never married, over forty, a little bitter

the unavailable

When a Mr Unavailable or assclown rejects ‘you’, it is actually more about rejecting:

having to love

having to communicate

having to be emotionally available

having to care

having to empathise

having to recognise someone’s needs other than their own

having to be trusted

having to be relied upon

having to be respectful

having to recognise your boundaries

having to be committed

having to be expected or needed

having to deliver on the words that come out of their mouths

having to make an effort

and having to think.

This is not about you – if he is a Mr Unavailable or assclown, he doesn’t want to do these things with anyone and you could substitute a different woman, and you’d get same problems, different package.

the floor

Kundalini yoga and meditation provides me with a floor. A floor to frustration, anger, sadness, and despair so that I don’t fall into the abyss.

Even when I consider men who’ve treated me badly, men with whom all the foundations of a good relationship were present (similar education, interests, and personalities as well as physical attraction) but for whom that still wasn’t enough, my anger has a floor, and I can feel compassion. After all, they wouldn’t reach 45 or 50 still single if they weren’t struggling too.

I’m grateful to have a job, I recognize the kindness of my co-workers and other associates, and I appreciate the beauty of my surroundings. I repeat these things often.

And yet, I often feel brief, lightning flashes of anger. Anger that I’m back in the same old scenario– in a stressful, demanding job with little in the way of intimate support– and that there seems to be no exit. Anger that I no longer have a single reliable friend with whom I can speak to about my anger!

Regret is something I also feel. Regret, perhaps, that I left my last job, because many of my fears about leaving have turned out to be true. Even more so, regret that I left the job and city I was living in before moving to Los Angeles all those years ago. The experience was incredibly enriching, but with no one to share it with, it’s ephemeral. It feels like I might as well have just stayed in the same place, because essentially, that’s what I’ve done.