There's a certain someone for whom, for a while now, I have been feeling
tender feelings, and earlier this week an opportunity arose to mention
my crush. Naturally I was nervous about it, but it felt right, so out
the words came...and I could plainly see that my words and the feeling
behind them very much pleased and moved the object of my affection. I
don't have any idea yet where we might be headed, but we're talking, and
in the meantime, two wonderful things have happened in our exchange
which, regardless of outcome, already make it a complete and positive
experience for me.
The first is that from my c.s.'s clearly unfeigned tender response I received a powerful message of the inherent value to this person of the love I have to offer. I strongly exhibit the (what I take to be) feminine trait of instantly internalizing other peoples' thoughts/feelings/judgements about me, so one of the most insidious after-effects of my divorce a few years ago was a sense I could not shake of the worthlessness of my love. No amount of rational self-exhortation has been able to lessen the profound conviction I have felt that no one could ever possibly want me...until my c.s. was so touched by my expression of affection. Wow.
The second wonderful thing is that, for the first time in my life, I approach romance honestly. Always, until now, as soon as there was a possibility of significant emotional exchange, my gender-lie intruded. As soon as I felt attraction, I had to start thinking what a man would do. My dates/girlfriends/wife no doubt found me stiff, stilted, subtly false, because I was trying to impersonate a thing I never was. And there was another pernicious side-effect: I felt a secret contempt for women who were interested in me, because I could see that I was fooling them, that they bought the lie.
Now I have the chance to love as, and be loved for, myself. Such a simple notion. My risk is greater, because that old man-shell not only obscured me, it insulated me too...but the potential reward is also greater...to be seen, to be known, to be loved for who I really am. Wow, double wow, again and again. And one of the things which endears me so to my c.s. is that I do feel that this person sees the woman I am, and values and perhaps even cherishes feminine me. For the first time in my life, when I begin to sense that the person I care for might also care for me, my respect for that person increases. I am after all a very strange sort of woman...to be receptive to the idea of romance with me takes, it seems to me, rare human insight, generosity, and self-confidence. What's not to admire? :-)
I am keenly aware of the novelty of my experience, and so wary...I am in a way 16 years old and navigating my first crush...but I am also 48 and at least somewhat wise and more than a little strong and able to take care of myself. So let what will happen happen. I'm ready.
The astute reader will have noted that I have not only avoided mentioning my c.s.'s name, but also that person's gender. Clever, no? I'm enjoying being coy...one of many feminine prerogatives... ;-)
The first is that from my c.s.'s clearly unfeigned tender response I received a powerful message of the inherent value to this person of the love I have to offer. I strongly exhibit the (what I take to be) feminine trait of instantly internalizing other peoples' thoughts/feelings/judgements about me, so one of the most insidious after-effects of my divorce a few years ago was a sense I could not shake of the worthlessness of my love. No amount of rational self-exhortation has been able to lessen the profound conviction I have felt that no one could ever possibly want me...until my c.s. was so touched by my expression of affection. Wow.
The second wonderful thing is that, for the first time in my life, I approach romance honestly. Always, until now, as soon as there was a possibility of significant emotional exchange, my gender-lie intruded. As soon as I felt attraction, I had to start thinking what a man would do. My dates/girlfriends/wife no doubt found me stiff, stilted, subtly false, because I was trying to impersonate a thing I never was. And there was another pernicious side-effect: I felt a secret contempt for women who were interested in me, because I could see that I was fooling them, that they bought the lie.
Now I have the chance to love as, and be loved for, myself. Such a simple notion. My risk is greater, because that old man-shell not only obscured me, it insulated me too...but the potential reward is also greater...to be seen, to be known, to be loved for who I really am. Wow, double wow, again and again. And one of the things which endears me so to my c.s. is that I do feel that this person sees the woman I am, and values and perhaps even cherishes feminine me. For the first time in my life, when I begin to sense that the person I care for might also care for me, my respect for that person increases. I am after all a very strange sort of woman...to be receptive to the idea of romance with me takes, it seems to me, rare human insight, generosity, and self-confidence. What's not to admire? :-)
I am keenly aware of the novelty of my experience, and so wary...I am in a way 16 years old and navigating my first crush...but I am also 48 and at least somewhat wise and more than a little strong and able to take care of myself. So let what will happen happen. I'm ready.
The astute reader will have noted that I have not only avoided mentioning my c.s.'s name, but also that person's gender. Clever, no? I'm enjoying being coy...one of many feminine prerogatives... ;-)
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