Week Eighteen: Walking Away from a Relationship - Two Stories
The longest relationship that anyone will ever have is the relationship with themselves. People are often, though not always, selfish, sightless creatures. Believe me when I say that I am not exempt from this. I have my moments. The point of all this is that people will let you down because they're, well, people. This is not a pessimistic view but rather a practical one. You'll always have you. And perhaps it's my fiercely independent spirit speaking here but I generally believe in making time to invest in yourself as the strongest relationship, thereby setting the foundation for all other relationships to come after.
And sometimes setting this precedent also means letting go of the toxic people in your life. Let me tell you two stories: one of my own and one not.
An inconceivable amount of moons ago, I met someone online. A charming, obviously talented writer who would over the course of many years turn out to be one of my very closest friends. Though the exact memory of how we met is fuzzy, I want to say it was long enough ago that we met on a chat forum for writers. Call it a late hangover from the early days of the internet where us old folks would go online to talk to strangers. And let's be honest: IRC rooms were the absolute tits back in the day. It was in this tiny corner of the internet that I met this person and we instantly bonded over our love of the written word.
We've shared nearly everything over the years, managing to stay close despite our distance (he lives several states away): partners, changes in scenery, changes in jobs, frustrations, celebrations. You name it, we talked about it. He's always managed to be one of my first confidantes for just about everything. Roughly two years ago, however, something, or more appropriately, someone shifted. This friend of mine started dating someone who, for lack of a better explanation, was a soul sucking vampire who not only took the life out of him but the life out of everyone else, too. Though I'm not big on people as a whole, I find it very telling that the one time I met this person, I took an instant dislike towards her, a fact which I mentioned openly and honestly. I'd like to think that my judgement is pretty good. It goes without saying that after a period of time, they broke up, which not only left my friend devastated because his entire life had been uprooted for her (he moved to the other side of the country so she could pursue a job she wanted), but disheartened at the whole notion of dating.
I consider myself to be a good friend; perhaps not the best friend in the whole world (seriously--my three best friends can absolutely attest to how much of a handful I can be sometimes), but a good friend with a good heart in general. I take care of my people, I look after them, I support them. And over the last couple of years, while I've dealt with picking up the pieces of my friends shattered life and self image, I've been consistently supportive.
But here's the thing about all relationships: they require effort from all parties.
For nearly the last two years, I have been there to support my friend, validate his anger and his hurt and his apprehension with dating. I was even on board when he basically said (and I'm paraphrasing here) "I'm not sure I ever want to date again because dating [name redacted] basically made me view women as objects; I'd rather just fuck 'em and dump 'em", my response for which was something on the lines of "Okay, I understand why you feel the way you feel and there's nothing wrong with casual sex. Perhaps spend some time evaluating why you're viewing women as objects right now".
It's complicated, yes. I've watched as he basically cycled through women, chasing person after person trying to find that unattainable thing that made him feel worthy, likely trying to convince himself that he was worth loving or worth investing in.
At some point though, the person that you love, who clearly doesn't love themselves, will take advantage of you. And that's how I felt. I've been the pillar, the sounding board for my friends anger and I got tired of it. I got tired of hearing him bitch about how much he hated women, and I got tired of hearing him complain about how much [name redacted] ruined his life and I got tired of feeling like the only reason he ever spoke with me is so he could lament his lot. You just get tired. Why continue putting in effort into a relationship when they won't listen, when they don't reciprocate, when they don't invest in you the same way you're investing in them?
So, that's what I did. I stopped putting in effort. It's been my experience that walking away is the best thing you can do when someone that you love isn't treating you lovingly and with respect and with the kind of effort that you deserve.
And it really sucks.
Nothing would make me happier than seeing my friend happy, having let go of the anger and hurt he's been experiencing for two years. But that's not going to happen unless he lets it. The best thing I can do is walk away because I deserve better. I deserve to have a friend who puts in the effort.
As mentioned, I believe in self love first. Everything else can come later.
Which brings me to story number two. I'll keep this one a bit shorter if I can.
Love is a powerful thing. One of my favorite people once said "love makes us do the wacky" which includes a wide spectrum of stupid, stupid things. I think it's fair to venture that one of these stupid things is staying in a relationship with someone who doesn't respect you.
I recognize that my lens of self preservation above all other things may be tainting my view here but I have a hard time imaging myself ever staying with someone who consistently puts themselves first, who doesn't communicate lovingly or respectfully, and consistently chooses harmful things.
I'm talking, of course, about my family. For quite a while now, I've avoided this topic because I felt like it wasn't my story to tell, and maybe it's still not, but it's important to tell it either way. So, here goes: my dad is an alcoholic.
It certainly isn't the first time in the world that someone has had this problem and it definitely won't be the last. For the sake of brevity, I'll give you the condensed version because this blog is getting long even for me.
My biological parents divorced when I was around six. It's often the case that when I'm speaking of my parents, I'm talking about my mom and step-dad because they're the ones who raised me. For the last twenty years my parents have been together, Dad has always had a drinking problem. While he's managed to more or less "keep it in check", it's been in recent years that his drinking has gotten much, much worse. Sometimes, he's drunk in the morning before work. Sometimes, he's drunk at work. And he's always drunk in the evenings. In the last six years, he's had four seizures directly related to his drinking and even after his doctor explicitly, in no uncertain terms, told him that he needed to stop, he refuses to quit.
It's perhaps not terribly surprising that my dad and I don't get along terribly well because of anyone in the family, I am the most vocal and often the most outspoken about his drinking. When he's drunk, which is always, he's mean, thoughtless, reckless, rude, disrespectful, lazy, angry. Suffice to say I'm not shy in speaking my distaste for the matter. To put some of you at ease, I am well aware that alcohol addiction has serious genetic components and is in fact a disease, but that doesn't mean that I have to be any less vocal about it. As a point of interest, since I've been home, Dad and I have fought exactly two times because of his drinking and as a result of which he hasn't spoken to me in months. His own daughter. And we live in the same house.
I know that there are things about my parents marriage I don't understand and never can. But universe willing, I hope I am never in the position of having to live with someone, much less be married to someone, who respects me so little and loves his addiction more than his family. I should hope that I would love myself enough to walk away.
At the end of the day, a decision that is right for me won't be right for someone else; I understand that. Nothing would make me happier than seeing my dad sober but it's never going to happen. He will end up killing himself or killing someone else before anything changes and right now, I choose to walk away. Sometimes loving someone means cutting them out because they're toxic and they have to make their own mistakes, live with the consequences of their choices.
Maybe that's what I'll have to do. Till next week when the topic is much less dire.
And sometimes setting this precedent also means letting go of the toxic people in your life. Let me tell you two stories: one of my own and one not.
An inconceivable amount of moons ago, I met someone online. A charming, obviously talented writer who would over the course of many years turn out to be one of my very closest friends. Though the exact memory of how we met is fuzzy, I want to say it was long enough ago that we met on a chat forum for writers. Call it a late hangover from the early days of the internet where us old folks would go online to talk to strangers. And let's be honest: IRC rooms were the absolute tits back in the day. It was in this tiny corner of the internet that I met this person and we instantly bonded over our love of the written word.
We've shared nearly everything over the years, managing to stay close despite our distance (he lives several states away): partners, changes in scenery, changes in jobs, frustrations, celebrations. You name it, we talked about it. He's always managed to be one of my first confidantes for just about everything. Roughly two years ago, however, something, or more appropriately, someone shifted. This friend of mine started dating someone who, for lack of a better explanation, was a soul sucking vampire who not only took the life out of him but the life out of everyone else, too. Though I'm not big on people as a whole, I find it very telling that the one time I met this person, I took an instant dislike towards her, a fact which I mentioned openly and honestly. I'd like to think that my judgement is pretty good. It goes without saying that after a period of time, they broke up, which not only left my friend devastated because his entire life had been uprooted for her (he moved to the other side of the country so she could pursue a job she wanted), but disheartened at the whole notion of dating.
I consider myself to be a good friend; perhaps not the best friend in the whole world (seriously--my three best friends can absolutely attest to how much of a handful I can be sometimes), but a good friend with a good heart in general. I take care of my people, I look after them, I support them. And over the last couple of years, while I've dealt with picking up the pieces of my friends shattered life and self image, I've been consistently supportive.
But here's the thing about all relationships: they require effort from all parties.
For nearly the last two years, I have been there to support my friend, validate his anger and his hurt and his apprehension with dating. I was even on board when he basically said (and I'm paraphrasing here) "I'm not sure I ever want to date again because dating [name redacted] basically made me view women as objects; I'd rather just fuck 'em and dump 'em", my response for which was something on the lines of "Okay, I understand why you feel the way you feel and there's nothing wrong with casual sex. Perhaps spend some time evaluating why you're viewing women as objects right now".
It's complicated, yes. I've watched as he basically cycled through women, chasing person after person trying to find that unattainable thing that made him feel worthy, likely trying to convince himself that he was worth loving or worth investing in.
At some point though, the person that you love, who clearly doesn't love themselves, will take advantage of you. And that's how I felt. I've been the pillar, the sounding board for my friends anger and I got tired of it. I got tired of hearing him bitch about how much he hated women, and I got tired of hearing him complain about how much [name redacted] ruined his life and I got tired of feeling like the only reason he ever spoke with me is so he could lament his lot. You just get tired. Why continue putting in effort into a relationship when they won't listen, when they don't reciprocate, when they don't invest in you the same way you're investing in them?
So, that's what I did. I stopped putting in effort. It's been my experience that walking away is the best thing you can do when someone that you love isn't treating you lovingly and with respect and with the kind of effort that you deserve.
And it really sucks.
Nothing would make me happier than seeing my friend happy, having let go of the anger and hurt he's been experiencing for two years. But that's not going to happen unless he lets it. The best thing I can do is walk away because I deserve better. I deserve to have a friend who puts in the effort.
As mentioned, I believe in self love first. Everything else can come later.
Which brings me to story number two. I'll keep this one a bit shorter if I can.
Love is a powerful thing. One of my favorite people once said "love makes us do the wacky" which includes a wide spectrum of stupid, stupid things. I think it's fair to venture that one of these stupid things is staying in a relationship with someone who doesn't respect you.
I recognize that my lens of self preservation above all other things may be tainting my view here but I have a hard time imaging myself ever staying with someone who consistently puts themselves first, who doesn't communicate lovingly or respectfully, and consistently chooses harmful things.
I'm talking, of course, about my family. For quite a while now, I've avoided this topic because I felt like it wasn't my story to tell, and maybe it's still not, but it's important to tell it either way. So, here goes: my dad is an alcoholic.
It certainly isn't the first time in the world that someone has had this problem and it definitely won't be the last. For the sake of brevity, I'll give you the condensed version because this blog is getting long even for me.
My biological parents divorced when I was around six. It's often the case that when I'm speaking of my parents, I'm talking about my mom and step-dad because they're the ones who raised me. For the last twenty years my parents have been together, Dad has always had a drinking problem. While he's managed to more or less "keep it in check", it's been in recent years that his drinking has gotten much, much worse. Sometimes, he's drunk in the morning before work. Sometimes, he's drunk at work. And he's always drunk in the evenings. In the last six years, he's had four seizures directly related to his drinking and even after his doctor explicitly, in no uncertain terms, told him that he needed to stop, he refuses to quit.
It's perhaps not terribly surprising that my dad and I don't get along terribly well because of anyone in the family, I am the most vocal and often the most outspoken about his drinking. When he's drunk, which is always, he's mean, thoughtless, reckless, rude, disrespectful, lazy, angry. Suffice to say I'm not shy in speaking my distaste for the matter. To put some of you at ease, I am well aware that alcohol addiction has serious genetic components and is in fact a disease, but that doesn't mean that I have to be any less vocal about it. As a point of interest, since I've been home, Dad and I have fought exactly two times because of his drinking and as a result of which he hasn't spoken to me in months. His own daughter. And we live in the same house.
I know that there are things about my parents marriage I don't understand and never can. But universe willing, I hope I am never in the position of having to live with someone, much less be married to someone, who respects me so little and loves his addiction more than his family. I should hope that I would love myself enough to walk away.
At the end of the day, a decision that is right for me won't be right for someone else; I understand that. Nothing would make me happier than seeing my dad sober but it's never going to happen. He will end up killing himself or killing someone else before anything changes and right now, I choose to walk away. Sometimes loving someone means cutting them out because they're toxic and they have to make their own mistakes, live with the consequences of their choices.
Maybe that's what I'll have to do. Till next week when the topic is much less dire.
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