The Guy Who I Could Not Make Into a Friend

I met this guy. A long, long time ago. We talked a lot a couple of times. I really liked him a lot… as a potential friend. I was upfront and honest with him from the beginning. I told him that I was not interested in him for dating, but as we had so many interests in common, it would be great if we could become friends.

Yes, he did hear me, as in the words did go into his ear and he was capable of hearing and understanding the words that I was saying. But no he did not hear me, in that he did not respect my no and not try to romanticize our interactions. After a few get-togethers and a few phone conversations I was so done and so over that.

There were two ways of looking at it; I had been very honest with him, and, I had not been brutally honest with him. I really don’t believe in being brutally honest with a guy. Well I guess it was true that I did not believe in being brutally honest back then, when I was  in my early twenties. Now I might actually believe in being brutally honest. Especially since not being brutally honest has not worked for me very well.

The reason that I am sharing about this is that I discovered recently that this guy lives in my apartment building. So I have thought about him a few times and tried to process that time I tried to make him my friend and he tried to make me his girlfriend. When I think and feel about this non-relationship I get overwhelmed with such feelings of anger at him.

I think we would have made great friends and it is hard not to think about how much better my life and potentially his life could have been if only we had managed to become and stay friends. If only he had been able to respect me and my boundaries and limitations to where our relationship could go or not go.

I had told him no and did go into some detail, though I tried to be as kind as humanly possible. I did not tell him the brutally honest truth, and he really seemed to be begging from that from me. He kept bringing up that sometimes you meet someone and feel nothing, but then you need to give it some time and see where it goes. I kept insisting that I knew where something could or could not go. The truth is that at that time in my life that was absolutely true.

The brutal truth is that I found his looks repulsive. I would never have told him that, I did keep insisting that he had no chance of having a dating relationship with me and never would. Perhaps that was brutal, but I don’t think so. He needed to be told the truth and when that didn’t matter to him, I needed to get him out of my life. So I did. I’ve always wished that we could have been friends.

Meeting him at the backdoor of our apartment building was a bit of a shock. Yes he looked just like himself, though older, and definitely not as tall as I remember him. I didn’t even recognize that it was him. He even told me his name, Richard, and that didn’t register right away. He mentioned his adult daughter and I think he talked about his partner, though I couldn’t tell if he was married or divorced or never married.

I excuse not connecting the dots because the security back door was not working and we were standing out in the cold. He called someone else in the building and asked them to let us in. He was nice and polite to me, giving me his phone number if I ever needed any help with anything, he noticed that I had a cane, and even offered to help me take my things up the stairway.  He had seemed nice back then as well, except for disrespecting me and my boundaries, so I guess that means not very nice. I’ve run into him a few times in the halls and he always asks me if I need help getting my groceries upstairs, though I always say no to everyone in the building. When I figured out it was him I deleted his phone number from my phone. I don’t think he has ever made the connection to me and the me from the past.

He is the person I am always thinking of when I say, you can’t make some guy be a friend when he doesn’t want to be your friend and instead wants something else. And I always feel sad about that. So I guess anger isn’t the only thing that I think and feel about when I think of Richard. Perhaps he couldn’t have been a good friend to someone. Perhaps my estimation of him was wrong. Perhaps I give him a lot more credit than he deserves. Perhaps I didn’t miss out on anything.

I know that guys get all pissy about women putting them “in the friendzone.” I know that is something that men call it when women offer men that they are not sexually attracted to instead of a sexual relationship. But that was not what I was doing. I don’t offer the “lesser” of two relationships to everyone that I don’t want to date, or not even to a few guys. I’ve only offered a friendship with a guy in real life, a few rare times. None of them worked out. None of them had a good respect for my boundaries.  None of them were free from sexual issues. I guess trying to make men my friend, in real life,  just doesn’t work out. I guess I can admit that now and it just is what it is and I am okay with that.

I think I would probably still offer friendship to a guy in real life, who was gay.

I also think it is a great thing that friendships with guys online have worked out so much better. So I got that going for me.


Healing Quotes Teens 147

“Do not bring people in your life who bring you down. And trust your instincts… Good relationships feel good. They feel right. They don’t hurt. They’re not painful. It’s not just with somebody you want to marry. But it’s with the friends that you choose. It’s with the people you surround yourself with.”
~ Michelle Obama

A Misunderstanding

I went out with a friend this week and had a great time. We are sort of new to our friendship in the last six months, even though we knew each other from a business I go to for the last couple of years. I really love her. She has such a sweet energy about her and is so sweet and kind to others.

I was talking to her about how I manage my life right now. At least I thought that I was communicating how hard it is for me and that I want it to change really bad. I guess I didn’t communicate it right. I don’t think she understood. I was talking about how I have few friends to do things with and that I have mostly online friends. And that is probably due a lot to my long-term disability and health issues. That I do things to entertain myself as much as possible based on my health and money issues.

She said well I personally could not be happy with that. I love and need to be around other people. I said oh I am an extrovert. I think I’m like you. I don’t like being alone so much, but I manage it as best I can. I’m glad she said something.

I really wouldn’t have wanted her going home with this misunderstanding that I am doing fine. I’m not. I’ve been very lonely. I know that I have more on the blog, online, and in my life right now than in the last fifteen years. I am so very thankful for that. But I yearn for so much more.

Happy One Year Anniversary

Happy One Year friendship Anniversary to my friends Red and Granny.

Last year, like every year, I surfed around a lot on wordpress looking at Christmas posts. I did the year before and the year before that.

Initially in 2009 I had left some comments in posts that I really really loved. Then I got upset, thinking they might come to my blog and read about me. The old stigma about being multiple and having a diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder got to me and I left fewer comments as time went on when I found a blog that was not abuse-related and/or blogger that I liked. In 2010 I didn’t really leave comments and I didn’t create a post about the Christmas posts that I liked.

In 2011 I really liked so many posts that I made up another post on my favorite Christmas posts with links and left some comments. The worry came back to me. I thought, well they will just have to accept that abuse happens, that people become multiple through abuse, and that I am multiple. After all that is what I am willing to do with other with survivor bloggers.

I thought, I am loveable, I am willing to take the chance that someone could visit my blog after I leave a comment and let them interact with me or not. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of because I am multiple. I don’t have to worry if someone wants to interact with me in advance, they can decide. It’s taken me a very long time to come to that belief, but here I am.

That is what happened. Today is the one year anniversary of my interacting with my friends Dirty Red, blog Relationsh*t and Granny, blog The Village Granny. Thank you beloveds. Your friendships are beautiful gifts and I treasure yous.

Happy One Year Anniversary.

Here’s the Thing…

Here’s the thing, I love having face-to-face friends. I love being able to go out and do stuff with someone else. I love being able to grow a relationship where sharing grows into a possibility. But mostly I just put a lot of time, energy, and emotion into something that goes nowhere.

Two years ago, when I moved back to my homestate, I ran into someone downtown, that I knew before moving away. We had never become friends, but it looked like it was a possibility back then. She acted pretty much the same, kind of wanting to become friends, suggesting things we could do together, all things that I would like to do.

We did get together twice and I did call her several times. She wanted to do things that I couldn’t do, mostly because I have difficulty and pain when walking and sitting. As a disabled person I thought she would understand what my limitations were, but that never seemed to happen.

She would roll her eyes when I would explain why somewhere was not a good place to eat for me and suggest somewhere else, which turned out to be places she did not want to go to. Like my brother I had lived with, she was convinced she knew what was safe and gluten free and how to tell, though she knew nothing at all. We did manage to go to two places to have coffee.

I tried to explain to her everything and tried to explain what my living space was like at the time; unsafe, loud, drinking, smoking, and drugs going on in the house where I was renting a room, and that right now I was not getting enough sleep and just trying to cope and to move out of there. I told her I am so tired from all of this. Her response was, well it is making me tired just listening to it. That was like a slap in the face. It really hurt my feelings.

I wasn’t trying to disclose and complain to her. I was just trying to explain so that she would understand that I just didn’t have the energy or rest to do things with her that week or the next one, because she was trying to pressure me into making some commitments I couldn’t.

She also had wanted me to move into the apartment complex where she lived, though she then proceeded to list off a long list of complaints about the place. She was upset that I moved somewhere else and that my place had stairs. I would have preferred no stairs myself. The stairs can be a huge issue for me some days. I was not happy with that, but I had to move and it was a place to move to and I was very thankful for that.

Then she stopped answering her phone and not returning my messages. This was exactly how our interactions had ended the last time.This isn’t the only recent potential friendship that ended badly. But the end of the interactions were for the best.

I have some wonderful online friendships that have included blogs, phone calls and emails. Here’s the thing, once you’ve been consistently respected, cared for, listened to, loved, valued; supported in time, words, feedback, and emotion it makes it easy to spot when you aren’t being and hard to accept less from someone saying they are a friend.

What I get from my online friends is huge. It makes it impossible for me to accept something less in person.

I Am Thankful For: My Friend LC

I am thankful for, my other best friend LC. I have known her for about five years now. It seems like a long time, in a lovely way, I mean. I feel very lucky.

She sees the best in me. When I can’t. When I don’t. When I am hateful to myself. When I am raging and when I am calm. She has time for me, when I am anxious, when I am scared, when I am triggered, when I am happy, when I am sad, and when I am going on and on about my “personal theories” of life, society, oppression, abuse, etc. She sees the best in me and loves me. It is so very lovely.

She is so intelligent, so very talented, and she has a full range of emotions. And she has time to be my friend. She is really quite lovely and she is my friend. I think I deserve her. She helped me believe that.

She spent hours and hours on the phone talking to me so my anxiety and panic were less in the ten days following my physical assault in Ohio. She gave me suggestions, looked up things for me online, called for information for me, offered help, and always assumed that I was worthy of her time, her friendship, and any help she could offer me.

When I was recounting the accusations the abuser told me after she physically assaulted me, LC listened. I can’t tell you how surprising it was to listen to her feedback. This abusive person had said that I was pathetic, an old fat dyke, in love with her ex-girlfriend, and moved all the way there to try to “get” her. (Well that wasn’t true, we were friends, I don’t treat friends like potential sexual partners, not ever. And I like guys.) But I was recounting this and LC interrupted me to ask, “And why would that be pathetic?” She said she thinks that anyone would be lucky if I loved them.

When my “friend” walked out of the house and left me there in a small town in Ohio, alone, for one week while I tried to find someone to help me move my stuff into storage and give me a ride to the bus station, LC was there for me. I know she had so much going on in her own life; projects, college courses, homelife, etc. She was there for me and she helped me.

I had told my “friend” I feel like no one is on my side, like I am all alone here, the day she walked out on me. She said I am on your side. And then she left a few hours later, without telling me, without locking the front door, taking the cordless phone that could access messages with her, luckily leaving the other phone with me. I guess it might have had something to do with the fact that I had that phone with me, locked up in my bedroom when she decided to bolt.

But the truth is that I felt like I was alone, but I wasn’t. I had my online friends. I had some family to talk to. I had LC. I’m not alone. And for that I am truly thankful. Thank you LC. Thank you precious friend.