femme-liberee

[femme-liberee]

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here. Partly because I didn’t feel the urge to write everything down here, because i’ve started writing on paper, and maybe also partly because I’ve been suppressing some feelings.

I don’t know if it has anything to do with the way I feel right now (and have been feeling lately), but since I’ve started taking the pill, I’ve been feeling like a ticking emotional bomb 24/7. It feels like every little thing that happens to me, is enough to make me sad. I feel a little silly admitting this, but I really can’t help it.

And ofcourse, the real reason I’m writing here again: I managed to put myself in a shitty situation, once again. starting to think it’s a talent of mine. I went on two dates with a guy, whom I knew in advance it wouldn’t work out. Of course, I went anyways (I don’t really know why though), and I think I kind of got used to not being alone and knowing that “someone cares (someone else than my friends). Or even: knowing that someone is into me. I hate admitting this, but the feeling is quite soothing. And once you’re used to it, it’s not easy letting go.

But I knew I had to. I put it off for a couple of days, but I couldn’t handle the frustrations anymore. So, I decided to be honnest and I told him it wouldn’t work out between us. I thought it would be easy, but I’ve been feeling a bit down ever since I told him. I know he didn’t have any potential for me, but I guess the being alone, once again, hits harder than I expect it to, even if I’m used to it by now.

It’s a tough choice, what is worse: turning someone down? Or being turned down?

Sometimes, I feel like I seek for flaws in boys, so that I can end it quickly. But then again: I often wait for them to turn me down, so it’s hard to tell if I really do. Maybe I really am a romantic masochist: waiting for pain in “love” if I can even call it that, since I have never gotten further than two dates... 

[femme-liberee]

i’ve come to the conclusion that people are selfish.

and also, i have to stop having high expectations. not only it makes the disappointment harder, but also, it’s naïve and stupid. i have to stop. it sounds terribly cliché, but in the end, the only person you can rely on, is yourself. you cannot imaginarily put your heart in someone else’s hands and expect your wishes to come true. neither can you expect from people they’ll do for you what you would blindly do for them. unfortunately, that’s just not how people work. and i have to start realizing that. 

[femme-liberee]

a year later

Here I am again, writing to no one but myself. 

a lot has happened since the last time i wrote someting: i met a lot of shitty guys (as usual), a couple of weeks after my last post, my social life stopped existing (a big thank you to corona), i had the most amazing holiday in Italie with my forever best friend... About that friend, we made one hell of a duo: two single, independent and splendid 20 year olds. we managed to make people believe we were the coolest, happiest, most adventurous, smartest, strong women. i say make believe, but aren’t we really? to be honest, i believe we are: we explore, we enjoy, we make mistakes, over all: we live our lifes to the fullest, without regrets (or at least we try). and isn’t that what it’s all about. 

i have come to the conclusion that she was the perfect person to feel, experience and do all these things with. it wouldn’t have been even a slice better if it would have been with my ‘soulmate’, my ‘other half’. what if there is no such thing? as the main character in Into the Wild says: “happiness only real when shared”. in a way, he is definitely right, but i strongly feel the “shared” doesn’t necessarily have to refer to a person whom you’re in love with. 

the other day, i had a (philosophical) discussion with two friends (L and J), and we were talking about ‘le bonheur ultime’. in their opinion, they will only feel it once they will have found their other half. love, romantic love more precisely, is an absolute condition to make it to the ultimate feeling of happiness according to them. 

but, as my quarantine lasts, i’m starting to wonder: is my bonheur ultime conditionned by finding my one true love? i doubt it. 

i haven’t felt that kind of love (yet) (and i’m starting to doubt i ever will; maybe no one’s worthy of that kind of love, or at least that kind of love, felt AND expressed - because let’s face it: there is chance (quite a big one, even) i will fall in love one day, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that person will be worthy of my love (i hope love won’t make me a fool and i still will have some self respect when D-day arrives. love can be felt, expression of it, on the other hand, mustn’t happen if the person’s a total shithead) by me) and i have been perfectly happy my whole life (on an average base: everyone has their moments of emotional depths, that’s undeniable). 

there’s another important thing that happened to me, that i haven’t mentionned so far: i had sex. i mean real sex. after 20 years. and it was... well pretty fucking basic. when i think about it, it feel nothing. i can’t say i chose the wrong guy, the wrong moment, the wrong way: none of that was the case: we met on a dating platform (the sucky part of the whole stry), he’s very nice, older, not very attractive, but, as cliché as it may sound: he has a beautiful soul and is very smart: we went for a very long autumn walk in the woods, he asked me to go back to his place, bought me sushi and a bottle of red wine, and then we sat there, with his room mate, drinking, listening to old vinyls. when his room mate decided to go to bed, hE kissed me, on ‘sweater weather’. we talked a bit more, and he asked me to kiss him, with ‘another love’ in the background. so i did. 

i guess i saw it coming. it had to happen, at last. he was very kind, gentle, empathic (the circumstances weren’t really ‘perfect’, if you know what i mean, but he understood and made sure i felt comfortable). and then it happened. i even closed my eyes a couple of times. i don’t think that’s a good sign, but i think a part of me wanted to deny what was really happening (and the fact that my expecations weren’t met at all (maybe they will, it was the first time so there’s some space to grow) and with who, although there’s nothing wrong with him. he did it slowly, made sure he didn’t hurt me. and then it was over. 

just like that. 

no fireworks, no amazing feeling, no ‘feeling more connected to the world’, none of that crap. i lied there for a while. a tear even rolled down my cheek. he held me, we talked for a bit, and then he fell asleep. and that was that. i didn’t sleep that night, or certainly not much. i thought about my life, about men, about my feelings. but i don’t think i regret it. it had to happen some day, and it did. so that’s a good thing. not the best story to tell my children (or my friends, they don’t know about it yet and i don’t know if they’ll ever know the details). 

i kind of like keeping it to myself. it makes it more real, but also more unreal. as long as i haven’t told anyone, it hasn’t really happened, or it has, but it’s my little secret. i don’t know...

i do feel weird about the guy though. i don’t like him. or i do, but not really in a romantic way. i know i want him to send me something, but not for the romantic reasons. just for my ego. so that i know he slightly interested in me. not in an ‘in love way’, but that he thinks i’m sexy enough to sleep with again, or fun enough to spend the day with one more time. i don’t think it’ll be much more that 1 time, if we ever meet again. i just feel it. i can’t really describe it. 

i know it’s bad, but i can’t help thinking like that. and no one knows about my thoughts except for me, so it doesn’t matter. a part of me assumes he’ll send me something, but a part of me thinks he wont. i wouldn’t really mind, emotionally, but my ego, my ‘woman side’ would: a woman wants to feel desired, or i do at least, that’s for sure. i don’t say it aloud, but i feel it. i try my best to suppress this feeling though. i know it’s a bad one. with hard work and training, i’ll manage to ban that kind of feelings from my thoughts. plus, i strongly believe women are wanted to feel shitty after sex, that goddamned society! i even think he knows i still think about what happened, and he knows that i’d feel better if he’d send me a message. but he doesn’t, just because he can. because he knows he has that little grip of power over me. i bet all men enjoy it. that’s why i have decided i won’t let him, or any man for that matter, have that power over me. i am just as strong as them in this kind of situation. if you don’t let it get to you, it simply doesn’t. (i think i have just found the key to the mystery of men, halleluja!!)

i’ve decided that if i don’t hear from him, i’ll start exploring the world of sex by my own, with different men. i don’t know how i’m going to meet them yet, but i’ll have to find a solution soon enough. i’ll also have to convince them to teach me stuff, but i’m hoping that won’t be too hard.

i don’t want to give the guy a deadline either. if he wants to see (or sleep, because that’s really why he’d want to see me again) me again, he’ll send me something. when and how, that, i don’t know, but time will tell (or wont! isn’t life so very exciting!). 

there is, however, something i’ll never forget. the things he said, were the exact right things to say at that moment. he told me two things i will love and cherrish forever: 

- this spot right here, i’ve just discovered it, but i already like it. it feels like it has been made only to put my hand in it. 

- you looked beautiful. 

i might have scared him with silly things i said in the morning, but hey, if he didn’t like what i said, he’s not ready for me and all that comes with. 

and that’s fine. 

once again (i repeat it because i don’t want to confuse my future self, when rereading this, bc i know i will): i DON’T have romantic feelings for him. i just want him to want to see me again, because - once again - i’m only human. and humans want to please. i don’t even know if i would say yes if he were to ask me. i probably would, but then i’d slightly regret it (i’d probably not even really enjoy the sex part), because i know i would be doing it for the wrong reason: because i simply have no other men right now. 

and i’ve come to realize that that is the reason women do the things they do most of the time: they settle for unworthy men, bad treatment, and even for men who don’t interest them, just because; there; is; no; one; else. and how unfortunate is that? does there REALLY always have to be someone. we’re already abso-fuking-lutely amazing on our own. so why oh why do we need men to confirm that, to make us feel what we (already) are: just great? 

it’s about time i start changing that for my self. it’s stupid, a waiste of time, energy, brain space and a whole lot more. in conclusion: i don’t always need a man in my life (a man in general - the man can be an abstract character (which is even more absurd, but not less true): a man i think about, a man i want to look good for, a man i want to impress, a man i want to hear from again... any kind of man really). a no man period in life is also a period, just without a man. and that doesn’t make the period any less interesting. period. 

also, it’s not because i don’t want to please the male gaze anymore (or not all the time, bc i’ll need to please it if i want to become a sexual discoverer) that i can’t/don’t have to look fabulous anymore. i’m going to work on myself (body AND way i feel about myself) for me, and no one else. 

sidenote: that being said, a no man period does not include sexual experimenting. since i am at the beginning of my sexual rollercoaster, i feel the urge to get out there and find my inner sexual animal (i hope it will be any good, because so far i can’t say i’m very impressed. the mandem has got some impressing to do, i say). 

[femme-liberee]

[femme-liberee]

I look for your soul in everyone I meet. 

[femme-liberee]

The milk train doesn’t stop here, by Tennessee Williams

Has it ever struck you that life is all memory? Except for the one present moment, that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going. 

[femme-liberee]

The water always comes back to kiss the shore, no matter how many times it has been sent away. 

[femme-liberee]

THE MEMORIES KEEPER’S DAUGHTER

“The word “camera”, comes from the Latin word “room”. Each person lives “in camera”: in a room full of secrets.”

“The things that remain unseen, are eternal.”

“It’s about perception. It’s about hiding things that are visible.”

“”In camera” means in secret. But photography does the opposite: it reveals what is hidden.”

[femme-liberee]

“To be frank, I think his world had vanished long before he ever entered it. But I will say, he certainly sustained the illusion with marvelous grace.” (The Grand Budapest Hotel)

[femme-liberee]

“Debut décembre, à Buenos Aires Un soir d'été, sur l'autre hémisphère.”

[femme-liberee]

The song that made me realize this, too late, but better late than never: 

Sometimes, I guess you just need to take some time for yourself, in order to process the fact that not eveything goes the way you deserved. And it’s okay to feel shitty about it. 

A list of stuff that happened to me (emotionally), but I didn’t deserve: my first heartbreak (I think I can call it that, two years later still thinking about it), the cancelled meeting with my perfect “wrong timing man”, the fact that he found somebody (even though he deserves it), the fact that I always overinvest in my relationships (mostly with boys, but sometimes even with girls), the fact that I always pick the wrong ones, even when I know it won’t end well. 

They say that you pick people you can’t have, because you’re emotionally unavailable. I always used to think that wasn’t the case, but during this lockdown, I’m starting to wonder: am I even ready and looking for something. Will I ever be able to commit? Am I even capable of really falling in love? Is anyone that loveable? Am I ready to compromise? 

But if I’m not seeking and unavailable, why does my first bad memory keep bugging me and still hurt sometimes, even if it’s just a little. 

[femme-liberee]

Sometimes I wonder where I took a wrong turn when it comes to boys. Or when it comes to love in general. Do I not express myself well? Do I express myself too much? Why doesn’t romantic love happen to me. 

And the main question: why do we live in a time where girls who show effort don’t stand a chance? I just don’t get it!

[femme-liberee]

Late night quotes

“Beauty remains, even in misfortune” (Anne Frank). 

“Sorry I’m late. It took me forever to get here.” (College Attitude)

“Perhaps our biggest crime is only appreciating moments once they have become memories.” 

“We define love the way we experienced it.” 

“Sometimes aweful things can have their own kind of beauty.” 

“The world is a stage, and all men and women nearly players.” (William Shakespeare)

“We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it, if it were not the earth where the same flowers come up again every spring that we used to gather with our tiny fingers as we sat lisping to ourselves on the grass, the same hips and haws on the autumn hedgerows, the same redbreasts that we used to call ‘God’s birds’ because they did no harm to the precious crops. What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known and loved because it is known?” (George Eliot - The Mill on the Floss)

“Love doesn’t hurt you. A person who doesn’t know how to love does.” (Unknown)

[femme-liberee]

“I have yet to be someone’s everything.”

[femme-liberee]

Forever my escape song. Because in the next second, we’re in another moment. And time doesn’t exist. . . 

[femme-liberee]

“Nothing’s ever really dead, if you like at it right.” (Death, Colleteral beauty)

“The people you love become ghosts inside of you and like this, you keep them alive”

“Maybe home is where the heart is given up to the one” (Live, They Stood Up for Love)