Evolutionary

Being there for someone is a colloquial phrase we use all the time. Being a shoulder to cry on, showing the flag, or being there for support, etc... Doing these things can come so naturally in our actions towards others. Friends are down and we want to pick them up. A loved one needs something and we get it for them.

It’s strange, a bit, if you look at it biologically. According to evolution and Darwin, our first instinct is to watch out for ourselves and survive and try to make life easier for our personal gain. Yeah sure, we're concerned with the survival of our species and all, but that is more of a sexual consideration rather then a caring concern. I mean I don't know about you, but I don’t think about reproduction when I’m trying to help my friends out. According to science, we're supposed to be cold competitive creatures. Those of us who are weaker, who need the shoulder to cry on, are the bottom of the natural selection bunch according to history. Our first instinct shouldn't include saving or helping those 'helpless' people in our lives.

And yet time and time again we do amazing things as humans, like overcome our instincts. We even build new ones. We change our reactions so that we are kind and considerate instead of cold and competitive. We build unlikely relationships and we learn and expand even more through these. There’s the real evolution- empathetic evolution.

And it’s such an intense emotion that causes this new evolution. It starts with the recognition that right now, in this moment, you are a factor in someone’s life that makes it better for them somehow... Happier, fuller, safer, Better. You are that person’s life support, in a way, and that’s even more than being simply a shoulder to cry on... And it's these relationships we find ourselves in, I think, that we find in any moment, we really are playing said role; and the shock of the anti-instinctual yet amazing  evolutionary and emotional bond both delights and frightens us. This is what friendship is, I think. To evolve, maybe not as a species, but as a person. To love somebody for something not animalistic, to love them for purely non-sexual reasons and to love their happiness and safety simply because they are and we are and we exist together in a harmonic way that sometimes can’t be explained further than 'feeling right'. It’s not for self-betterment, and while I think it can involve the aid of others, it’s not entirely that either. They simply make us happy. It’s these friends, that watch our backs and lick our wounds and lay with us and cry with us and love us and it is beautiful.

Do you have these kinds of friends? Does it ever hit you that what you are to them, and/or what they are to you, is something beautiful and rare? Let me know!

See you when I see you,
A.

Sex

Sex. As in we had it. Whoa.

Ok so I never got around to writing up an article I meant to a month or so ago about my opinion on the values of abstinence and waiting to have sex etc. A short little bit about that... I'll sound like a broken record here, but of course I think that sex (ie., when to have it, who to have it with, whatever you may talk about) is a totally situation-based kind of subject. Different people in different parts of their lives in different situations will feel very different about sex than others. And that is perfectly find by me. The only "self-doctrines" I suppose I hold on the topic are that I believe sex should be reserved for people you really feel love with and those who make you feel good and happy and special. I also think sex shouldn't be scary or unnatural or uncomfortable... I think that if you're sharing that much of yourself with someone, you should feel very happy and safe and comfortable (besides normal first-time jitters obviously). If you feel threatened about showing somebody your entire body and allowing them to invade that body... Maybe sex isn't the best idea. But of course there are exceptions to all of that, and every situation is unique. But in general, and especially for myself, that's what I feel.

Now about J. and I.

We originally planned on waiting only until I was able to take birth control, just to be safe and because we didn't mind waiting. However recently, we realized that we were simply ready to take that next step in our relationship. We felt like we were at that step and that we really wanted to be on that level with each other in our relationship. So we took the necessary precautions and... did it. And, to be frank, it was amazing. Like ten-times-better-than-I-could-have-imagined-first-time-sex-being-amazing. We were already comfortable with each other and our naked bodies and all the hands-on experience necessary to simply go the extra mile and get one part into the other. Though the condom business was a funny nervous-giggles-filled time, we figured it out, and the rest was mostly smooth sailing. There were funny parts, there were intense parts, and then afterward we cuddled and wrapped our bodies up in each other's and lay there just talking and giggling and hugging and it was beautiful. I never felt uncomfortable, I was never in pain, and after (not gonna lie) struggling a bit to figure out how to get it in, the sex was... well, really hot. We both enjoyed ourselves and didn't feel like it was in any way scary or bad or anything it shouldn't have been.

Now I recognize that not everybody has such an amazing first time, but I think it's possible to get close if not the same kind of experience as long as you're with somebody you love and trust and react well to. J. and I know each other better than we know ourselves and we're very comfortable with our true selves and each other. We know all of the others' flaws, and we love and embrace those flaws. This kind of equilibrium in our relationship made all of the potentially awkward things about our first time having sex non-existent, or innocently comical at the most. I'm so glad, now that we had sex and that we're on that level.

J. and I also discussed our before-and-after thoughts about society's views on sex... Before we actually had sex, I was a little intimidated about the whole thing, mostly because it was something new and I didn't entirely know what to expect. I feel like sometimes in the society we live in, we're bombarded with images of sex as meaningless and used whenever people feel like it, and that our reaction then is to defend the "purity" of sex and say in defiance, "no, I will save that for something special and I will look down upon those who do not do the same thing." And thus, we develop these stereotypes against sex that make it something horrible and necessary to avoid and unnatural and then we look down upon those who don't treat it that way. However, when we do things like this, we simply fall into a mode of thought that does not originate in our own minds and consciences, and this "principle" that we call our own but isn't is just as bad as not having a principle at all. I did exactly that though. Before having sex and understanding totally what it meant to me, I allowed myself to look at it in the light in which it was presented to me. Now I know better and I can actually look back on that mode of thinking and see its faults.

All in all, I definitely don't regret it at all. If anything it strengthened my relationship with J., and we're both really happy about that decision.

What about you? Any crazy first-time experiences with sex? Any funny first-time stories? Let me know!

See you when I see you.
A

Systematic

In English class right now, we're talking about systems, as in social infrastructure and stultification of individuality within those structures. Well, actually, we're talking about the novel Native Son by Richard Wright, and in our discussion, we've touched on those topics. At the same time, I'm reading a great novel called Who's in Charge by Michael Gazzagnia. It's about Free Will and the science of the brain, and in the novel, Gazzagnia questions the extent or plausibility of free will if we are controlled by the natural and physical laws of the universe. Anyway... I got to writing about some of the feelings I had one Monday morning, and I wrote them down, in a true to teenage-angst fashion in my personal notebook (while studiously ignoring the droning on of my class until it sparked my interest). I figured I might as well share those thoughts here. Ta-Da:

January 28th, 2013

Waking up this morning to shut off my alarm yet again, probably for the fifteenth morning in a row, felt horrible and ridiculous and pointless and stunting and disgusting. Why do I have to wake up every single morning to fit into a system? On the other hnd, what's the use of breaking out of one? Living deliberately could involve the system, and then leaving it would be a thoughtless rebellion that is not deliberate, just ranbunctious and pointless. In the system, at least, I'm exposed to countless others in the same exact position, and I can react to them and think with them and create new amazing things... For the system. Systematically trapped and cornered. There is no happy medium here. I believe in forum and communication and exchange of ideas, and I do not find these outside of the system, for who is there but wild dreamers who cannot convey their expeiences with me. It would be as if we spoke completely different languages, unconveyable to one another. However, everything I do now, in it, holds the bitter oily taint of that same system. Is it possible to find original thought in a place where every element exists in dynamic equilibrium and nothing is created or destroyed, just as matter in our observable universe? Musn't we ourselves follow the laws of the universe we claim to discover and experience? And, most jarringly, if all of this is truth... How can I ever exist enough to see the very thing which holds me in all its entirety?

I cannot.

See you when I see you.
A

Arguments

It bothers me a lot when people try to have conversations with me when they do either or both of the following... Assert a false dominance, or assume that their position is the correct one. When people do this I immediately become defensive because I don't know how to have an appropriate or constructive conversation or argument with those types of people. In my defensiveness I often stray towards the rhetorical usage of pathos, which constantly, time and time again, destroys the basis of my argument. Like any stereotypical siblings would fight, I get hurt by the metaphorical older brother or sister and whether or not that hurt was physical, I immediately scream, "Mom!!!! He hurt me!!!!" and run away crying. Unfortunately, running away crying is even less constructive and appropriate than the arguments I find myself in in the first place, and while my gut tells me it would be nice to do just that, my brain tells me it's a bad idea.

When I get into situations like this, it's rare that I make it out in a positive manner. In those situations I feel cornered, and I end up changing both my identity and my argument to adjust to the way others see the situation. However, this immediately crushes my argument and ends up making matters worse.

I struggle to maintain my inward identity when others assume its position and reactions in a way I know they cannot possibly do. People cannot know the way I think, and so in situations like this I tend to change my outward identity so they think they know how I think and feel. This muddles things even further than they've already been muddled, and then I don't even know what to do.

My relationships with other people tend to be healthy and constructive, but in situations like this, everything is flung out of balance and the harmony that I usually find with the outside world is disturbed.

I don't really have a conclusion for this piece except to say that acknowledging this is a positive step forward. Until this morning, when I was in a situation such as this, I never even tried to understand why I respnded the way I do to these situations. But when I stopped and tried to analyze my thoughts, this is ehat I found. And, I suppose I'll just try to move on from here.

See you when I see you.
A

Memories

This is something I found today while rooting through old word files... I wrote it 24 days after officially starting my relationship with J. and it is probably the cutest and most sincere documents I have about new love. :) Enjoy.

There is something about falling in love.

It’s incredibly terrifying to face new insecurities. You want to ask them, beg them to tell you what their opinion is of all of your own fears about yourself. Even if it’s bad, you just want to know. But when they tell you that they don’t mind, even love, something you thought you were ashamed of, it only makes you like them more. How can we not, as humans? It’s our condition to want to be loved. We think we don’t fit in, and somebody comes around that finally shows us how our puzzle piece slips into place.

And everything you notice about that person, every new little thing… The way their hair falls. The color of their eyes. The shape of their face. The feel of their lips against yours. Their hand in yours, your hand in theirs. The way their arms feel wrapped around you. Their ticklish spots that nobody else knows about. The sound of their voice, their laugh, their whisper. Everything new presents one with this incredible breath of fresh air that can be overwhelming, like how taking too many deep breaths of oxygen can make you feel dizzy. But besides that dizzying, disorientation called getting to know someone, there is an amazing feeling that not only lets you experience another person as intimately as you may experience yourself, but also allows you to feel the amazing diversity of the world wrapped up in this new little package of happiness and wonder.

There is also the ever-present uncertainty in new and developing love. “Are they going to call me? Should I call them first? What if they don’t want to talk to me? Am I over-thinking this?” But this uncertainty, this is simple and shallow compared to the uncertainty of the first use of the word love. Oh, does anybody in the universe ever feel confident in their first utterance of “I love you”? I suppose there are some cases, but I haven’t experienced that ever, not yet.

No, what I am experiencing is this pull, this total desire at times, when he is sad or remembering painful memories, or when he is happy, giddy even, with playfulness and excitement, or when he stares into my eyes for hours and it’s like he’s the first one to see all of me and truly accept and want all of what he sees. It bubbles in my throat, pricks at my tongue and nags at my vocal chords, my lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you”. But do I? What IS love? I feel that I’m certainly on my way to something truly special with this man. But are we there yet? In the middle of a deep talk, or when he tells me something personal… When kissing him, just kissing him, is all I need, all I want, and the most breathtaking and whole thing I have felt in so long… When he, the silent type, says something incredibly touching, looking me right in the eyes… When he holds me, and I feel like the world is a little more empty when he’s no longer there… When his shirt, huge on me, but not smelling at all like him is still a comfort to me just because it’s his… All of those moments, I feel in love. That is, if in love is when you need the other person as a constant in your life as common as food or water. If love is when you can’t bear the thought of them lying to you. If love is when you totally trust them with all your secrets, all your dark pasts, all your fears and insecurities, all your imperfections, and all of your opinions. If love is when you’re taken by complete surprise every single time when they catch you up in a huge hug, or a tight embrace, or an unexpected kiss, and that surprise turns into a happiness that comes from being wanted, being admired, being special. If love is when that person makes you truly feel like you belong, and that you are nothing short of beautiful to them, in all ways, in any outfit, any bad hair day, any bad day in general, any circumstance.

If all that is being in love, I’m certainly there.

Is he? Can I know that, unless he says so? Should I say so?

It’s something about falling in love, I guess. 

See you when I see you. 

A

Beginning

The night we said I love you for the first time, and the conversation before it. Enjoy.

(me) I want to be held by you. Not alone. I hate alone. Hate it. Love being with you. Love you holding me.

(J.) I love having you in my arms and just being with you.

I love being yours. I love when you surprise me again and again with your hugs and your kisses and I love that you think I'm beautiful.

I love that I found someone like you from the ashes of a shitty life.

I love that we make each other so incredibly happy. I love making you smile, making you laugh, making you happy, making you calm.

I love being able to be the real me with you, and being able to open up to you about my past.

I love that you trust me and that I trust you. I love how you take every single thing I hate about myself and show me that I'm wrong.

I love gazing into your gorgeous sparkling eyes.

And I love staring back into your eyes and realizing that I love every single thing about you.

I love getting lost in your enchanting beauty and never wanting to be found.

I love the feeling of you being the center of my entire universe, my center of gravity, and feeling grounded and safe only with you by my side.

I love always having you there by my side to give me a firm grasp on what's important in life and to me.

I love how incredibly talented and focused you are. I love how you are amazing in everything you do.

I love knowing that even on my lowest days there is someone there reaching to pull me back up.

I love being there for you when you're anything less than perfectly happy.

I love loving everything about you.

***

And then I called him and we whispered "I love you" for the first time to each other ever. And it was spontaneous and we were alone in the night but we held each other through phone lines and it was beautiful. I eventually sent him another message...

I love loving you.

And he said; I love loving you, too ^^

That same night when I wrote all this down, I prefaced it with the following statement: "The following needs to be remembered forever. Because no matter what happens next, this is the beauty and innocence of new love."

I also closed the page with: "This is real. I feel love. That is all I need."

I love him. So much.

What are your cute stories about the first use of I love you ? Let me know!!

See you when I see you.
A

Judgement

Recently I've had a tense-at-best relationship with my mom, and I've narrowed it down to a couple of reasons. One of the main things that keeps coming back at me is that my mom and I are simply very different people, and that while I see this with ease, it mostly seems that she just DOESN'T see that, and this leads to several tiffs. One of the biggest differences between me and my mother is that she is very harshly judgmental, and tends to think that she is always right... I on the other hand like to look at all sides of an argument, and I never judge people off of superficial things like race or hobbies or looks, etc (while she most definitely does). This superficial/deeper meaning difference between us extends to several things, not just our views of the outside world. She tends to think she knows what other people think based solely on specific actions, while I wait and see how people react in a variety of situations before I attempt to say I know their personality. She tends to be offended easily by total strangers, while I usually give people the benefit of the doubt if I think they've been cross or unfair with me. She tends to see things under the light of "how will I appear to others" while I tend to ask myself "how does this personally benefit me in growth as a person". Etc, etc, etc.

Recently, the tension between us has been growing, and I have to admit that it really is mostly my fault. I really should practice what I preach about communication; I never tell my mom anything about what I really think. However, I do have good reasons. As I've said, she thinks very differently from me, and she is very judgmental. If I let her know that I disagree with every one of her principles, she would be heart broken at best, and assured of the fact that I was a devil-worshiping demon spawn crazy lady at worst. Anybody who disagrees with my mother is wrong, and for her own daughter to disagree? She would have an aneurysm. So I don't tell her how I feel about the world. I don't tell her how much I love philosophy, especially transcendentalism and existentialism, and I certainly don't bring up my liberal political views. I don't bring up topics of disagreement in a sincere attempt to be anything but disagreeable. Recently though, she's taken my usual silence to mean that I obviously hate her. **ugh**

I don't know how to change the quiet blissful-ignorance relationship that I've formed with my mom without breaking her heart or causing her to hate me. We simply are not the same person, and she'll never accept my principles as correct or decent or good-hearted. However, she doesn't understand my silence and usual standoff-ish-ness and I don't have any way to explain it to her. Do I continue to sit silently when she confronts me about it, boiling inside because of the tragic irony unfolding on the stage right in front of my eyes? Do I have any other choice? I don't know. I don't have an answer for this one.

Do you have similar relationships with your parents? Do you feel like it's impossible for them to totally understand you if they are simply not the understanding type? Or do you have very good relationships with your parents? Let me know!

See you when I see you.
A