Clarifications, Reminders, and Histories in Book Seven: Reconstruction 2020

  • Feb. 12, 2020, 9:59 a.m.
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In truth, I wasn’t going to write this. In truth, I was going to start writing more private entries. Because processing in public can be helpful but when people who I have deeply trusted for a long time make me feel bad about myself for doing so… it makes me want to stop writing publicly. But I felt I owed it to myself and others to write this. As I begin? I’m not sure if I’ll close comments or not. We’ll see how I feel at the end of this.

Growing up, I was treated completely separately by boys and girls. Boys didn’t like me because I was frail, sickly, tiny, and thought of as “extremely cute but needing protection.” Girls liked me because I was communicative, enjoyed their games where relationship building was center instead of competition, and wasn’t mean to them. Until I was a senior in High School, I had always had more friends who were girls than friends who were boys. Being extremely close to women, emotionally and socially, is a default setting for me.

While Iowa is nothing special, and all of you would think “The best part of Iowa is still an armpit compared to the worst part of (name your city).” where we grow up tends to affect our perceptions. Most of Iowa would balk at spending $120 for a dress that you wear only a few times. That was the expected standard where I grew up. As ridiculous as the sentiment sounds, I grew up in the L.A. of Iowa. Million dollar homes, expensive wardrobes, and a significant focus on appearance. Our orchestra was underfunded and struggling to scrape by… and yet, largely due to expectations, we had an elaborate banquet at the Country Club every year to celebrate the end of each season.

It is humorous to think about in some ways nowadays. But I devoted myself to my activities 100% when growing up. Largely, that meant acting. That meant being surrounded by professional, semi-professional, and amateur actors most days of my life from the age of 5 to 20. So I spent 15 of my formative years entirely dedicated to an industry where how you look is as important (or more important) than what you can do.

Perhaps what is worse, though, is that I was being raised with an oppressively heavy focus on Purity Culture. So while in an industry that rewarded beauty, I was being beaten over the head with the idea that “Don’t you ever have a sexual thought! You save that shit for your wife! Otherwise, you’re trash!!” Is it any wonder why discovering masturbation and pornography extremely messed me up? Because I liked it… it felt good… it was interesting… and it made me want to die. I was genuinely suicidal twice because of my own sexual urges. All of this while deeply engaged in an industry that is all about selling appearances, sex, and provocative stories. NOT TO MENTION at the time? I was required to be dedicated to purity culture… and nobody gave a shit about competitive swimming… so most people never saw me outside of ill-fitting clothes. Until Germany. Three of the nice, sweet, attractive friends I had made really wanted to see me and Scott in “stereotypical German muscle attire.” Scott was built. I instantly felt like they were setting me up to insult me. And maybe they were. But when they saw me in it? I could see the surprise and appreciation in their eyes. And that made me feel good. And then made me hate myself. Because… at least back then… I had a body that maybe women would be interested in. But that was bad. Because I couldn’t be happy about that… that was wrong.

Those were my formative years. I didn’t go into the whole Aku sexual violence episode because I’ve discussed that over and over again. And that CERTAINLY dictates how I am today as well. And perhaps it should be mentioned that Aku was the heaviest woman I’ve ever dated. So there could be some of that in my current responses. The idea that I don’t want to date someone that I couldn’t physically overpower if they attacked me. And while I understand a certain offense being taken to that; I won’t apologize that someone who violently attacked me three times still affects me.

But also… consider the last 14 years. A woman I was deeply interested in sought me out. Then shut me down. Martha sought me out. She selected me, knowing that I was interested, and she wanted me in her life. And things were good when she was the “sexually experienced woman dating the boy who was saving himself”. Because there was no need to worry about mutual physical interaction. It was just two people… who really enjoyed spending time together… who would make out occasionally. Then it grew from there until we did start having sex. Until everything shut down. And it didn’t shut down for the first time when we got married.

I moved to Des Moines. She came after me. But after she moved… things changed. She no longer asked me how my day was, asked me what I was thinking, asked me what I wanted to do. She no longer wanted to make out, or have any physical interaction. She just wanted someone to come over and eat food with and watch TV with. That felt like an emotional rejection, not a physical one. So we discussed it. It was the first time I ever told her I was ready to walk away. Because I didn’t want to be the body next to her on the couch… I wanted to be someone to her. We stayed together. During the time between moving to Des Moines and starting Law School, I was working a very physical job and stayed in fairly good shape simply because of the heavy lifting I was doing at work every day.

We got married in July 2011 and started Law School in August 2011. The first year we were married? We had sex once in August, once in September, and once in November. And then no sex, no kissing, no making out, no physical intimacy of any kind for the next 3 years. During those three years, despite working my ass off in Law School… I was expected to do the cleaning and the cooking and take care of my wife’s ever deteriorating mental health. I tried to work out when I could, but I had a lot on my plate and quickly gained weight. Which fed Martha’s refusal of intimacy. Repeatedly telling me how I’d gotten fat. And frankly… she wasn’t wrong. From “Acting” to “Lawyer” I had gained 100 pounds. From when women looked at me like I was a snack to my wife rejecting every physical advance, I had gained the weight of an entire average middle school boy!

The rest is buried in these pages but as I’ve written 2,601 entries since 2014; I won’t expect you to go back and re-read. Suffice it to say… no matter what I did, my wife was quick to remind me that it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to turn her on. It wasn’t enough to foster a physical relationship between us. And ultimately, it wasn’t enough to remind her to say “I love you.” Or act like she cared in any way.

And that’s where I am right now. As a person.

WHEN I was attractive and sexually appealing… I felt downright suicidal that I had sexual urges towards the attractive women in my life. DISCLAIMER (that shouldn’t be needed)… “attractive women” means “THE WOMEN I WAS ATTRACTED TO”… I understand that it is easy to pretend that there is some “monolith” of what is attractive, but I assure you there is not. Just because TV and Pop Culture tell you that “attractive” means Kate Upton, it doesn’t mean that I don’t mean “attractive” to be Tara Lynn. So I convinced myself that I wouldn’t be good enough for those women because I had those sexual urges. THIS IS HOW FUCKED UP PURITY CULTURE IS. It makes someone take personal responsibility and drown in guilt over natural, hormonal reactions! THEN I met my wife. And over the last 14 years, she has personally expertly repeatedly destroyed any self-esteem I have in my appearance or sexual appeal. That’s where I am today.

SO yeah. Maybe I’m focused on the physical. BECAUSE THE PHYSICAL WAS THE FOCUS FORCED ON ME. Do you think I’d be this focused on sexual attraction, sexuality, or any of that if the Purity Culture Drum hadn’t been beaten every day of my life for 20 years? Do you think I’d be this focused on sexual attraction, sexuality or any of that if my marriage had involved anything remotely close to a healthy sexual relationship? Considering the only three even semi-sexual relationships I’ve ever had were all unhealthy… do you think this might be something that comes to the forefront of my mind as I contemplate entering the dating scene? Who knows what the answer is! Honestly. No way to know.

And call this dark. Call this evil. Call this me outing myself as a horrible beast monster person with no redeeming qualities.
I WANT A WOMAN TO WANT ME THAT I WANT IN RETURN because I need to feel that experience in my life at some point!! I don’t know what it is like for women, I’m not going to PRETEND to know and I’m not going to make wild assumptions about any of it because I’ve never been a woman!

Of those three semi-sexual relationships?
One wanted me desperately. I thought, “Wow! That’s a little scary.” And she tied me to a tree, sexually assaulted me, and tried to kill me.
One wanted me as long as I was around. I thought, “I really like this girl. Could we be more?” And she repeatedly told me (her exact words) that I was pleasing to the eye but of such inferior genetic stock that she would never want more than making out.
Then there’s my wife. Who I’ve already detailed… I really liked. And found her attractive. And she’s spent the last 14 years pretty much scooping out any confidence I have in my appearance.

So… yeah. I’m not looking for “replacement wife” right now. I’m not looking for “family to insert myself as father figure”. I’m looking for the barest minimum. Like a person first dating for the first time. I simply want to feel a spark, an attraction, a bit of chemistry with someone. And to have that person feel that same thing, too. AND maybe I don’t word it properly. Maybe I come off as The Symbol of Pig Headed Men Everywhere. But you know what? I’ve never done this before! I have never been in a position where I was looking for someone to date… with the knowledge that I could have sex if it got to that… but that isn’t even the thing that is my sticking point here.

14 years ago… I had a roommate, 6 socially active friends, and 14 socially active acquaintances. I lived on a college campus. If I wanted to be around people, introduce myself to some women, see where the night took me… it was easy. I could go to the dance club, or the bar, or the comedy club, or the library, or join an intramural team, or join a club, or hang out at the student quad. Life was literally filled with opportunities to run into other human beings around my age with similar interests.
That isn’t the case now. I’ve looked into it. There are no intramural sports here. No volleyball, no softball, no nothing. There are no clubs but I could be on a board. And I am! I’m on two separate boards. One that specializes in assisting Drug Endangered Children and one that does the Community Theater. And if you remove me from those boards… the average age of the members is around 58. So, I’m pretty much exclusively relegated to Dating Apps. So is the consensus of Probsebox that I should swipe right on literally every single person? Is that what I’m being told? Or am I allowed to be at least somewhat critical and say no to less than 20%?? It’s Dating Apps, people. If and/or when I get really desperate… I’ll do a Friends Only Entry to figure out why zero point zero people are swiping right… or maybe I’ll beg Victoria or Remus to introduce me to some people. Or I’ll see if my brother can introduce me to someone in Ames. Or I’ll force MBFITWW to go bar hoping in our small towns where we currently live. Or maybe something unexpected will happen in Okoboji or Corallville or Japan. But let me be acutely clear here when I speak about being “disappointed” or “devastated” about certain things. I’m not talking “Oh shit, this chick is fat.” Not at all. I’m talking… wow… the one person who swiped right on me is 48 with 6 kids and a face that looks like she eats cigarettes instead of just smoking them and teeth that look like she played amateur ice hockey. And call me shallow but yes… if after everything the only person I can attract is that person? That doesn’t do a whole lot of good for my eroded and diminished self esteem!

Which… just throwing that out there… tends to take a beating every week in my professional life as it is. Because while I’m going through what I’m going through… I get to be on the receiving end of phone calls and e-mails from otherwise attractive and capable women threatening to sue me for prosecuting their Domestic Abuser! So… yeah. Feel free to throw that shrimp on the barbie. While I live an existence where my wife and apparently most suitable people on dating apps don’t find me attractive enough to engage… I get to be professionally harassed by people who (right or wrong) would rather personally attack me over and over and over instead of letting me do my job… a job they initiated by calling the police in the first place. So yeah. Maybe I am a shallow prick of a human male. But for fuck sake, my self-esteem could use a pretty big shot in the arm after so many years of it being ground into the dirt.


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