6/24/24

Nobody wants to be the bad guy. If nothing else is true in the current climate of American culture, it's true that in almost every single scenario we find ourselves caring maybe a little too much about, there has to be somebody to blame. I'm not talking about occurrences that have an obvious cause and effect; politicians will always be bad people, governments will never care about every single civilian, and rich people will never care to understand other financial positions. But rather things like someone not liking that gay people exist, so they want to defund the education system, or disliking what's in the news, so blame it on the Jews controlling the media. No matter what happens, there is someone who experienced something they didn't like and someone who caused it. In the same vein, we do this on an individual level, blaming one person or large groups of people for things that exist in our lives that make us unhappy. Of course, there are more than enough situations for this line of thinking to be justified, and it makes sense that, when we are hurt, we look for something that caused it. My argument is that it isn't always so black and white. 

I care a great deal about most things. I've written previously about the pet peeve that is "nonchalant" -ness, and how much it angers me to exist in this generation that seems to idealize the premise that not caring somehow makes you free of embarrassment and judgment. I think a lot of that belief stems from an almost jealous part of me, who longs for the freedom of not caring about every little thing. But the fact of the matter is I do, and almost to a point where it becomes something that deters others from getting terribly close to me, at least for extended periods of time. I care about the tone in your text, and I care when you don't seem as excited to see me as you were the day before. I think about it and spiral, and before I'm even aware, I'm crying over someone who did something with zero malicious intent and turning myself into a victim when I never was. This hyper fixation on having someone to blame I feel is present in almost every situation, but especially relationships. In every breakup, or at least most, it was something the other did that caused the split. Their ex was crazy and that's why they cheated, or their ex cheated on them because they "loved too hard". But, as much as I want to say the person I talked to last was an evil person, someone who set out to hurt me and set my self-growth journey back 15 steps, that simply is not the case. As much as I don't want him to remember me as clingy or mopey or crazy, I cant only remember him as someone who went out of their way to ghost me.

 I recently had a conversation with Katie that spurred this whole thought process. I've never had the most positive relationship with sex, if that isn't obvious enough in past blogs I've written about the subject. I don't typically enjoy hookups, I'm not one to force a relationship, and sex itself is not something I automatically feel comfortable with. It takes time, and assurance, and more than anything else, it takes a lot of trust. But in the past year, I've given myself a break from thinking about it. When I initially lost my virginity and my sex life was born, it was a feeling of having to catch up. Everyone else had lost theirs already, they knew what they liked, they knew what they didn't, and even more important, yet something I tended to overlook, they enjoyed the sex they were having. Because of this, I found myself in a lot of situations in which the person I am now would not be caught dead simply because it felt like that was what was supposed to happen. We met, I went to his house, we fucked, I left. Did he ever tell me it was just a hookup? No. Did I know that was the plan? No. But after a year, I find myself beginning to open back up to the idea, and allowing myself the time and room to find what it is I want in sex, in a partner, in a hookup; how can I start enjoying it? Last week, I broke my year-long streak of celibacy, and for the first time in my life, found myself explaining what I like, what I don't, and what I want. For the first time, I was able to find enjoyment out of it for more than knowing that the other person was enjoying it. As I told Katie and Abby this, I explained that, though I may not be there yet, I'm excited to find this new part of myself that is capable of having sex without it being an event. Katie then responded with her side of things. She talked about how she is beginning to realize that, not all, but a lot of the relationships we've found ourselves in, romantic or not, have been skewed by a need to point fingers. I think in a lot of relationships, the ending often gets scorned by the emotions of it all, who broke up with who and why being the key signifier of who receives sympathy and who gets blocked by friends in common. 

An important distinction to make in this argument is that I'm not in any way advocating for the position that there is never anyone to blame for things. There often is, and feeling victimized by someone else's actions is in no way an inherently bad thing. However, I think there is ample room for conversations regarding how victimized one may feel, especially for those born between 1996 and 2006 who seem to be especially affixed to never being the bad guy. It seems easier in many ways to victimize ourselves rather than face the predicament we find ourselves in. In my last little fling, we were a solid month in before issues began to arise. He grew distant, I explained it felt that way, but that didn't change anything, I went a little coo-coo, and he ghosted. It was easy for me to feel like he went out of his way to hurt me, I had given him every opportunity to take a step back away that didn't leave me wondering what I did wrong, and it felt like he actively chose the path with the least resistance instead of being a man capable of having a tough conversation. But Katie's thoughts stirred something in me that left me reconsidering, not only him but all of my past flings. He was avoiding being what he felt made him the bad guy - telling me he wasn't interested - because it is always easier in those kinds of situations to be the one who got left in the dirt; nobody wants to own up to getting bored with another person. But just as much fear as he had of being the bad guy, I was equally guilty of such cowardice. I had every opportunity to just stop responding, to tell him "This isn't what I want anymore I'm done" and call it good. But the fear of misreading the situation, "maybe he does still like me and is just busy", kept me from avoiding the painful end of it all. In his mind, he was most likely just as upset at my behavior as I was his. I was needy and clingy, embarrassingly so, and I became the bad guy in his eyes just as he did in mine. It took me until this weekend to realize that the issue I was having, not only with just him but regarding every single negative interaction I've ever had in my entire life, is that I put myself in a position to be a victim. The reason why is up for debate. Whether it stems from a place of attention seeking, or simply not gaining the perspective to see the situation from both sides, it doesn't matter. But it's something I notice in myself, and others, especially in relationships.

I don't think that is a bad thing, or that I was not a victim in that, or most, relationships I've been in. I've been treated badly, frequently, by men, which is an experience more than enough people have related to. The issue and argument I put forth is that it isn't necessary to view it in that way. I don't have "ops" I have past relationships that ended because we were different people. And I think that is an aspect of any relationship that is often overlooked. We can like the same music, have the same morals and values, same life goals, same career path, but sometimes you're just different people. This sucks, obviously, especially when you don't want to be different people, so the "rational" line of thinking is to come up with a reason why you never could make it work. We victimize ourselves not because we want sympathy, or because we think the world is against us, but because we recognize both the pros and cons of ourselves, the beauty we possess in our hearts, and we know we have good intentions and benefits to being around us. So we make up reasons why someone wouldn't be, and a lot of the time they are right. Sometimes the person is genuinely evil, and no matter who you are it wouldn't have worked out, but sometimes you just but heads, and as much as it is not easy to accept, you're no more or less a victim than the other person is. It's ok to be a beautiful, smart, funny, charming, person, and still not find the right fit yet. It doesn't mean you're broke, and it also doesn't mean they are. You're just two people who tried and failed and moved on. 

The last thing I'll leave with you is a side note. I'm aware that my use of the word "victim" can conjure up some specific scenarios. In no way am I saying that you make yourself the victim, or that everyone in this generation is sensitive. There are more than enough situations we find ourselves in in which the other person genuinely is just a bad person, and treats you badly when you did not in any way deserve it. What I am saying is that I think we put a lot of unfair weight on a lot of people. It's okay to part ways.