Lately, I feel like I’ve been bursting at the seams from words unsaid. I feel like I need a million journals, and an AI assistant that can reach into my brain, read all my thoughts, unscramble them, and put them down on paper to make it make sense.
Here’s a start: I have beef with Desire.
I believe desire breeds resentment, loneliness, emptiness, and chaos.
I loathe the way desire presents itself as care or love. It is not.
It frustrates me the way that human emotion, and even unconscious biological and hormonal responses, contribute to a continued misunderstanding and misinterpretation of desire, attachment, and care.
I said something very eye-opening this evening, which helped me to unscramble my thoughts really well.
I no longer want to be desired.
I don’t want to be desired for my body (at any size). I don’t want to be desired for my “wisdom”. I no longer want to be desired for my dimples, or any other physical feature, and especially not my ass. I no longer want to be desired because I’m “exotic” or “unique”. I no longer want to be desired for “the light that you bring to my life”.
I don’t want attachment.
If you’re going to give me anything, give me love. Give me curiosity. Give me intentionality. Show me that you see me as a human being, who is being. Show me that you see the complexities of personhood that I am and have been. Show me that the same way that I dissect, question, and observe you, that you’re capable of returning that same focus back to me.
When desire takes lead over curiosity, it can leave one feeling lonely. Especially if you’ve developed a hope that you would be seen, truly seen, and cared for, for all that you are. But instead, there is an empty pit of longing that is only surface level. Instead, you feel used or “attained”, instead of yoked. It can be frustrating.
Desire is to women as money is to men.
If a woman is a gold-digger for wanting a man for his money, what does that make men who seek to possess women solely for the purpose of their desire (whether intentionally or subconsciously)?
Disclaimer: **Not all men, but typically men, and too many men.**
Attachment is also chaotic and problematic. But it’s such an easy trap to fall into.
Am I falling in love, or am I in a state of attachment?
Raise your hand if you’ve ever had to ask yourself that question.
It’s probably attachment. I could go on and on about the psychology and biology behind all of the things that breed attachment that can be mistaken for love. Sex, dopamine, constant communication, butterflies. All of the ways that your mind and body trick you into thinking you’re falling in love, but in reality, you’re just reacting to nerves and chaos.
You don’t need to question love.
I’ve been trying to remember what it felt like when I was optimistically giddy in love. I can’t. Because it isn’t manufactured. And I sadly haven’t felt it in quite a while.
But it’s been here.
What I have managed to remember is that I saw and appreciated the whole person before I fell in love. I knew them as a person navigating the world, understanding where they were coming from, how they were raised, why they were who they were, where they aimed to go in the world, what their fundamental beliefs were, what they desired in a partner, how they intended to show up as a partner, who they wanted to grow to be as a partner, whether they wanted to grow at all, how they actually showed up as a partner, and I felt that they took on the same challenge of knowing me. So I knew it was love, whether it came quickly or took a while.
What attachment does is give you a false sense of security with a person. It makes you feel like you can and will feel this feeling forever; like the feeling should be infallible. It makes you feel like you know this person, but once you lay out the knowledge that you truly have, you’ll likely find that it’s surface level.
Attachment likely also burns hot and burns fast. Then it burns out. And the chaos ensues. Mentally, emotionally, physically; cortisollllllllllllllllllll.
The other threat to love that desire brings is resentment.
Have you ever been “loved” (desired) for something that makes you who you are, and then it becomes an object of concern down the line? I love how independent you are, but now I’m insecure that you’re the breadwinner. I love how outspoken and strong you are, but now you’re pushing back at me too much. I love how caring you are, but now you’re being too sensitive and soft. I love how pretty you are, but now I have to “humble” you to keep you low enough for me to reach.
Have you ever seen true, genuine love? Have you ever seen two people, both equally as curious about one another, equally as patient and graceful with one another, equally as invested, equally as smitten, perfectly complementing each other, and in lockstep?
THAT is what I want. Intention and fervor. Depth. Humanity. Simplicity. To be seen as whole, and not an object. Breath, and space, and to be understood.
To be of service because I choose to be.
To be at ease because I need to be.
To rest and be seen.
To be chosen for the complexities, not just the 1 object of desire to be milked dry until I’m too exhausted.
For this to be the experience the first time around.
To stand in front of you and hear you recite the poem that is me, because you took the time to know. To nurture it. To enhance it.
To map it. To memorize it. To internalize it. To integrate with it.
To celebrate it.
The sum of all the parts.
I dare me to withdraw.
To be unmoved by empty words.
To be unwavering in the face of unproven promises.
I dare me to be questioning in the face of empty desire.
Z's Comfort Zone 