A long time ago (ha, ha, hold a sec you'll get the joke) when I was married, one of the things I loved the most was the fact that my husband held my hand. When we walked in the mall, when we went out to dinner, when we were sitting in the movie theater pretending to pay attention to the screen. In fact, our last date, a little over a year ago and right before we seperated, we spent six days in a hotel, having dinner, dancing around the room, making out under the trees, and holding hands as we walked up and down the outdoor mall. It felt natural, despite the fact that we hadn't seen each other in over three months. But even then, up until that point, I still wanted to be wrapped up in him, smelling like his cologne, daydreaming about him smiling at me on the next pillow, washing my hair with his shampoo.
I wasn't a stalker. I just had a man who was not afraid to lay claim to what he considered his. Bad history aside, my ex never made me feel less his wife, most especially in public.
Since then, I've had the privilege of both observing and experiencing new relationships. My friends have, very kindly, begun to tell me that I have a type -- the wrong type. Emotionally unavailable men. And I am very much an emotionally available woman. Always have been. What has changed in the past twelve months, however, is my claim to my own independence. Eventually, I feel that I would like very much to "belong" to someone again. Sorry to my feminist friends, I know that's not very GirlPower of me. It's the truth though.
However...
While I wait for someone to come along who can handle all that I am (and, in my Foxy Cleopatra voice, "I'm a whole LOTTA woman!), I'm finding that I am not so comfortable dealing with men who want to cage me up, put restrictions on me, make me feel like I am being stuffed into a box.
Might be the "good girl, makes cookies, loves puppies, stars in her eyes, rom-com" me. Might be the "naughty, naughty, holy crap didn't know you got down like that, lemme get that on video" me. (lol)
Either way, whenever I feel that noose tightening, I rebel or I retreat, and that's no good for anybody. It happens at work, when I feel my boss is putting pressure on me to act, think, talk, produce, like other people with different life experiences and world views than me. When well-meaning male friends try to tell me about myself, like they've got it all figured out. When my privacy is compromised. When my requests for intimacy - not sex, intimacy - fall on very deaf ears...
When I feel like someone is trying to put me in a damn gilded cage, expecting me to submit, to relent, to bow down, just because its padded, and the food's good, and its kind of comfy - except when its not, and your bum hurts from the rock under the cushion, and the rich food sticks in your throat, refusing to go any further...
This morning - as the night is long gone now - I learned that no matter how beautiful, comfortable, wonderful it is, a cage is still a cage. And I decided that I will find a man who will want me as I am, who will understand how much better I am without the cage, who will listen, and act, and enjoy everything a free spirit like me can be...
Think. React. Love.
-Asha
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