Today I am so very contrary. Anxiety keeps pinching my adrenal glands, giggling at the hormonal chaos that ensues. My mind betrays me further by throwing up too vivid snapshots of moments in the past that triggered this response. Yeah. Thanks for reminding me why Anxiety took up permanent residence in the first place. I’d forgotten. Not. (Yep. I talk like it’s still 1987.)
M asked me if I have an idea of when we should marry. I didn’t immediately answer. Instead, I instantly regressed to a 5-year-old mentality, then willed myself to mature back to adulthood. It was like passing an emotional kidney stone, but I managed. I’ve been low-level processing this question for months. I know what I want. I was afraid it wouldn’t match what M wants.
I used the whiteboard to outline my pros, cons, and an alternate option. It was a necessary bridge to the discussion that followed. I feel like I destroyed some of M’s innocence in the process. He’s never experienced the repercussions of being virtually owned by another entity. I don’t think it’s something people ponder unless it touches their lives.
I know many others have experienced the potential horror of seeking asylum from an abusive marriage by using 911. They too see how the attitudes and beliefs of individual law enforcement affect the justice for a perceived possession far more than any laws. They’ve probably also experienced medical professionals in their face asking why they don’t merely call the police; while glaring with accusing eyes.
I think M understands why paper beats rock, now. A paper marriage license almost got me killed last time. Experience outweighs statistics in this instance. I don’t want to do it again, even if my reasons are (now) irrational. I’d prefer creating a partnership that doesn’t involve the government. (Especially one that’s attempting to transition into The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.)
It disgusts me that in 2018, what is or isn’t between my legs has more influence over my life than any other factor on this planet. I know when people look at me, they’re automatically assessing my worth based on things for which I have no control. Many determine how to treat me, and whether I deserve respect or even life itself on the same basis. I’m an NPC (non-player character) in this vile game of fraudulence and domination.
I catch myself thinking about the citizens of Germany during the Holocaust of late. Visiting the Dachau concentration camp memorial in Bavaria transformed (and broke) me more than any other single event in my life so far. It’s likely why Anxiety is beating me about the head and neck. I’m a pattern finder. It’s no wonder I feel like I can’t catch my breath most of the time, these days.
M told me he wants to be my partner for life, and we can celebrate it however I want. I responded like a 13-year-old who just found out her crush like-likes her, including the pre-choreographed dance routine and high-pitched squee. Shutup. Heh. I’m relieved it didn’t turn out to be a case of, This is Where I Leave You (funny movie, btw.) I’m off to work on my vows for our untraditional partnership. 🙃 💜