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hathycolI've been doing some thinking. Given that it's the wee hours of the morning and I am not in the right place in my head right now, this is a bit... worrying, I suppose. It might be a bit stream of thoughty. I'm friendslocking it because people are adding me at the rate of knots with no introduction right now, which is a little alarming, and I'm normally a sickeningly public person (crying on a train and throwing up on the next connection train? No problem) but there's only so much I'm willing to share with the world at large.
Erm, anyway.
I've been reading over a lot of my old journal entries, because it's a process I find fascinating. The thing is, I am stupidly open and talkative on LJ about all kinds of stuff - fairly indepth detail about the Pill, my health (and teeth), and how I feel in relation to people who don't read or speak to people who read this journal, and everything I've done in excrutiating detail. I'm, in a way, a bit frightened to talk about how I feel about other people - it's always in context of "I'm so happy" or a jokey "Well, I suppose I have to tell you" sort of reference.
Basically, I'm a bit paranoid. I always think, well, that I talk too much about Simon. Oh, hell, I probably do. And I know a lot of you out there - my contemporaries, or the people he or I have known for donkey's years, or even just the people over the pond I've grown connected to - find the whole situation fucking weird. Christ, at times I do. I look down at the ring on my finger and realise exactly what it entails, or I look up and suddenly realise "Oh my GOD I'm hugging Simon" or sometimes I speak to old acquitances from college who are desperately trying to wrap their heads around the fact that, well, I do The Sex with a man. And given the fact that I had to put up with an accusation from someone I knew that "you were a lesbian for attention, then you went straight with the least likely candidate for attention. Bet you'll get divorced when the limelight fades" I'm now slightly afraid to talk even about the wedding thing. I didn't quite have the effort to tell him to fuck off, because that's what I know people are thinking. People have every right too and all. I'd think it, if it was one of my friends who had done the same.
I don't want to become Bridezilla. I don't want to become the sort of girl that talks gushingly about how much they love their boi and how speshul he is, and how much they ttly luv him and lolz. I sort of don't need to, because, um, he is and I do, except with better spelling and grammar, but that isn't the point, and that isn't what I want to talk about, because that is private.
I want to talk about how much I miss Simon when he's not here without getting defensive. I want to mention on my LJ about the church I want to get married in, and all the religious considerations that go with that. Did you know I'm budgeting for it already? Or that we're going to have a poke around the chapels in St Andrews in Freshers Week to see if we both like them? Do you know that I'm quite seriously planning about stupid stuff, like how the hell we're both going to live after university, and what family members to put on opposite sides to each other, and colour schemes, and bridesmaids? No, you don't, because I'm afraid to talk about it.
(I tried talking to my mother about where I want to get married. I was cut off with a curt question about when I planned to do it, I answered after my degree, and then that was the end of the conversation. I'm sure I'm meant to be able to talk to my mother about this, but short of a guarantee that it's after the degree and an instruction to run away to get away from my extended family, I can't. Fun, isn't it?)
And I can't talk about it, not to anyone other than Simon, because I'm all confused and I'm afraid of getting the nasty reaction I got on my original LJ post when I said I was getting engaged. I'm afraid of weirding out the people I care about, and honestly, I don't want to, but when did I get to the point that I flat out wouldn't talk about it because I was afraid of other's reactions? Besides, I mentioned the paranoia.
I don't, though. I mention Simon when he is coming back into my life in the form of a visit, or about when we go out, or whatever. But that's it. I don't talk about... I don't know, how it feels, not very often. I don't talk about singing along to songs in the car because hey remind me of him, or how safe he makes me feel, or...
I am not some sort of incomplete human. I have a perfectly active life of my very own, thankyouverymuch, and I don't feel the need to validate myself by talking about the fact I have a relationship. But he is a big part of my life. That's normal. So why do I feel so frozen when it comes to actually talking about it?
christthisisstructuredterribly.
What I'm trying to say is this: yes, the very concept of me and Simon being together, let alone getting married, is a strange and bizarre one. I was a fairly adamant lesbian, and to be quite honest, I still am. I'm really not interested in men as a species, with the new and possible exception of David Tennant. (Apart from Simon, obviously.) Simon was quite notable in just not being interested in, you know, anything, and tended to beat people about the head for hugging attempts. Neither of us were the marrying type, but, well, here we are. And I get that it's weird, but we've been together a long time now, and it's going to stay that way. We are going to get married, and it is going to be in the next five years, and for preference it's going to be within the next four. We're not going to turn into the monster couple of death. I'm not going to turn into one of those hideous women who talks about noting but her bloke, but you know what? I am going to start talking about this, because all this is one hell of a feeling, and I want to share how happy I am. I want to talk wedding plans, life plans. I want to talk about how much it hurts when I have to leave him for another few weeks apart, but normally I'm just vague and defensive.
It's still fucking weird, but it's still me. It's still Colleen, with her Northern socialist working-class indignation, her worrying obsession with equal rights, who talks about fandom a lot, with the dancing, with the drinking, with the liking for history, with the ambition. That's not changed. One part of me has, yes, so I want to stop being afraid of talking about it on my LJ. It's not an LJ that's going to turn into constant gushing or romantic crap, and if I does I beg for the flamethrower, but... it needs to start reflecting that my life has changed. I use LJ as my outlet, when I'm sad or down, just to get a comforting message or at least to know that I'm subjecting myself on someone else, but when I'm crying myself to sleep because the bed feels cold and empty and I'm afraid to write about it because of how people might react, there has to be something wrong.
I was less afraid of being judged when I talked about my fairly randomised lesbian kissage a few years back. And I'm sure that's odd.
Comment at me and shout at me and tell me I'm being stupid, or whatever. I think it might help.
Erm, anyway.
I've been reading over a lot of my old journal entries, because it's a process I find fascinating. The thing is, I am stupidly open and talkative on LJ about all kinds of stuff - fairly indepth detail about the Pill, my health (and teeth), and how I feel in relation to people who don't read or speak to people who read this journal, and everything I've done in excrutiating detail. I'm, in a way, a bit frightened to talk about how I feel about other people - it's always in context of "I'm so happy" or a jokey "Well, I suppose I have to tell you" sort of reference.
Basically, I'm a bit paranoid. I always think, well, that I talk too much about Simon. Oh, hell, I probably do. And I know a lot of you out there - my contemporaries, or the people he or I have known for donkey's years, or even just the people over the pond I've grown connected to - find the whole situation fucking weird. Christ, at times I do. I look down at the ring on my finger and realise exactly what it entails, or I look up and suddenly realise "Oh my GOD I'm hugging Simon" or sometimes I speak to old acquitances from college who are desperately trying to wrap their heads around the fact that, well, I do The Sex with a man. And given the fact that I had to put up with an accusation from someone I knew that "you were a lesbian for attention, then you went straight with the least likely candidate for attention. Bet you'll get divorced when the limelight fades" I'm now slightly afraid to talk even about the wedding thing. I didn't quite have the effort to tell him to fuck off, because that's what I know people are thinking. People have every right too and all. I'd think it, if it was one of my friends who had done the same.
I don't want to become Bridezilla. I don't want to become the sort of girl that talks gushingly about how much they love their boi and how speshul he is, and how much they ttly luv him and lolz. I sort of don't need to, because, um, he is and I do, except with better spelling and grammar, but that isn't the point, and that isn't what I want to talk about, because that is private.
I want to talk about how much I miss Simon when he's not here without getting defensive. I want to mention on my LJ about the church I want to get married in, and all the religious considerations that go with that. Did you know I'm budgeting for it already? Or that we're going to have a poke around the chapels in St Andrews in Freshers Week to see if we both like them? Do you know that I'm quite seriously planning about stupid stuff, like how the hell we're both going to live after university, and what family members to put on opposite sides to each other, and colour schemes, and bridesmaids? No, you don't, because I'm afraid to talk about it.
(I tried talking to my mother about where I want to get married. I was cut off with a curt question about when I planned to do it, I answered after my degree, and then that was the end of the conversation. I'm sure I'm meant to be able to talk to my mother about this, but short of a guarantee that it's after the degree and an instruction to run away to get away from my extended family, I can't. Fun, isn't it?)
And I can't talk about it, not to anyone other than Simon, because I'm all confused and I'm afraid of getting the nasty reaction I got on my original LJ post when I said I was getting engaged. I'm afraid of weirding out the people I care about, and honestly, I don't want to, but when did I get to the point that I flat out wouldn't talk about it because I was afraid of other's reactions? Besides, I mentioned the paranoia.
I don't, though. I mention Simon when he is coming back into my life in the form of a visit, or about when we go out, or whatever. But that's it. I don't talk about... I don't know, how it feels, not very often. I don't talk about singing along to songs in the car because hey remind me of him, or how safe he makes me feel, or...
I am not some sort of incomplete human. I have a perfectly active life of my very own, thankyouverymuch, and I don't feel the need to validate myself by talking about the fact I have a relationship. But he is a big part of my life. That's normal. So why do I feel so frozen when it comes to actually talking about it?
christthisisstructuredterribly.
What I'm trying to say is this: yes, the very concept of me and Simon being together, let alone getting married, is a strange and bizarre one. I was a fairly adamant lesbian, and to be quite honest, I still am. I'm really not interested in men as a species, with the new and possible exception of David Tennant. (Apart from Simon, obviously.) Simon was quite notable in just not being interested in, you know, anything, and tended to beat people about the head for hugging attempts. Neither of us were the marrying type, but, well, here we are. And I get that it's weird, but we've been together a long time now, and it's going to stay that way. We are going to get married, and it is going to be in the next five years, and for preference it's going to be within the next four. We're not going to turn into the monster couple of death. I'm not going to turn into one of those hideous women who talks about noting but her bloke, but you know what? I am going to start talking about this, because all this is one hell of a feeling, and I want to share how happy I am. I want to talk wedding plans, life plans. I want to talk about how much it hurts when I have to leave him for another few weeks apart, but normally I'm just vague and defensive.
It's still fucking weird, but it's still me. It's still Colleen, with her Northern socialist working-class indignation, her worrying obsession with equal rights, who talks about fandom a lot, with the dancing, with the drinking, with the liking for history, with the ambition. That's not changed. One part of me has, yes, so I want to stop being afraid of talking about it on my LJ. It's not an LJ that's going to turn into constant gushing or romantic crap, and if I does I beg for the flamethrower, but... it needs to start reflecting that my life has changed. I use LJ as my outlet, when I'm sad or down, just to get a comforting message or at least to know that I'm subjecting myself on someone else, but when I'm crying myself to sleep because the bed feels cold and empty and I'm afraid to write about it because of how people might react, there has to be something wrong.
I was less afraid of being judged when I talked about my fairly randomised lesbian kissage a few years back. And I'm sure that's odd.
Comment at me and shout at me and tell me I'm being stupid, or whatever. I think it might help.
