(NOTE: Written about an experience in the past, does NOT reflect the present.)
When I was under the impression Girl was trying to get rid of me and have Girlfriend to herself, I was livid. How dare she. HOW DARE SHE?!! When I had been so supportive? So kind? I felt like Girl was the snakiest snake of all.
And this would perhaps be a case of good ol’ Matthew 7:3: “And why worry about a speck in your friend’s eye when you have a log in your own?” (NLT) I remember this verse not because of the many Bible studies I attended, but because I once had a main role in Godspell.
Anyway.
Who was I to sit on the high horse of “How dare you try to steal my partner?” when I have been with two married men, one engaged man, two men with girlfriends, and… My gosh. Have I only dated two men who were actually available? And both of them while I was NOT available? That is a shady-as-shit track record.
When I was with men, I have a history of having ZERO moral compass, and the accompanying ZERO self-respect. I wanted what I wanted, and I did not care who was in my way. That can sound like I was a powerful bad bitch ruthlessly ripping apart homes and stomping on hearts with my six-inch stilettos, but I was not.
I was super weak. Super fragile. I had no idea who I was, no idea I was codependent AND anxious-avoidant, and I would not figure it out for a long time. My value came from being wanted, and I craved men who would hurt. Tell me, what is one of the greatest signs of a man that will hurt? A man who will cheat on his partner to be with me, or a man who does not care that I am already taken. Men with gaping wounds to match my own. I found them intoxicating, they were everything, my compulsion, my obsession, I was a sucker for the game to make them want me, to make them mine, to taste the momentary victory before rolling into the unwinnable game of trying to get them to treat me well. Like I even knew what it meant to be treated well.
For many, I felt like I was saving them. Saving them from abusive wives, from cheating wives, from controlling girlfriends, from the super boring woman their father wanted them to marry, from the women who kept breaking their heart. It felt almost noble, and it was so addictive, to feel like the creator of freedom, to feel like the key to their shackles. To feel them drink me in, like fresh water amidst the sands of the Sahara, to feel like I brought them back to vitality, back to love. I was addicted to being a lifeline. Codependent to the core. And I imagine Girl may have felt this way? Like she was an oasis infusing Girlfriend with new life. Which would make sense, because I think Girlfriend said that to her, like, two hundred times in twenty different ways.
And when I cheated, I rationalized it with reasons. He is abusive. He is controlling. He is a liar. He is an alcoholic. He is in love with my friend. He won’t have sex with me. He is cruel. He makes me feel worthless. He cheated first. And you’d think I’d have just left them instead of cheating, which is veeeeeery stressful, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I did not have the capacity to make that choice. And I was so accustomed to stress and chaos and feeling like a terrible, shitty, weak, pathetic human being that I hung out there a lot. It was my zone, my happy unhappy place.
There will be other posts about the many questionable things I’ve done later. The point I am making is I am aware of the absurdity of my indignation with what I thought I saw in Girl when I have actually done it all. Repeatedly. And hurt a LOT of people. I know what it is to desire someone’s attention so strongly I don’t care about anything else. I know what it is to be selfish, inconsiderate, and ruthless. I know what it is to WANT at all costs. I’ve been there. I get it.
And this sentiment extends to Girlfriend, too. I tried so hard to be cool because I GET IT.
