When a girl gets her period, it’s such a release because everything they’ve been holding onto emotionally and ahem.. physically, gets dumped out of their system. Literally and figuratively. It’s like a renewal. It’s natural, and it’s what makes us better at dealing with our emotions. Better than men, that is, because we have some sort of somewhat consistent (at its best) times of release.
How do I explain this to dudes? How do I explain that sometimes when I’m feeling the most vulnerable, it’s because I can’t rely on you? Because you don’t understand, because you don’t have a high emotional intelligence. How does one even build on that? Is it fair to expect someone to grow or push them to grow? Do people ever really grow into it or is it something you just have and reach a certain point that gets you through your life and that’s just the set of cards you’re dealt with? So when it comes to a relationship, what’s more important to you in order to build intimacy? Is it even possibly to develop a rich and deep intimate relationship with someone who has a lower eq than you? Mainly, is it fair to wait for someone to “grow the fuck up?”
What that means is immaturity. And I never though it meant emotional immaturity, but it makes so much sense now. I used to think immaturity meant being stupid, just the act of it, rather than not having the experience or knowledge of how to deal with different people coming to the table with different intentions and the ideas they are wanting to push forward as a group or as a pair, or simple finding some common ground. Being young and stupid means doing everything you do just for your sake when it’s not always about you. Why do I feel like screaming that to people all the time? Drama, drama, drama. Get the fuck over yourself, puuuuhleassse. Wait, isn’t that what immaturity means? Well, in my book anyway.
Maybe that’s why some men are better at doing business, because it takes a certain level of ‘I don’t care about you, I’m doing this in the best interest of my survival’ in order to conduct yourself in the professional dog eat dog world. And a woman’s natural instincts are to protect the shit out of what’s ours. We all fight for what’s ours. It comes with learning about our worth and claiming our territory, and in an urban world, that just means more mind games, more emotional games, more manipulation of reason, of the heart, and of the relationships we create.
It’s all about being competitive as an adult, isn’t it? Or has it been that way since the beginning of time? Well, duh. When we are young, competition happens in sports, maybe that’s our way of practicing all the variations of outcome as to prepare ourselves for when money is involved, and hence playing for real survival.
I have a whole lot more running through my head. And physically, I’ve been running around in order to keep up with myself lately. No wonder I’ve been shopping so much lately. Fucking consumption shopping therapy. It’s only a matter of time, cute outfits, and more shoes that I don’t need until I finally realize that something is happening underneath.
At the “end of the month,” thank fucking god. It’s the time when my body tells me to slow down, sit down with myself, and figure out what to do next. Holy moley, what a release I needed after last month. Fuck, is it that hard to pat someone on the back and reassure that everything is going to be alright? Sure, I’m sorry. My emotional outbreaks don’t come at opportune times, which makes me feel like I’m something to be “dealt” with— though I’m learning to give him some slack, because it is a lot to handle at times. His plate is pretty darn full, too. We all do the best we can.
It’s the tough love that I’m used to getting from my family. The familial kind of checking in to see what you’ve done in life, not how you’ve been feeling about it all. I guess what I want is the soft love that only a boyfriend can give. The cuddles, the hugs, the gentle touches that makes it all go away. The feeling of safety in someone’s arms, even when you know that it’s only an imaginary “safe” place. But at least for a moment in time, you are at peace with being the hot mess that you are, the crazy that you can’t change, and knowing that someone loves you for it.
This is turning out to be the longest post ever. The last month has been so busy, and things keep happening and I feel like I could write until the sun sets—not about anything in particular, I’m just full of… thoughts. This feels good, though. Emotional purging, my kind of yoga. Making new head space for new things, for my to do’s in order to move forward, to thrive. Like a comet soaring through layers and layers, pushing down and burning out, but reaching its ultimate goal.
