. I feel a bit all over the place, like my thoughts are not cohesive and structured. I’ve been getting my shit together lately in other spheres of life and I think adding back blogging to that should benefit me in multiple ways.
Things as they currently stand in my marriage – I am learning on-the-job while working on a startup my husband wants to get going before he quits his day job for it. I have no prior experience with it so I’m not being very efficient about it and obviously this is the source of additional conflict. However, I do think it is a good investment of my time and it should give returns in money that I can honestly claim is 50% mine. The relationship isn’t much to speak about but we are still married and taking it a few months at a time. I occasionally forget about his mercurial moods and slip up by being affectionate; this yields rewards in the short term but eventually the inevitable blow up does occur and for the same bloody reasons as always, and he deals with them the same as before. Absolutely no improvement on the sex front either, other than a very healthy sex life between me and my two lovely vibrators. It’s all very ‘meh’.
Following a strange confluence of events that prevented me from watching Jurassic World until the third attempt, I finally did.
It was a really fun experience that entertained me both as a standalone movie as well as a sequel 22 years post the first Jurassic Park with tons of throwbacks. At no point did I feel like it dragged; I actually wanted more slow moments that developed the characters further. The dinosaurs were as awe-inspiring as ever and the story quite fun although pretty much following the same beats as the original.
On to the primary non-scientific contentious subject: Claire Dearing, Bryce Dallas Howard’s character.
Claire is depicted as a no-nonsense workaholic who has lost sight of the softer side of life in her pursuit of an ever-better bottom line, for the company and her career. We meet her as this one-dimensional suit who we are instantly made to want to be eaten by some scary carnivorous giant. Over the course of the movie, our opinions are made to do a complete 180 and, by the end, we are rooting for her and cheering her victories and hoping she is all right coming out the other side.
From this point, there might be heavy spoilers so please don’t read further unless you have seen it or don’t care about spoilers.
Claire’s arc is to me the most important one of the movie (other than that of the Indominus Rex). Sure, Chris Pratt’s character is the action guy and sure, he has a semi-trained Raptor Pack he bikes with at one point. What character development did he get though? I suppose one could say he seemed more respectful of Claire by the end of the movie but that just brings us back full circle to Claire, the real human centre of this dinofest.
With the children – in the beginning, she actively avoids spending time with them, can’t fathom why anyone would make the time to have them and pawns her nephews off onto her assistant. After the Indominus Rex escapes, she eventually manages to remember that they were on the island too and then starts worrying for them. She is open with her affection when they reunite and ensures that she puts their safety ahead of her own. By the end, she saves the day and is emotionally open with the children as well as her sister.
With the dinosaurs – Claire consistently uses the word ‘asset’ to refer to the dinosaurs. To her, they are merely items in reports that have monetary value, and she is chastised by Owen for discounting them as simple animals. Over the course of the movie, she touches a dying Apatosaurus and experiences being outwitted and overpowered by smarter dinosaurs. Instead of rotting in the illusion-of-control hubris pit, she claws her way out and even realises she needs to use a dinosaur to fight a dinosaur. (Seriously, I said spoilers.)
With Owen Grady – it doesn’t seem like she thinks much of him at the beginning, but that quickly changes after he escapes from the I-Rex. She quickly recruits him to finding them and also accompanies him despite his insistence that she stay behind. She never inconveniences his efforts by “being a weaker woman” nor does she ever fall prey to hysterics. Her failings are those of any person and not attributable to her being female. She saves his butt a few times too (although he seems unable to respond other than with a cliché every time she surprises him). She is the one that attempts the grand self-sacrificing gesture at the end, which ends up saving the day. She walks off into the light with him not as a pretty adornment but as a badass mofo that would like to eat her cake now, thank you very much.
With her job – we are made to understand, sometimes with a club beating our heads, that she is a workaholic, by-the-rules corporate machine. Multiple male characters tell her to lighten up, and the one other reasonably established female character (human, at least – remember all the dinos are girls?) is her sister who shoves the clichéd “motherhood is for everyone” argument down her throat. She is quite serious about her work, attempting to regain control of the situation using the meagre tools she has been provided with. However, upon realising that her nephews are in danger, she accepts that other people can handle the park and that she has a higher priority to look after. She isn’t a one-dimensional, unthinking automaton, and we should stop treating her like an asset and start to see the person that she really is (so to speak).
With her shoes – ah, yes. I was surprised she kept them on, but more surprised by the amount of focus the internet has placed upon her shoes (the ones in the poster above). Having shown up to work that day in a white suit and nude heels, she is forced to keep both on as she fights for her life and those of the others’ as the manic situation unfolds over a few hours. I for one think it’s great that a female character was convincingly depicted as a badass while holding onto her femininity; she didn’t have to look like a man or learn kung-fu moves to increase her cool factor. Whether or not the people behind the movie considered this or just figured she had other things to think about besides accessorizing, I think it’s great that they focused on that little detail. Sure, she runs from a T-Rex in heels (which are not ‘high’ by any means), but this is a movie with living dinosaurs – I think the disbelief has been suspended sufficiently already. (Plus, that scene really is just recreating the iconic moments Alan Grant and Ian Malcolm lured the T-Rex with a flare – was anyone put out that they seemingly outsmarted Rexy?) I don’t think the height of their shoes are the crux of the argument here in any case. It also is a nice way to show how out of her depth she is in the jungle and this dinocalypse situation. Note to self: find out what brand they are.
I have this compulsive condition where I obsess over the female characters in movies, looking for the tiniest connections to their characters. It stems partly from my lack of certainty in myself and party from my constant search of a role model or guiding principle. The Claire character actually made me attempt to reassess my beliefs of what makes strong women and what makes a strong me beyond the physical, and I absolutely adore her for it. Serious kudos to Bryce Dallas Howard for portraying her with substance, and the writers/director for not side-lining her like Hollywood is usually tempted to. Who knew you could find self-realisation in a movie about giant prehistoric birds?
I am currently running an experiment of doing to the best of my ability all the things my husband wants done, in a final attempt at keeping the marriage together. This isn’t as awfully all-encompassing as it sounds – I follow his instructions regarding work to do everyday towards starting a business together as well as errands, and do them all the way he tells me to. This takes up a lot of my time as the thing we are working on is something I don’t have any experience with and I am sort of learning on the go with it.
Unfortunately for me, this situation has no positive outcome like I had envisaged earlier:
I do all this stuff his way — he is happy therefore I am at peace — I what? Keep the status quo by continuing to do everything his way, for the rest of my life?
I do all this stuff his way — he is happy etc — I slowly start expressing myself after peace has been maintained for awhile and we have conflicts as a result. This is fine as long as we resolve these conflicts like adults; however, it just goes back to the old established pattern of him wanting to sleep off a bad mood and giving me the silent treatment.
I look for other work and leave him by joining whatever job I find – this is bound to be pretty crap work that won’t support me, and I will have to go through a separation and divorce in the mean while.
I do all this stuff, we make tons of money. Still doesn’t solve the issue of our conflict resolution.
We make tons of money, then I divorce him. Unappealing as I do not intend to claim for money after leaving him, but I would’ve put a lot of effort into earning that money. Also I will probably not be able to continue the work solo (unless I’ve gotten very good at it by that stage), leading back to the crap job plus separation situation.
Nothing looks particularly appealing at this point, I must confess. I don’t have the interest or discipline to immerse myself in what I am doing beyond the required level, but I may not have a choice at this point. This is where in the movies or nice books, the protagonist is strong and turns the situation around or finds a silver lining etc. I need to invest in some rose-tinted glasses pronto.