Rings And Seemingly Insignificant Things

Rings and seemingly insignificant things

I still wear a ring he gave me in the early years of our relationship.  I used to look at it as a testament to my commitment to him.  Now it’s a placeholder until I can find something more suitable; I’m not ready to go naked just yet.

I’ve switched hands at least.

Update

He dropped it off in my mailbox last night after he was done work ( 4am). He called me at that time but my ringer was off. He didn't leave a message. I can't say I'm disappointed by this anticlimactic end, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief.

I remained steadfast in my resolve and did not respond despite all the baiting. Despite the texts that filled me with rage. Despite the voicemails that broke my heart. I feel like I've won.

So why do I also feel like absolute garbage?

Gaslighting - one from the vault - edited

I told him waaaaay back in our early days that I was attracted to women.  

This was when we were teenagers and he managed to hang on to a group of friends - I suspect the copious amount of alcohol consumed among other mood enhancing essentials tended to keep things light and fun.

Within this group of friends were two women in a relationship together. Some time after I had told him about my attraction he pulled me aside.

He told me that he had overheard these two women talking and they thought I was good-looking.  This didn’t really generate a reaction from me; they were in a relationship, I was in a separate relationship, and there wasn’t history, mutual attraction or chemistry.  As far as I was concerned they were commenting on the drapes.

He rolled his eyes and spelled it out for me, because clearly I was too stupid to figure it out. He told me that they would probably proposition me and if I said no that they would attack me.  Possibly even rape me.

I was shocked.  And frightened.   He told me most of the lesbians he knew were aggressive like this.  He said that if they even suspected I was anything but straight, they’d never stop bothering me.

He knew these people better than I did, and as a teenager emerging from Catholic school I was not acquainted with many out lesbians to base my experience on. Plus he was my boyfriend, and was always looking out for my best interests.  What reason did I have not to believe him? 

Fourteen years later, I can tell you that this story is total bullshit.  I doubt he even overhead them commenting on me.  

They never ever gave me even an inkling that their interests were anything other than platonic, and we all spent a significant amount of time together.  Furthermore I have heard nothing from any other source about them being aggressive, predatory, or violent.

And yet I was always on guard when they were around (which was frequently) because of what he’d told me.

WHY WOULD HE CONTINUE TO BRING ME TO THESE GATHERINGS IN THE FIRST PLACE IF HE THOUGHT THERE WAS A RISK THAT I MAY BE ASSAULTED?!

This event, ridiculous as it may sound, was a major player in the prolonged repression of my sexuality. And an excellent way to keep me off balance and uncomfortable in public, while simultaneously ruling out those he saw as his competition.

Three birds, one stone.

Happy Wednesday.

Sad Things.

I found a list of names. If things had been different and I had a girl, we would have called her Alice.

“Your next boyfriend is going to be so lucky.  You might be worth something by then.”