Black

I am quite tired of putting on a façade of pretense for the sake of others around me. Sometimes it’s necessary to skip the bs of small talk, especially when I'm overwhelmed and need specific help… to just say “I'm autistic and am overwhelmed, I need xyz” to a retail worker and them being blunt back helps immensely. But for the sake of close loved ones, I am tired of putting on masks to be a certain way around THEM for them to feel comfortable. Sometimes, my authentic self intimidates others; I match words with my deeper feelings and I talk openly about my trauma… on the off chance some ears hear my plight and the strength I’ve gained within, to inspire others to be so open with themselves is a quaint byproduct of being myself.

I had thought I could be myself around someone who would accept me for who I was. That I’d continue to be myself and them to love me no matter what… when in reality, they were bent out of shape, walking on eggshells around what they assumed was my weaknesses, distrusting my strength because theirs was such a low bar… they couldn’t handle their big feels, so figured I couldn’t handle theirs…. I thought I could be myself, but I kept cutting off bits of myself to fit their narrative, to fit into their lives. They watched me as I shrunk down to their level, never being able to build myself back up because they had no idea how to build themselves up. I didn’t need a devil’s advocate, I needed a cheerleader.

For a very long while, I had felt safe around Crickets but as I know now, just because he was familiar, doesn’t mean he was healthy… I grew past and beyond what he had to offer, I learned what boundaries to draw in the sands of my soul in order to maintain sanity and safety. I've come to the conclusion that that person cannot possibly be a friend to me, even now. He was my entrusted best friend and lover… because all my life, I wanted to marry my best friend. ….but maybe he wanted to marry a mother? I'm not sure. I was out of touch with what he wanted… he had no idea how to woo me, because honestly he never did. He gave me a few great gifts over the years, some I still wear proudly; but not enough to have sustained my love for the relationship. Not enough to toss or throw away, I really wanted the thing, and was tickled pink when I did get it... 

He would make excellent food, a default for him to make me feel better if I was having a bad bout of time or a particular occasion… but I can't keep food around. I can't recall what food we had for when… but I had made earrings from beads that I got during a shopping spree he gave me at joannes for our one yr anniversary… and I'd wear them whenever I thought of him. Whenever I wanted to celebrate us… the beads were midnight blue and very sparkly… midnight blue was his favorite color. I recall driving around with him and he said he was at a loss for what to get me… He had said he was going to get me a kitten; but getting a cat, falling in love, and the fear of giving them away because of developed allergies was a discernable fear. All gifts were always kept a surprise for some reason? And then last minute, I got a shopping spree at Joannes. I loved it. Anything I wanted. Yes, there was a cap to the amount, but… I could get whatever I wanted. It is my favorite sort of gift… the control I was afforded...

But I never got a shopping spree again. He would dangle such things or romances over me like a goal to reach instead of freely give. He never got me.... but he'd spend money on himself and whatever he wanted, great. Good for him, but he never understood doing the same for me, his S.O. . He could never understand my complexities because he had never done the inner work to see himself as he is... not really. I hope he doesn't stop going to therapy. 

I've come to the conclusion that that person can't possibly be a friend to me. It was wrong of me to place so much of an emotional price on one single person, but I knew deep down that he could never reflect my shine; he could never reflect the emotions I gave him so freely… he'd yell at me to tell him what I needed and I just thought I had… he was just shit at listening… I kept bending and reforming myself into what he wanted, and he NEVER returned the favor or sought help from friends. The friendships he maintained over discord or through the worship he had for his ungraduating alma mater… GA Tech… I think he wanted a college girlfriend? But I wanted a husband/Primary… we were never on the same page. And now we’re not in the same zip code….

Almost a decade of losing bits of myself along the way; I find it trying to put back pieces of myself of how I used to be, romantic and caring and considering of the other person… what I would give away so freely to him, and now he thinks so lowly of me, like that of a child. When did he stop thinking of me as a woman? Like he was the only moral compass, that I sought his advice at times, but he never sought mine or wanted to see from my POV. He never wanted to understand me, but he demanded acceptance. He demanded respect but he never gave it.

****

Our massive misunderstandings of each other just became part of the fine eggshell sand we’d tip toe around… that grief or loss of lost time changes the feeling of remorse and regret. I can't fathom who I was right at 30 anymore, I wanted to get married; my life will have purpose; I finally would have what I was promised my entire life….

 

If I could cut out my ex from the last seven years, I wouldn’t be the person I love now… I love myself and am pretty ok being by myself in my room… so… I cannot regret the time I had with him… I learned a lot about myself. 

I'd like to be with someone who actually wants me to be around… but when I meet someone who do, I don’t believe them. …not sure what that’s about. I'd want to meet someone who respects me and my well being… who wants to grow with me, not just stay with me… who wants to watch movies with me and Doctor Who… I wanted to make friends through my partner because I got to skip the vetting part. Just go straight to friendship… but how he conducted himself with his friends was… low respect. He wasn’t so much the historian or the diplomat… but I think he was the door mat. … he allowed everyone to say what they wanted about each other, to him, and maybe by extension, to me? I really never sought out those friendships afterwards, outside of the yearly get togethers because I don’t want friends who would speak so lowly of each other to a neutral party or behind their back. I'm of the caliber of humans that will build or glow one up, if they're not in the same room. Would you have said that in front of them? Well then, that’s a bit nasty, isn’t it? I can't trust or confide in you my woes because it'll turn into fodder for gossip to someone else… a bit mean girls regina of you, and I am not here for it.

I have always envied my cousins who have a better loving relationship within their own immediate family… my father is emotionally unavailable because it’s easier to have no emotions than to process the big ones in a messy way… life is messy. It is rarely uniform and congruent with what you want in particular… life is difficult, but it teaches you along the way, especially if you continue to open your mind and heart to different people and concepts of love and acceptance. I am lost, in that, I don’t have a model or a mentor in front of me to help and give me advice along the way… I have no idea how to ask for the bigger things I need help with because such vulnerability makes me feel like an invalid. Like a child. I don’t want to feel that way, so I remain quiet as the boulders and pressure build with more and more nonsense until I deal with the matter…

I fear if I step out freely as my authentic queer self, that those closest to me will withdraw all the way, instead of the pebbles of attention they give me now. Will I cause a rift in the family? Will I divide this family further? Will I be cursed or “prayed for harder?” … I love the identity of Autism… it’s made life make so much more sense than before. 

…I wanted to be apart of a family that I could identify with and enjoy… that they accept me for who I am as is, and I could just be myself… I felt most at-home with his family… I felt relaxed and happy with them… except this past Christmas (different entry)… 

His Mom loved me probably because she saw how much he loved me, but I needed more… I wanted more from him but he never could give me what he never found within himself. I held on so long because I wanted to be apart of a family like his; one that valued every connection… I wanted to be a part of a family who would support me like that, who wanted us to be happy… My father never bothered in the last four years, to make a meeting of parents happen. He never valued the connection enough… he once gave Crickets his blessing, thinking maybe if he extended it that Crickets would finally propose? But of course, that never happened.

Once, Crickets had accused me of wanting to be black. He had wanted me to say it aloud, like he had come to the conclusion in his head that's what was wrong with me...was that I wanted to be something I clearly wasn’t… as if to admit some hidden truth about myself. Did he just see me as an arrogant white person? Privileged and out of touch? Unaware? …why did he think I wanted to be anything other than what I am? It made me so sad and disappointed that he'd think such a thing... He is the only POC I've dated or invested so much time in. He'd get so mad if I told him to be quiet or stop yelling, that that was offensive because he's black... Yelling is a trigger of mine. He could never explain himself well enough without yelling... So we just began not talking. 

All he saw was a lost soul, hateful towards other white people and the desire to be what I'm not. It definitely isn’t the first time for that accusation, but I never expected it from him. Yes, I understood that his skin tone was different than mine and there is an unsettling reality in this country that I have never been privy to… I can sympathize and vote accordingly …but I cannot personally know what its like to be black, nor have I ever wished it. What I had wished for was a family who accepted my differences and felt like I could be myself around. I held on so long because I was envious of his family… it felt as though they had what mine lacked, and I fit right in with ease…

I'm now trying to redefine who I am, just me. I am thoughtful and romantic, because that feels like love to me, how to express my love for another human being, is being drafted. I used to make lists for those I knew to keep track of what they liked… but that quirk feels depleted or unreal right now... Will it come back once I have friends I can trust again?h When I saw something they liked or needed, I could simply click and ship. And now, since I'm counting my own pennies, I don’t really do that as often.

He was never regulated or respected my boundaries when I tried to draw them for myself. He'd forget my existence in happier memories and then get upset at me when I expressed feelings of exclusion; throwing in my face that I have forgotten what he said all the time. Like he was infallible of forgetting what was said? He could never apologize to me or admit defeat. I was always wrong for feeling the ways I was feeling…

…I know I'm not black. I've never wanted to be black. The experience that I've had in my life is that there's a higher correlation of POC who have accepted me at face value for my authenticity, because the opposite is true for those who are white, who may see me as lower or less than … 

I just want friends who I can trust with my heart, again. Fruitful and complex, deep and comfortable. Someone who would like to keep growing with me, either as platonic or as a lover…. But I haven’t any model or example to follow. It is difficult to make friends as an adult, without some sort of inebriation. I am tired of making friends that way.

...

I don’t talk to Crickets anymore. Sometimes I wonder what he’s up to, or how his life is going… but I fear if I reach out and ask, that all he’d have is more negativity to dump at my feet like a cat throwing up a hairball. He never shared good things that happened to him, or celebrations… he never confided in me or wanted to know how I thought about things… he never could match me, because he never wooed me… I was the aggressor. I chased and sought him… he never lifted a finger to win me, I threw myself at him hoping our lust would bind us together… lol.

I can't make friends easily. I'm flakey, have trust issues, and I don't know what to say sometimes… and if I don’t see you everyday, it’s hard to keep track of how you are… so I get it. But Crickets is an Asshole… and has no trouble expressing when he feels unjustified, but whether or not it's rational or useful is the main issue. He says stuff aloud like “Get outta mah fucking way” like he's someone who can win a physical fight… lol. I have zero belief that he can. People who are loveable assholes are one type of person… people who are actual assholes who never want to better themselves and stay the same because it's easier to wear people down than to sharpen your caliber of expressions or skills of speech…. Well, you will have a harder time at making lasting friendships, and being someone who is easier to talk to ...

Online friends are safer sometimes… long distance is safer sometimes… real complex human beings are fascinating. ….I wish to befriend more different kinds of people… I don't think he’ll have the same type of ease, since he talks down to others when it seems so easy for him. “oh I hold my tongue with you because I know I'd hurt your feelings” ….but he never extended that kindness to anyone else… he was probably never that kind to himself… sad.

He'll be in the same part of town, doing the same bachelor life/college roommate routine for awhile… not sure if he’ll ever live with another romantic partner ever again, but… I'm hoping he’ll come to some conclusions that it wasn’t just me that was at fault… he had a lot to sort out as far as keeping things clean because he was never able to brush his teeth or take care of himself or be able to find solutions to his issues or ask for help from me or  his friends… he always had to keep the peace, but he never actually fixed anything… it’s ok when friends break up…

He could never keep up with what I really wanted in a partner because he never trusted me with any one task he had on his plate… he never wanted to bother me? But then he’d warp anything he thought of that would “help” me into a whispered assignment and count it against me when I didn’t meet his expectations… he’d set my goals for me and count it against me when I failed to fulfill them… meanwhile, he never filled my quota for romance and love making… I wasn’t allowed to discuss anything with him or try to rebuild some better routine/boundaries that were more healthy like cleaning….. he never respected me, but expected it in troves.

…

I had never thought of him wanting to be white. I saw him first as A. and then as a black man. I guess he just saw me as another white girl… but never as a woman.

The ways in which he kept choosing himself over and over and over again boggles my mind why I stayed so long. He’d constantly redefine situations that didn’t happen that way. And my memory isn’t so good, sure… but I just felt like he'd take advantage of that and argue that I recalled things wrong. That his brain was a steel trap. Even if the truth made you look bad, what you did destroyed and violated the trust your partner had had in you… how do you cope? How do you trust anyone ever again?

How do I trust another, beyond lust, ever again?

……………

I'm rewatching Sister Act. I remember watching it a lot as a kid, and I definitely saw myself in Whoopi... full, high cheekbones, no eyebrows, and a wonderful sense of humor. Beautiful… I understood we had different skin tones, but I wasn’t envious of it. I emulated parts of my personality after her various characters she would display on screen… the personas of the characters she played resonated with me, a person who resembled me and was still considered successful and funny. Looking back, a lack of eyebrows doesn’t seem like the same importance as racial discrimination, sure… but to a child who has no concept of that level of discrimination or the macro issue of systemic racism… I was 8. White and middle class. Undiagnosed autistic, and unaware of the global issues at work… adults were a bit silly sometimes, but…. Overall, I just thought Whoopi was a great actress, portraying those that may not have had the loudest voice in the room, but made their presence known by the end of it… a true character arc to aspire to...

Whoopi reflected on the screen, how I wish I could be. She was someone I had looked up to, when the irl adults that surrounded me were a lot to handle… too much sometimes. She was someone I looked up to, through her various film roles or tv shows…

I'm not sure how she aligns herself nowadays, but 1990s Whoopi was pretty stellar of a human being. She also knew Robin Williams as a friend… ♥

Snow.