Feelings… stupid frigging feelings…

That title goes with some tune but I don’t have any idea what ~~ oh, wait! Yes, I do. It’s this one. Duh, it’s Feelings. Don’t feel like you gotta listen to it, I don’t even like it.

And the part I hear in my head doesn’t come in until about 1:25, which is a long time to wait for it. It’s the “Feelings, woah oooohhh, feelings,” it’s that part. And, full disclosure, the version that played in my head as I wrote the title is the way my first ex husband used to sing it, which was “Feeeeelings… mother-fucking feeeelings…”

Anyhow. That was probably TMI but, you know, this has become my journal.

So this thing happened tonight and I’m having a bunch of feelings about it and that was just the prelude. I had just tucked the grands in, my daughter was on an important work call, and I heard the car panic alarm going off. MP was in the back of the house, just standing up, but as I grabbed my keys, he commented that he hoped nobody had tried to break into the car.

So I step outside and click the remote til the alarm goes off. Then I think I should go make sure the windows weren’t broken or anything. So I went out and the inside lights were still on so I waited for them to go off and they didn’t so I got in the car to see what was wrong with them and I suddenly realized that I was out here in the car at night alone checking to see if there was a burglar and how did I know there wasn’t somebody in the shadows waiting for me?

I glanced up at the house, thinking I’d see MP in the window, but I didn’t see him and for just a second I was really scared. Then I shrugged, no point in being scared, and the rear car door was ajar so I fixed that and made sure the lights went out and locked it and went back in the house.

MP was in the back of the house (our part of the house) watching TV and eating yogurt. He looked up when I got back there and put my keys away. I realized at that moment that I was really hurt that he hadn’t been watching out the window. So I said something to him about being glad there wasn’t a burglar out there and I’d thought he would have been watching out for me.

And he said he was watching out for me, that he had been watching for me and I figure he meant he would have noticed if I didn’t come back in a really long time. I let it go cause I was fine and there wasn’t any point in going on about it.

But now I’m having this internal disagreement. One part of me just shrugs it off and reminds me that I come from a long line of strong women who can take of themselves and I sure as hell don’t need anybody looking out for me in my own front yard, even if it is dark. That part of me just laughs and thinks about the lines from Ani diFranco:

“I don’t need anyone to hold me, I can hold my own.”
― Ani DiFranco

The other part of me. the woman who wants to be cherished and treasured and protected. is a bit heartbroken. That part of me didn’t expect him to come outside or anything, (he does have mobility issues) but I kinda thought he would watch from the window to make sure I was safe. And for a minute, I am just crushed.

What it means to me is that he doesn’t see me as needing protection. Yes, it’s like I lost my woman card. I am a woman who has always enjoyed it when men open doors for me or ask if I need help carrying that heavy thing. I am a trans ally, but personally I’m about 99% cisgender. And submissive on top of it. I’m not a girly-girl, but I’ve always felt like a woman. Suddenly, it felt like that whole part of me was dead. If nobody acknowledges it, does it even exist?

Well. I guess I didn’t need that part anyhow, right? Or – quoting my girl Ani again:

“The bathroom mirror has not budged, the woman who lives there can tell the truth from the stuff they say and looks me in the eye- says do you prefer the easy way? No? Well ok then, dont cry.”
― Ani DiFranco

15 thoughts on “Feelings… stupid frigging feelings…

    • Yes. You are absolutely right – I can cry if I want to! (It’s my party, right?) I often think that Ani just means “don’t cry for the life you’ve chosen.” But yeah, mourning is real. 💜

      Liked by 1 person

  1. oh honey I feel you.

    i’m mostly on my own taking care of people around me and sorting out all the shit so I totally get upset when the man has a perfect chance to “protect” me and fails to do so.

    Maybe you should just stop being the strong independent woman for a minute and tell him so. Well, be strong enough to tell him so. I dunno. It’s kinda self-contradictory.


    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, fondles, I appreciate the support so much!! And I know you get it!

      You’re right about the conversation too. And I had every intention of doing that – until he responded to my opening line by saying he had been watching out for me. And I didn’t know where to go from there. I thought about it afterwards, but i still don’t know how I’d re-open it. Shrug… it’s not that I always have to be strong…

      Thanks for the hugs… 💜


  2. Olivia dear, I am a strong, independent woman who’s lived single the majority of my life. I’m totally capable of managing everything on my own. My mother raised me to be that woman. It’s that very independence which makes it so meaningful when a man holds the door for me, puts the heavy pot in the oven and makes sure I’m safe. They’re acts of love. Honor the hurt and disappointment. ♥ Your feelings are totally valid. We all experience them… Big Hugs!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. You can hold your own and still want someone to take the reins on occasion and it is a huge cultural element there of being taught that the pretty lady needs protection from all and apparent risks. You acknowledge it/identify , so it does exist. A lot to sort through there, for sure.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.