Once upon a sad dream

It’s a tough thing being a feminine feminist. On the one hand, you can be accused of not being feminist enough and on the other hand, you are looked at as though you hate men. I don’t hate men. I also enjoy being able to shave my underarms and wear dresses. I want to be able to walk into work and not be treated as though I am lesser than, weaker. Which of course is tougher than usual given my industry. I want equal pay to my male counterparts. It’s tricky because I’m tired of men trying to step all over me. Both in my personal and professional life. I have to admit that I have never been submissive in any relationship I’ve been in, and I should never have to be. I don’t like the idea that I should have a man to take care of me. I believe that it’s an old way of thinking and something to be left in the past.

I’m the kind of woman who loves as passionately as I can hate. And I don’t hate much, it takes a lot to get me truly upset to bring that color out of me. When I love someone I hope sometimes beyond reason that the person loves me the same way. I have never met a man who loves me to my equal. I’ve perhaps had men who have been infatuated with me, boys who liked the idea of me. But I’ve never really had a man who loved me unconditionally and for themselves and myself. My ideas and perceptions of love have changed greatly over the course of just a couple of years, and I’ve found that maybe it’s not meant for everyone. Meaning that not everyone really gets to be loved. Isn’t it humanity’s greatest passion, love? And so many have never known what that feels like and not just in the romantic sense like the way I talk about it. There are those who go through life in such a way that it is heartbreaking that they never will know what it’s like to have that emotion or sense of happiness. And so even though I know this and I know that at least I have known some form of love, I find myself continuously heartbroken and torn over the idea of never finding that romanticized version of it. There are so many things I’ve dreamt of my life being, so many things I want to accomplish, and I still have the time to do it, it just seems so far out of reach. I know I can’t possibly be the only one who feels this way. I have to reach out and accomplish things that I want and I have to start doing it sooner rather than later. And yet I think I’m afraid that if I try and maybe start accomplishing these things that I’ll still be alone and it won’t mean anything. So I’m at a tug of war with myself. Fighting to be loved by someone but all the while wanting to be loved by everyone all at once. To do all the things I want to do and be and being afraid I never will. It scares me. It scares me to think I’m becoming closer to thirty and not having accomplished much at all. I know I’m still young and yet it’s not comforting to hear.

I don’t even love myself. I’m somehow still selfish despite this and I expect a lot of the world. And yet I’m heartbroken by the world as well. Humanity disappoints me and I disappoint me. I don’t think we will ever really understand ourselves which is why we’re always searching for more. Grass is always greener, isn’t that the saying?