Strange Allure

I have a weakness... it's the fact that Time often plays tricks on me, pulling me in, leading me on, lulling me into a quiet repose, until I am fooled by my own tenderness. I believe truly deeply that something calm has finally enveloped me, and I should be able to breathe in unadultered air. I exist in a natural bubble of honest innocence, and it's then, in that moment of absolute vulnerability, when suddenly everything goes awry and Swoosh! I'm picked up again by the storm that blew in, from the distant, churning waters of the sea. I remember things I am supposed to forget. I feel things I am supposed to supress. I act in ways from which I am supposed abstain.

The difficulty lies in the awareness of it all. I sense when the winds approach; I feel the hairs raise along my arms; I can smell the iron, mold and salt in the air as it hangs in dead stillness all around me. The charge that flows along my skin and causes a surge in my pulse is unlike any other. It signals a threshold between action and non-action that threatens to change the very course of my life -- all dependent upon what I choose to do. What I choose to say, what jokes I choose to make, how I send a look across the room, or knowingly drop my view to the floor. It's here that I balance... and can fall to either direction.

During periods of calm, I "behave", don't break the rules, accept responsibility, manage the turbulence of life, and through it all, still remain true to myself and to my loved ones. I feel civilized, proper, and quiet. I don't tell lies, but I also choose not to speak when faced with a challenging situation. When given the choice to reveal a hidden aspect of me, or remain silent, I choose the latter, for the safety of it all. I am socially conservative.

It's when I'm in the midst of an explosive episode that I yearn to be in diametric opposition to where I stand in safety. Yes, I want to be loyal to my husband, and I still feel all the desire for responsibility and civility, but the choice is that much more difficult. I don't know the reasons behind my swings in personality; they just exist. I have a feeling that my entire life will constantly be challenged by these very aspects of who I am. If I can stay clear and present with the change as it is occurring, then perhaps at least I can live a full life of awareness, and at most, with compassion.

Currently, I can sense a storm approaching. The tides are acting out, unruly, and unpredictable. The sea is coming for me, and from the way I've been thinking all day, I'm not so sure I can continue gazing at the floor anymore.

disappointment

yesterday I was distant from my husband. he's been home for only a week after having been gone for two months, and I become emotionally distant. what is up with that? he treats me like a queen, and I go and have fling after fling, cocky and arrogant, pursuing my fleeting desires, unapologetic and unremorseful. how is it that I can go on committing these indiscretions that most people consider to be heinous acts of vile treacherous behavior? even now, as I feel somewhat sad about my emotional distancing, I know that if given the opportunity, I would probably fuck around again. I really hate that I'm doing it behind his back, and I SOO wish that he could give me this one thing that I can not possibly ever ask of him.

I know it is mistaken for one spouse to expect his/her partner to change fundamental personality traits; it might even be wrong to hope that such things could change. but tell me, is it wrong to hope that you could change fundamental parts of who you are, in order to fit inside a successful marriage? is it even possible? because as I'm looking at who I am in this partnership, and where I'm standing, the only thing I see is a person who wants to be someone she is not, in order to maintain a steady marriage. I want to be self-sacrificing, but in reality I'm a selfish liar. I want to be solitarily devoted to only one man, but instead, my attractions and my interests are dividing steadily. I want to maintain a stable and comfortable relationship, but my actions are divisively acting against that.

is it just that I am so insecure in my core personality that I feed off of the shallow and brief attention that comes with sexual attraction? am I hooked? is this an illness? is this my obsession? or am I really just being true to myself, true to my desiring self, and therefore genuine in these deeds?

I am not regretful of any physical act or emotional connection that has been made. however, after all this time, I don't like the deception. I don't like hiding entire chunks of myself from him. I don't like being someone else inside my head, while being the me that he loves and adores outwardly. I feel fractured, and it's becoming more difficult to string the pieces together. my options from here are lacking in desirability. 1) I go back to being "faithful", and stop everything else cold-turkey. That means I break all connections that have been made with previous lovers and live in a conventionally-styled marriage that I secretly wish to dismantle philosophically and politically. 2) I continue on this adulterous path and keep living a double life, filled with passionate adventure and dark, cold loneliness. I continue to allow my husband sense that something is wrong, but pacify him with words. I keep letting him love only the shell of me. 3) I try to bring these issues to the open, knowing that change can break us. Knowing that I risk everything we've built for the mere possibility of getting what I truly want, an open marriage.

I don't have the strength to change us. I don't have the strength to stop. I am paralyzed by fear. I know why I am emotionally distant, and he is struggling to understand it, to understand me. Today I disappointed a friend, by falling through on plans that were made. Because of that, I realized something: I became disappointed in myself because I took to heart how that friend felt, and I judged myself harshly because of it. That's how I knew how important that friend was in my life. The thing about my husband is of all the people in my life, I don't want to disappoint him the most, ever -- that is why I take every single criticism to heart, and that is why I take every critical word as a slight against my person. I judge myself through what I deem are his eyes, without being aware of it, and despite his actual perceptions. In this desperate and fantastic pursuit for ultimate perfection, I have built castles around my weaknesses, around my every pit and pockmark to create a person who might deserve a bit of his undying and unconditional love. But the gaps are growing wider, and the holes are getting deeper. My imperfection is seeping through the cracks in the mortar and my "real", possibly - probably - unlovable self will eventually wear through.

where am I supposed to go from here?

insecurity and impropriety

When I was in the high school, I wore pantyhose to school every now and again. One day when I was in the 10th grade, I wore a pair that were hand-me-downs and happened to be a couple sizes too large. No problem, nylons are stretchy, so most of it fit just fine; the only problem was that the length was meant for someone between the sizes of 5'6" to 5'10" or so and as a result, they kept inching their way down my legs, seeing as I was a whopping 5'3" at the time. Of course as they began to sag, I would have to hike them up, bit by bit so that the sagginess was up high enough that the circumference of my thigh would be thick enough to at least hold them for a good half-hour before they began to sag again. I remember I was in social studies class, and in order to do this ritual, I was forced to stick my leg out into the isle between my desk and the wall so that I could pull them up high and tight, in the meanwhile, pulling up my skirt as well. I didn't realize anyone was looking as I was doing this, but apparently, my teacher had! He called me out into the hallway and gave me a stern talking-to. He said "what were you trying to do in there?" and I replied, "I was pulling up my pantyhose because they were slipping down." Mind you, I wasn't attracted to him whatsoever, and I didn't have a clue that it could possibly turn anyone on, let alone be an inappropriate action on my part. He then said to me, "well, you shouldn't be doing that in class, because you really don't know who it could be affecting." I probably went beet red when he said that, proceeded to apologize, and then slinked back into my seat in horror that I could have been "affecting" my teacher. That was my first lesson in sexual impropriety.

Again, when I was in high school, my mother took me bathing suit shopping. I wanted my first bikini... after I had boobs. (Those first sets of two pieces when you're flat as a board really don't count.) After I tried it on, loving the way my barely-there boobies looked in this new suit that looked exactly like a matching bra & panty set, my mom checked it out on me. The first thing she said to me was "don't you feel naked in that?" Quizzically, I looked at her and said "No way! It's a bikini!" All throughout high school, I wore short, short cutoff shorts, tiny shirts, tight tank tops, short mini-skirts, and never did I feel naked. I felt cute, and sexy. But I didn't realize how the sexy part affected others. Perhaps I was a bit oblivious. Really, I was very oblivious. I just wanted to look pretty, never really thinking that my body was at all sexy, given all of my girl friends were over-developed, curvaceous and already looking like real women at the age of 13. I never thought the boys that I wanted even looked at me "like that" anyway, and I was so inexperienced in that arena, why would I possibly be self-conscious about the way I dressed? Those days are now long gone... Now, even though I love the way my legs and ass look in short shorts, I can't bring myself to wear them. Forget mini-skirts! And when I wear a bikini that makes me look hot, I still want to wear a cover up. Let me tell you why: I do hear my mother saying "don't you feel naked?" And then I hear my social studies teacher saying "you don't know who it could be affecting." I went to the beach with my friends a few weeks ago, and wore a bikini. I was self-conscious because I didn't want the wife to feel uncomfortable that I was looking sexy while her husband was right there. And I didn't want her to feel bad that she's overweight and I'm stick-thin. I never "dress up" when I go out with my husband because he says he hates it when I look good. I know he's joking, but on one level, he actually is insecure of having a babe as a wife. That's why I always wear jeans. And pants. I can still look good in them, yet I'm not pushing that button of impropriety. I'm always asking him "is this too much?"

Thank you world for somehow making me dislike my own comfort in this sexy body.