I used to pride myself on being complex, by which I understood to mean this glorious mix of celebrations and contradictions that coexist within me. I enjoyed men who reveled in my complexity and who themselves were proud of their earned complex. As I mature and encounter a world that has more than its share of complexities which one has to grapple with just to live day to day- too many for one person to fully grasp- I appreciate that complexity just means all the wack stuff, the psychological dirt and grime Ive accumulated over the years as a result of being tossed around in the world and now grown accustomed to it like a broken finger or toe that never healed properly--- and was now either too lazy, too arrogant or too self-absorbed to do the work to improve. So Ive been outsourcing the work and the burden to other people- usually men- who then had to love my complexity. Not that I had to work to be simpler, but they had to shoulder the weight of my complexity as a sign that they loved me because they were willing to do the work to understand me. Ive now come to understand that relationships of all kinds should be basic math, no calculus. One should not have to do regression analysis in order to learn how to love me, and I shouldnt have to do that with them. Ill pass on the brother who imagines himself trigonometry and take the brother who imagines himself a 2+2=5 kinda man. Yeah hes a little off, but not by much, and besides we can have some fun figuring out what we can add or subtract to make us add up a whole number in ways that allow us to help solve some of the terrible complexities in the world.
Posted on: Sat, 25 Oct 2014 05:51:42 +0000