I realize, looking back over posts on this blog, that one might get the idea that Beloved and I have some kind of perfect relationship, in which we intuitively understand one another at all times and completely and perfectly meet one another's needs. That, or one might get the idea that I'm a damned liar.
Not really, to either. I am very happy in my relationship with Beloved. But the truth is, we drive one another crazy sometimes, we are so, so different.
Let's talk about need for alone time and need for together time.
Guess which I am fine with a minimum of? Guess which she needs or she literally can't function in her very busy life? I think everyone needs both, but we have a fairly regular struggle around my desire for more and more frequent time together. Because I have a custody schedule to which I must adhere, every other weekend (when my children are with their father) is absolutely precious to me... if we can't be together every free minute I tend to feel cheated. And angry. Until I pull myself together and realize how much I need some alone time as well.
So tonight I wanted Beloved to join my kids and me for dinner at a great, new Italian restaurant in town. She needs to stay in. I'm disappointed. But I'll live.
Beloved and I saw a film not too long ago that was advertised as a groundbreaking documentary about a couple of lesbians who, when they went to get a marriage license in their town, ended up with their lives turned upside down. And the first 10 minutes of the film were pretty riveting... all news footage and cameras popping and the women standing next to their lawyer as the legal system tried to deal with this turn of events. By the time the film was over, however, I felt I had paid my dollars to watch paint dry. The truth was, the film was pretty damned boring, when all was said and done. Their lives were boring. Which may be the revolutionary truth that LGBTQ folks ought to start advertising.
We're boring. No need to fear. We're just as boring as everyone else is.
I loved this post. You nailed it!
Ain't it the truth!
Reality is boring, ordinary, and grounded in the Holy, which I too easily forget. Cecilia, it helps a little bit to know your life is NOT perfect, though I would wish that for you and your Beloved. "Perfect" would be boring, too--and those in relationship have to keep groping and reaching to grow together. It sounds like you two are doing that. That's healthy!
I don't know. I'm pretty boring.
Hey Cecilia... just discovered your blog. I'm on your side.
It may be apocryphal, but I remember a story in my denomination about an openly gay man threatening to send video footage to an out-spoken anti-gay church leader if he continued to use the phrase "gay lifestyle." Of course, the man continued to say it and soon receives in the mail a video of the gay man's "lifestyle." In it, he wakes up, cooks breakfast, reads the paper, takes out the trash, commutes to work ... you get the picture. Boring indeed.
I'm pretty boring, too. I'm the one in my marriage who needs a lot of time alone. My husband likes somone to entertain him when he's not on the tennis court -- he's a perpetual-motion kind of guy, I'm the sedentary, contemplative type. Just give me a glass of wine on my front porch.
The variety in people always amazes me!
Whoo hoo - 3 cheers for boring, crazy true love.
Yup, it's true.
Yesterday my subversive gay agenda was: feeding the animals, taking out the trash, grocery shopping, making dinner, taking something to the PO to be mailed, dodging thunderstorms and trying to stay awake to complete watching History Detectives on our local PBS channel, not necessarily in that order.
The thunderstorms were out of the ordinary, and provided most of the day's excitement ...
I think you've hit on a very important idea--the right for LGBT people to have just as boring a lifestyle as their straight counterparts! Only then will you have true equality. After all, it can't all be wild sex and protest marches, can it?
My best beloved was away for the weekend--a rare occurence. I got used (for just a couple of days) to being on my own--got up when I wanted to, went into school (to work) when I wanted to, ate what I wanted when I wanted, stayed up late watching Buffy episodes on my laptop in bed until finally I went to sleep. The danger of this "when two become one" business is that it really happens, and then when the two are separated, they get a glimpse--just a glimpse--of what it was like before. Half the time I worried, "What if he never comes back? What if he dies in a horrible car crash on I-5? How could I possibly live without him?" and half the time I thought, "How much of my own life do I subordinate to his wishes? Did I really exist distinct, apart, from this union?" Then when he came back, it seemed that everything he did drove me crazy as I tried to get back into being one of two again. I don't think he would understand this, though.
Great post, Cecilia.
I said a special prayer for you before a lovely old statue of your patroness in York Minster yesterday...I was also delighted to find Miriam with her tambourine nearby.
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