Damn I meant to search to make sure I wasn't creating a duplicate thread. Oh well.
So I once had this girlfriend who told me in the heat of self-recrimination that she had once been a hardcore addict of cocaine. That it had shaped her life and driven her to near destruction. But she had finally gotten rehab and broken the habit.
I am not sure why she told me this thing. I think she was determined to have me reject her on the grounds of impurity. Perhaps it was a sort of test for hers. Of course I did not reject her, I found myself drawn to the internal strength which had steered her clear.
I later found that her internal source of impurity was much deeper than I had imagined. As a child she had been raped several times by a friend of the family.
Two years after the relationship was over and the flames of passion had burnt down to warm coals, she told me that she had never used cocaine in her life. My reaction was of simple confusion, frustration, and ultimately acceptance.
The thing is when she told me about the drugs she was in bed with me and she burst into tears and would not look me in the face. It was, I am sure, the most convincing performance I have ever witnessed. But now I have no doubt that she was not telling me the truth.
It bugs me though, the question of “why” persists. I can see now that our conversation had run too close to the painful truth that she was unready to reveal. Out of fear she created a convincing story that she was able to reinforce through tapping into the emotions of her childhood violations. This part I can understand easily enough.
The secondary the tertiary reasons of are what disturb me. The atmosphere of the circumstance was of the most intimate nature perhaps achievable between two people. In such a moment lies seem unthinkable, deceit unbearable. This was the most significant lie, but by no means the only as she has told me since.
I wonder if it is a sort of power struggle that she engaged in. In intercourse I have been told that there is a loss of power by the woman as her body is stimulated on such a level that demands the compliance of the mind. Independence of will succumbs to the sirens call of the act. Does the marble fight the chisel?
Perhaps her lies where an attempt to take back control of the situation, if she could dominate my mind the way I had dominated hers, then perhaps she had not lost control of the situation. I can understand that.
But this explanation bothers me. For she was an excellent lover and yes at times on could say that I was in control but most of the time I was in no more control than her than she was of me. But, even if I was in control all of the time, is the hand holding the chisel any less shaped by the act as the marble?
Other explanations might include a simple joy of telling convincing lies that she found particularly entertaining at certain moments. Is my experience a unique one? I think not.
I am eager to hear the insights of others.
So I once had this girlfriend who told me in the heat of self-recrimination that she had once been a hardcore addict of cocaine. That it had shaped her life and driven her to near destruction. But she had finally gotten rehab and broken the habit.
I am not sure why she told me this thing. I think she was determined to have me reject her on the grounds of impurity. Perhaps it was a sort of test for hers. Of course I did not reject her, I found myself drawn to the internal strength which had steered her clear.
I later found that her internal source of impurity was much deeper than I had imagined. As a child she had been raped several times by a friend of the family.
Two years after the relationship was over and the flames of passion had burnt down to warm coals, she told me that she had never used cocaine in her life. My reaction was of simple confusion, frustration, and ultimately acceptance.
The thing is when she told me about the drugs she was in bed with me and she burst into tears and would not look me in the face. It was, I am sure, the most convincing performance I have ever witnessed. But now I have no doubt that she was not telling me the truth.
It bugs me though, the question of “why” persists. I can see now that our conversation had run too close to the painful truth that she was unready to reveal. Out of fear she created a convincing story that she was able to reinforce through tapping into the emotions of her childhood violations. This part I can understand easily enough.
The secondary the tertiary reasons of are what disturb me. The atmosphere of the circumstance was of the most intimate nature perhaps achievable between two people. In such a moment lies seem unthinkable, deceit unbearable. This was the most significant lie, but by no means the only as she has told me since.
I wonder if it is a sort of power struggle that she engaged in. In intercourse I have been told that there is a loss of power by the woman as her body is stimulated on such a level that demands the compliance of the mind. Independence of will succumbs to the sirens call of the act. Does the marble fight the chisel?
Perhaps her lies where an attempt to take back control of the situation, if she could dominate my mind the way I had dominated hers, then perhaps she had not lost control of the situation. I can understand that.
But this explanation bothers me. For she was an excellent lover and yes at times on could say that I was in control but most of the time I was in no more control than her than she was of me. But, even if I was in control all of the time, is the hand holding the chisel any less shaped by the act as the marble?
Other explanations might include a simple joy of telling convincing lies that she found particularly entertaining at certain moments. Is my experience a unique one? I think not.
I am eager to hear the insights of others.
> Damn I meant to search to make sure I wasn't creating a duplicate thread. Oh well.
OCD redundant thread prevention (ORTP) is a key ttf syndrome.
> The secondary the tertiary reasons of are what disturb me. The atmosphere of the circumstance was of the most intimate nature perhaps achievable between two people. In such a moment lies seem unthinkable, deceit unbearable.
Agreed. I'm not sure what to say about this.
The "power analysis" is possible and compelling, but I'm not sure if I believe it. My past relationships have had very prominent power struggles, this one is less obvious.
A few quick thoughts on my work computer.
OCD redundant thread prevention (ORTP) is a key ttf syndrome.
> The secondary the tertiary reasons of are what disturb me. The atmosphere of the circumstance was of the most intimate nature perhaps achievable between two people. In such a moment lies seem unthinkable, deceit unbearable.
Agreed. I'm not sure what to say about this.
The "power analysis" is possible and compelling, but I'm not sure if I believe it. My past relationships have had very prominent power struggles, this one is less obvious.
A few quick thoughts on my work computer.
Three words come to mind: bat shit insane.
naw... she was great
i like crazy girls too
Troll?
bitches aint shit but hoes and tricks,
Intimacy does not need to be measured in power over someone. People need to realize that equality is the key. Damn, too bad i am on my phone.
bitches aint shit but hoes and tricks,
Intimacy does not need to be measured in power over someone. People need to realize that equality is the key. Damn, too bad i am on my phone.
> People need to realize that equality is the key.
IT'S THE STRUGGLE
IT'S THE STRUGGLE
I totally understand the struggle. But have you ever tried just not caring about that?
dont take advice from me. Im a mental mess.
dont take advice from me. Im a mental mess.
Here's what I'm getting from you so far:
She was a compulsive liar with an acute understanding of when you were at your most receptive/responsive, little regard for your trust in her, and obvious emotional instability.
Is that about right?
To me, the lie just sounds like an attempt to reassure herself of your love for her by testing the limits of your acceptance of her. And/or to shift herself into a more submissive "I need you to take care of me" role. Which is tricky. Because while some women are submissive because they would rather be dominated (because they are literally unable to act otherwise or because they like being obedient/commanded around), there is also an alarming number who play the part just to see how little effort they can put in and still get away with. In those latter cases, they aren't losing any power, they're gaining it.
So which one sounds more likely in your case?
She was a compulsive liar with an acute understanding of when you were at your most receptive/responsive, little regard for your trust in her, and obvious emotional instability.
Is that about right?
To me, the lie just sounds like an attempt to reassure herself of your love for her by testing the limits of your acceptance of her. And/or to shift herself into a more submissive "I need you to take care of me" role. Which is tricky. Because while some women are submissive because they would rather be dominated (because they are literally unable to act otherwise or because they like being obedient/commanded around), there is also an alarming number who play the part just to see how little effort they can put in and still get away with. In those latter cases, they aren't losing any power, they're gaining it.
So which one sounds more likely in your case?
Also, this: "In intercourse I have been told that there is a loss of power by the woman as her body is stimulated on such a level that demands the compliance of the mind." is highly questionable at best. I would go so far as to say it's absurd, but if she's the one who told you that, all bets are off :-o
In intercourse I have been told that there is a loss of power by the woman as her body is stimulated on such a level that demands the compliance of the mind.
earlier today, i was going to reply by saying this:
did you learn this in an anatomy class taught by a misogynist?
that sentence filled me with anger like few can.
fuck yeah that is the kinds of responses that I wanted!
First thing, I am more forgiving of dishonesty than most of you seem to be. Yes it is one of the most important virtues, but so far as I can see she never lied to me to hurt me, just to protect (and amuse) herself. Weakness, but not malice. Besides there is honesty and there is honesty. Even the worst verbal lie can be easily outweighed by a truly honest expression of emotion. Yes perhaps her behavior was at times childish, but it was also so charming and mysterious. Besides I understood her intuitively. You can mask your thoughts with lies but you cannot mask your soul from one who knows you.
Étrangère>>She was a compulsive liar with an acute understanding of when you were at your most receptive/responsive, little regard for your trust in her, and obvious emotional instability.
Perhaps you are right about most things, but sadly enough I think she wanted my trust in her more than anything.
Étrangère>>To me, the lie just sounds like an attempt to reassure herself of your love for her by testing the limits of your acceptance of her. And/or to shift herself into a more submissive "I need you to take care of me" role. Which is tricky. Because while some women are submissive because they would rather be dominated (because they are literally unable to act otherwise or because they like being obedient/commanded around)
As for submissive roles. She was perhaps one of the most headstrong persons I have ever met. Our wills would push up into each other to the point where at times I (a person not easily moved by others) would have to struggle to stay on my feet. But at times she enjoyed being submissive, but it was obvious that we both saw it as a act.
as for the quote that stimulated the comments:
Étrangère>>highly questionable at best.
and
lucas>>an anatomy class taught by a misogynist?
The one who told me this was my first and I was her first. It was restated in other words later by another intimate as well. I make no claim to its voracity.
lucas>> that sentence filled me with anger like few can.
:)
First thing, I am more forgiving of dishonesty than most of you seem to be. Yes it is one of the most important virtues, but so far as I can see she never lied to me to hurt me, just to protect (and amuse) herself. Weakness, but not malice. Besides there is honesty and there is honesty. Even the worst verbal lie can be easily outweighed by a truly honest expression of emotion. Yes perhaps her behavior was at times childish, but it was also so charming and mysterious. Besides I understood her intuitively. You can mask your thoughts with lies but you cannot mask your soul from one who knows you.
Étrangère>>She was a compulsive liar with an acute understanding of when you were at your most receptive/responsive, little regard for your trust in her, and obvious emotional instability.
Perhaps you are right about most things, but sadly enough I think she wanted my trust in her more than anything.
Étrangère>>To me, the lie just sounds like an attempt to reassure herself of your love for her by testing the limits of your acceptance of her. And/or to shift herself into a more submissive "I need you to take care of me" role. Which is tricky. Because while some women are submissive because they would rather be dominated (because they are literally unable to act otherwise or because they like being obedient/commanded around)
As for submissive roles. She was perhaps one of the most headstrong persons I have ever met. Our wills would push up into each other to the point where at times I (a person not easily moved by others) would have to struggle to stay on my feet. But at times she enjoyed being submissive, but it was obvious that we both saw it as a act.
as for the quote that stimulated the comments:
Étrangère>>highly questionable at best.
and
lucas>>an anatomy class taught by a misogynist?
The one who told me this was my first and I was her first. It was restated in other words later by another intimate as well. I make no claim to its voracity.
lucas>> that sentence filled me with anger like few can.
:)
Now I would like to speak of another love. The Swede.
She was the first girl I ever fell absolutely and completely in love with. I was lured by her intellect, passions, and overwhelming beauty. Her free laughter caught my heart and twisted. Her eyes seemed to catch my soul and study it.
I gave to her without reservation and in return she held me at arms length, inspiring my desire for her to be all the more overwhelming. In moments of romantic passion she would lower the barriers for a moment, but the next day I would always wake up to realize that she had thought things over and once again had pushed me away.
Even as she rejected me, my desire for her grew. I recognized in her aloofness a superiority for which I at once admired and hated. Just as I needed her more and more, I hated myself more and more as I recognized my complete inability to impress her or win her over. Instead of inspiring love, my desperate struggle only inspired her contempt.
A contempt I felt absolutely justified. For her I would have torn down every one of my values and virtues and beliefs for which I had built my life on. At times I willed myself into her world view and nearly even convinced myself of the existence of God, spirituality, and the base nature of physical desire.
In the hopelessness of helpless adoration and unreturned love I found the darkest depths I have ever known. What should have been the most glorious summer (four months traveling and living in Europe) became a constant struggle to stay emotionally stable. I filled the pages of my heavy journal with circular thoughts for which I continually struggled to disentangle my mind.
She refused to admit to herself or to me that she despised me. Instead she continually worked to open up her perspective so as to understand me and sympathize with me. But in the end, she always found me lacking. I saw the struggle and I hated us both for it.
It would have been easier if she had just discarded me as unwanted rather than trying so hard. Instead I could see her struggling to find something worth her love and instead finding nothing. If she had just allowed herself to be openly resentful of me for one second, I would have seen how much she despised me (whether she would admit to it or not), then I could have broken the shell of her divinity and seen her once again as human.
In my mind (and probably to herself) she represented the religious establishment for which I had spent so many years struggling against, my mother and my teachers who saw in me and my cohorts the redemption of humanity.
Piece by piece I rebuilt the foundations of my self-confidence. This time I used brick rather than wood. I will never again be driven to such utter despair by a woman.
Yes I will love again, boldly and without fear. But now I know the truth. It was never in her power to love me. It was only for me to accept.
I love many things that do not return my love. Do I despise the sunset for not loving me back? Do I despise the world?
What do others think of my answer?
She was the first girl I ever fell absolutely and completely in love with. I was lured by her intellect, passions, and overwhelming beauty. Her free laughter caught my heart and twisted. Her eyes seemed to catch my soul and study it.
I gave to her without reservation and in return she held me at arms length, inspiring my desire for her to be all the more overwhelming. In moments of romantic passion she would lower the barriers for a moment, but the next day I would always wake up to realize that she had thought things over and once again had pushed me away.
Even as she rejected me, my desire for her grew. I recognized in her aloofness a superiority for which I at once admired and hated. Just as I needed her more and more, I hated myself more and more as I recognized my complete inability to impress her or win her over. Instead of inspiring love, my desperate struggle only inspired her contempt.
A contempt I felt absolutely justified. For her I would have torn down every one of my values and virtues and beliefs for which I had built my life on. At times I willed myself into her world view and nearly even convinced myself of the existence of God, spirituality, and the base nature of physical desire.
In the hopelessness of helpless adoration and unreturned love I found the darkest depths I have ever known. What should have been the most glorious summer (four months traveling and living in Europe) became a constant struggle to stay emotionally stable. I filled the pages of my heavy journal with circular thoughts for which I continually struggled to disentangle my mind.
She refused to admit to herself or to me that she despised me. Instead she continually worked to open up her perspective so as to understand me and sympathize with me. But in the end, she always found me lacking. I saw the struggle and I hated us both for it.
It would have been easier if she had just discarded me as unwanted rather than trying so hard. Instead I could see her struggling to find something worth her love and instead finding nothing. If she had just allowed herself to be openly resentful of me for one second, I would have seen how much she despised me (whether she would admit to it or not), then I could have broken the shell of her divinity and seen her once again as human.
In my mind (and probably to herself) she represented the religious establishment for which I had spent so many years struggling against, my mother and my teachers who saw in me and my cohorts the redemption of humanity.
Piece by piece I rebuilt the foundations of my self-confidence. This time I used brick rather than wood. I will never again be driven to such utter despair by a woman.
Yes I will love again, boldly and without fear. But now I know the truth. It was never in her power to love me. It was only for me to accept.
I love many things that do not return my love. Do I despise the sunset for not loving me back? Do I despise the world?
What do others think of my answer?