Relationship politics, the first of many

I saw "Eat, Pray, Love" with my mom last weekend. It was not a great movie. I haven't read the book, but I gather that it is not a great book either. The movie was, however, rather enjoyable if you are able to turn on your chick-flick eyes and take it for what it is. I even found myself (reluctantly) identifying with the main character a bit. Like this character, I do tend to be that person who gets a little subsumed in relationships. My psychiatrist says it's a desire to not take risks. I agree. I don't want to be abandoned. Who does? I don't want to be disliked. Again, who does? Anyway, sometimes I can lose the core essence of myself in relationships. I like to think or hope that this has gotten better.

In fact, I know it's gotten better. Here's a roundabout way of explaining that: So I promised to say a little more about "boring sex." Now, I'm loathe to talk a lot about exes. I know it can be disrespectful, but I'll include a little disclaimer: I was with this guy for over a year. There were obviously some very wonderful components to this relationship. He is not a bad guy; he was just not a good guy for me. That said, sex with we'll call him Beige On Beige (BOB)* was really boring. At first I thought it was me. I had started some new brain drugs, and a common side effect is decreased libido. So I just figured my lack of interest in sex had to do with me, not him. But the sex was never really good. I distinctly remember from very early on trying to figure out ways to not have sex as I drove over to visit him. I can hear you all asking, "Then why did you keep seeing him?" Why indeed. Well, because I thought that I had found a special person. I convinced myself that this was the guy. I do this, you see. I managed to tell myself that I liked the things he liked like permaculture and noisy post-rock when really I hate getting my hands really dirty and I prefer Rufus Wainwright. For some reason I had told myself that this was The One and I had to Make It Work. Why I thought this at two months into a relationship, I will never know.

This whole experience has convinced me that sex is a really good litmus test. Yes, we all want to believe in romance that extends beyond sex, that is more important than sex, but you know what, sex is really important. Beyond the fact that it is the single action that has succeeded in perpetuating our species, it's also really fun. If you want to say that fun is not important, then I think you need to seriously examine how much you like yourself.

Anyway, eventually my inhibited sexual frustration made me really grumpy and moody, and BOB broke up with me because I was "mean." Two days later, though, I was okay. Angry, yes, but okay. This isn't the response of a person whose self-worth is tied up in another. Then I realized, that my self worth wasn't and that I was actually a pretty okay individual. I still catch myself in the mindset of "Well, who will I find if VSF up and leaves." I have a new mantra for this:

1. Hell no he won't leave me. I'll leave first. (Okay, not really, but kind of a little.)
2. If he does leave, I don't need to find someone else. I can enjoy singledom and masturbation. Never underestimate the power of masturbation.

So I leave you with that moral, friends. Never underestimate the power of masturbation (or self-fulfillment and all those other things that go along with it.)



* No, his name was not Bob or Robert or any derivation thereof.