double lives.
The other night, Gabriel made a comment about my “secret life.”
“What secret life?” I said.
I felt like I’d been so transparent with him that it hit me hard when he said it. Especially since I’ve been hearing this a lot, that there’s a lot I don’t reveal about myself, that I’m restrained, or evasive, or veiled. I’ve heard this about my writing and I’ve heard it from men I sleep with. When I try to express myself, I only express myself in fragments, and I wonder if I’m stuck in some perpetually impressionistic whore-mode. When I blog, it’s deliberate, but it isn’t deliberate in my private life. I need to get un-stuck.
Fuckbuddy used to ask me if I felt like the clients were changing me. He said that he had a hard time believing I could do what I do and not change, and we’d argue over this, roughly, until the arguing would tumble into his bedroom and we’d fuck it out. I’ve mentioned here before that with clients I needed to maintain strict boundaries while pretending that those boundaries didn’t exist, so I learned to switch on and off emotionally. But I’ve always been good at switching on and off, so it becomes a chicken/egg question: did the sex work change me, or was I just well-suited for the work to being with?
I had drinks with an ex the other night, so I asked if I’ve always been so evasive and distant. He’s known me for almost a decade.
“Well,” he said. “You’ve always done your own thing.”
“What does that mean, though?”
“I don’t know. I just never felt welcome, you know?”
That hurt. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
I worry that I’m treating Gabriel like a client, in which case fuckbuddy might be right. But it’s much more unnerving to think that I’ve always been this way. And maybe I’ve just found comfort and an excuse in perpetual pseudonymity.
27 comments to “double lives.”
On July 14th, 2008 at 8:15 am, monochromist said...
http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes1.htm
might be a starting point for you to find out. it helped me answer similar questions about myself.
enjoy!
On July 14th, 2008 at 8:21 am, ian in london said...
“And maybe I’ve just found comfort and an excuse in perpetual pseudonymity.”
Maybe that’s part - just part - of what makes you attractive?
On July 14th, 2008 at 10:49 am, debauchette said...
Ian, I wonder that sometimes. It’s a little heartbreaking, though, to imagine that I can never open up without running the risk of killing attraction.
On July 14th, 2008 at 12:56 pm, Disconnected said...
D,
And what will happen if you arrive at the conviction that you indeed can never open up without the risk of ruining attraction? Is it worth taking the chance?
On July 14th, 2008 at 12:56 pm, Doctor M said...
I don’t think that personal reticence or a defense of one’s boundaries is necessarily a failing. And I’m not sure that pouring all of oneself out, even for a lover, is a good thing.
On July 14th, 2008 at 1:08 pm, Wallflower said...
Perhaps, it’s not just you, but them, too. They tell you, in some knowable way, they’re waiting for something, an opening, an invitation to a place you didn’t realize you were keeping them from. Well, maybe you weren’t. It takes two.
I think to over-consciously, or in some cases, petulantly, wait for someone to open up to us is to make that anticipation a source of stress for all. It’s hard to have a bare moment with that sort of pressure, however unintentional.
I don’t mean to say that that’s Gabriel or anyone else, just that the relationship issue is not all you. It never is.
On July 14th, 2008 at 1:36 pm, Athena said...
I’m the same way… I think for me, it was my last long relationship that changed me, and I became someone for whom sex work was easy. I mean, I have a voracious appetite for the physical, but it isn’t a connecting thing so much for me.
It’s hard, as my ex would say… I find myself thinking I’m answering a question, but apparently not in the way they are looking for at all, and I don’t see that I’ve missed anything in my answer, except what may be obvious to them.
There is a good and a bad to it, but who knows.
On July 14th, 2008 at 3:01 pm, Wendy said...
Transparency is overrated. It’s good for government. It’s good for structured therapy. It’s not really useful for much else.
Sometimes I feel like with every bit I reveal, I give away that portion of myself. This might be anectodal, but the relationships I’ve seen that work aren’t the ones where people sit face to face and spill their world to eachother. Honestly, this “best friend” phenomenon is a relatively recent one in history, but it’s obviously not lending to healthier, deeper, longer lasting relationships. Unless it relates directly to your interaction with that other person, it doesn’t all have to pour out, you know?
That bit of useless psychobabble from me was free, natch.
On July 14th, 2008 at 9:13 pm, badinfluencegirl said...
i’m not sure i want anyone to know all of me, how would i then be permitted to grow and change?
we see only the reflection anyway right?
i think you just be yourself as well as you can and if you are verra verra lucky you find someone that suits that self… or at least you learn to like it :)
On July 14th, 2008 at 11:02 pm, Tryingtolearn said...
badinfluencegirl has a good point…ambiguity is a very powerful tool as it maintains maximum flexibility whilst people tend to flesh out even cryptic comments.
One of my mentors is considered a master at this and I finally realized he started doing it as he has a mild speech impediment. He says very little and people feel he is intensely deep. No mistake, he is brilliant, but the effect is enhanced by his reticence to expound…so very few people know him well and the rest are constantly trying to figure him out. Meanwhile he carries on and appears to enjoy the “dialog”.
On July 15th, 2008 at 12:08 am, LuckySeven said...
I don’t say this lightly but…..what a lot of bullshit. The comments I mean, not the post.
If being unavailable is one of the main things that makes you attractive, that’s only true for a certain kind of person. It can also make someone walk away to find more connection, sometimes even the same person who was initially attracted by the chase, once they tire of grasping at smoke.
Doctor M. and Wendy, there is plenty of grey between the fragmented disconnection D is writing about and “pouring all of oneself out” or “spilling your world.” There’s no value in endorsing one extreme by caricaturing the other.
In that grey area, where we’re trying to be both open but playful, coy but connected, we can forge an intimacy that still allows for heat and raunch and furniture-breaking sex.
It’s not all or nothing, evasive-but-hot or connected-but-frumpy. This is basic David Deida. I know because in my 20’s I had those relationships where we talked about *everything* and I did want to be best friends, and yes it did sometimes kill attraction. But I’ve also been the aloof but oh-so-interesting one, and believe me, it’s bullshit on both sides after the initial projections crash into reality.
I wonder what it says about us as readers that most of the first comments overwhelmingly want to placate and sooth D., to reassure and reaffirm her as she is now, rather than to let her sit with her doubt and see where it might lead.
On July 15th, 2008 at 7:30 am, collegehookerboy said...
“But I’ve always been good at switching on and off, so it becomes a chicken/egg question: did the sex work change me, or was I just well-suited for the work to ‘begin’ with?”
-Aw, something about that makes me feel sad. Like the pretty girl who is never ever able to truly open herself up to the world. At the same time, however, I envy people who have strict (even too strict) boundaries. Its better than having no boundaries and being an open book.
On July 15th, 2008 at 8:33 am, badinfluencegirl said...
maybe that we too are attracted to the fragments she gives us because they are fragments. i don’t think so though, i tend to feel that her posts are either complete thoughts or well considered questions.
i just can’t help feeling that somehow with fragments she may perhaps be being more honest than those of us who ‘let it all hang out.’ but maybe not.
regardless, i stand by the thought that all one can really do is try to know oneself, to be true to oneself, to be the very best you that you can which tends to lead to that same behaviour toward others anyway.
if you are doing that i think you will find attractive others of a similar ilk and vice versa. strangely enough, at least from her posts, i get the sense that with gabriel she is more open than she tends to be. but again, that’s only from her posts.
On July 15th, 2008 at 10:02 am, Wallflower said...
Well, speaking for myself, it’s true, I did want to make her feel better. I like D. I also stand behind my comment as sound, balanced, and hardly absolving. Having doubts can be healthy for resolutions and revelations, stewing in them, usually isn’t and figuring an intimacy issue (real or perceived) between two people is a one-sided problem (which is impossible), certainly is not healthy .
I don’t mind when someone cries bullshit. It usually leads to deeper discussion. Though, I’ll admit to being irritated by the general tone and disingenuous use of “us” in LS’s rant.
On July 15th, 2008 at 10:07 am, Charity said...
Life does not come with a narrative. Life is the result of an infinite number of monkeys banging away at their keyboards, spewing random events and dialog into the experiences of 6 billion narrators.
It’s the fragmentary nature of this blog that makes it feel so real to me. Sometimes things turn out to be important, sometimes they don’t. Not every storyline has an ending, because you’re not dead yet. You’re not a character, you’re a person and people are *different* around different people. The self is not concrete and whole, it is organic and fragmentary.
I am going to speculate wildly.
I suspect that you dress up your personality for your clients and undress it with your intimates. I suspect that you don’t feel compelled to present a whole picture, a complete narrative of a person because it would be just that, a narrative, and you shouldn’t always have to tell people stories about how much you like them, how good of a fit the two of you are.
I think you are treating Gabriel exactly un-like a client. The thing about transparency is that it’s so hard to see.
On July 15th, 2008 at 12:11 pm, Kelly said...
It’s one of the dangers of being in Sex Work. The ability to consciously separate the client and the love is easy, but the way your body works and you treat the act is all subconscious. As soon as you’ve become so used to shutting down with clients, it becomes habit with all sexual encounters.
As much as you love your lovers, sometimes you can’t shut off the off switch. While you want to completely whole with your love…you just sometimes can’t.
I think you are probably doing the best you can with Gabriel. Everything you’ve written seems like love. And you seem like you are trying to give him your all. Sometimes, it just can’t happen though.
On July 15th, 2008 at 4:05 pm, madame kansas said...
i am not speaking on sex work - but i find myself, over and over, trying to fit everything in it’s little compartment. my lover here and my job there and my friends over there.
i know it causes some tensions when people are insecure - but it seems to be the only way i feel i can satisfy my multifaceted personality. i have many different faces and play many different roles in my life, and don’t do them all comfortably in front of everyone.
this doesn’t mean the lines of these ‘compartments’ don’t change or morph or grow or shrink or shift dramatically.
above all, certainly question it, but don’t open yourself until you feel safe. and if you need to ’switch off,’ it is your instincts taking over. trust them.
On July 15th, 2008 at 5:12 pm, londonchick said...
D, If you want hot sex in a relationship and you want that to last, you need a spark. And sparks only travel across gaps. Always keep a little bit of yourself to yourself. We’re all too hung up on some quasi-romantic ideal pinned on the notion that complete self-revelation brings closeness. It’s quite the opposite infact….
On July 15th, 2008 at 10:00 pm, gillette said...
I cannot tell from the post if you get the same feedback from women, too, or only men.
I experience your writing as quiet, direct, well thought out. Do you communicate like this in person? I echo tryingtolearns’ statement about quiet people. People project all sorts of stuff onto the quiet ones, mostly that they are “mysterious” (while they, themselves, don’t feel mysterious nor are they trying to be).
I have also noticed over the years that people project tons onto those they consider “strong.” They don’t allow for the accompanying “weak” in the person, feel shut out because they separate themselves with their hierarchical vision. Most people don’t place themselves on pedestals…others put them there, even when they try to jump off.
I, for one, get tired of being transparent then having people tell me I’m not. Makes me wonder if they are listening, if they understand the depths of what I tell them or what they think they need…none of which is under my control.
I sometimes wonder if there is any way to hurdle/overcome the screen we all operate from and truly connect with anyone else outside our vision of them.
On July 15th, 2008 at 11:04 pm, LuckySeven said...
This is one of those nuanced discussions where I feel like a written exchange is so insufficient, and a real conversation would be so much better. I keep writing and then deleting what I want to say here.
Wallflower I completely agree that it takes two and that one person on their own is never the full story of any relationship. But one person can reflect on their motivation, their effect on others, and whether they want to try something new. I don’t think this means that the others have no role or bear no responsibility.
Essentially I feel that D is asking a valuable and difficult question. And I guess I feel that several of the responses (not all) can be boiled down to “don’t worry about it, don’t feel bad, just keep doing what you’re doing.” And I worry that it’s already difficult enough to wonder, to confront oneself, without getting that kind of feedback.
So, D., what do *you* think?
On July 15th, 2008 at 11:25 pm, eve said...
londonchick, it depends on what kind of relationship and what kind of personalities. Intimacy and sex should go together when two people are in love.
On July 16th, 2008 at 11:59 am, Wallflower said...
Of course, Lucky, very well put. I didn’t mean to make it sound otherwise in my comments, just that a balanced perspective should be applied in gauging responsibility or in whether there’s even any responsibility to gauge.
Here’s a thought, D. Maybe being deliberate (like the blog writing) isn’t such a bad exercise for you and Gabriel. Maybe, it’s truly habitual, which is good news, because the desire to change it is there and all that is required is some retraining.
If this isn’t really about Gabriel, specifically, deliberate intimacy exercises could still be helpful, until it becomes more natural.
The fun (and maybe a little scary) part would be coming up with what these exercises might be, maybe even together. Maybe that’s the exercise! Now I’m getting goofy.
On July 16th, 2008 at 3:00 pm, gillette said...
This is a good and timely post for me. I’m enjoying the discussion because it’s up for me in many arenas. What it brings up:
The thing with relationships and projections is that we get so stuck in them that it’s difficult to discern what’s truly going on. Only the Self can finally know who they are and what their intent is.
Does relationship deepen and expand when one person defines the other in any way? Are we doing the relationship or ourselves any service when we do anything but tell our truths in ways that cannot be argued?
Coming at it from my world: that Gabriel feels D has a secret life is his perception and “story,” not hers. Truth would be him saying he feels excluded, he doesn’t trust something, he’s lost and confused. He can say all sorts of things about himself that are true. But that doesn’t mean that’s The Truth or what’s going on for D (obviously it isn’t the truth for D as she stated she thought she was being transparent)…it just means it’s going on for him.
It’s when he brings this up and then finds out within HIMSELF why he would feel all that…not blaming D for his feelings, but owning them as his own…that things can start to shift for both him and D.
At this point, it sounds to me (yes..only sounds to me in my projection about a small snippet of life on a screen, probably with less than a quarter of the information included) like D is being labeled (secret, evasive, restrained, distant). It sounds to me like she’s questioning the various labels others are projecting onto her and seeing if they are a fit or not. They may provide useful information for her to consider and she gets to look at herself, which is all good stuff…but not necessarily true. It will be interesting to see where she goes with it.
And it is true that most every relationship problem or challenge I hear of simmers down to this dynamic at its core: one defines the other (unconsciously, often from fear); deciding intent based on their projection; then not allowing the other to define themselves by taking back their projection as a message to the self. We do it unconsciously, we do it relentlessly.
“Feedback” and projection are sooooo tricksily entwined. The older I get the more I question it. To remain open, recognize and bring back our projections offers the most enlivening potential for expanded relationship (of any sort) I’ve ever seen. And it’s the most difficult task. Easy to know about the dynamic, way more difficult to see ourselves caught in it, then shift gears.
Good luck in all this. To both of you.
On July 16th, 2008 at 9:15 pm, LuckySeven said...
I think this is now officially one of my favorite threads of comments : )
Wallflower, I so love your idea about the “intimacy exercises!” That’s kind of what I do for a living, and you were right to characterize my first post as a “rant.” I think my longing is usually for more closeness, although occasionally I am or have been the one who is more opaque. So when one of my (kind of) heroines seemed to be musing about being more transparent, of course I wanted her to explore that. It fits my need, doesn’t it? So much for Mr Altruism, huh?
gillette, I like what you say about people’s feedback often being projection, and not Truth. In fact, this is also part of what I do for a living - train people to give and receive feedback that is responsible (”this is my perception of you, not the Truth about you”). The other side of that coin is that in my world, if two or three people who know me well all share a common perception, it’s something I want to think seriously about.
D has cited Gabriel and the ex who has known her for almost a decade, and there seems to be a common thread. I guess my questions to you D would be
- what hurt when your ex said what he said?
- what would you do differently if you were treating Gabriel like the opposite of a client?
- what’s to be gained from being less opaque?
I realize some readers may pfffffft at me for being an amateur psychologist, but like Wallflower said, I like D and want her to be happy. I’ve admitted my bias above, that for me happiness has come with a certain strong element of disclosure, but I guess it’s that disclosure, esp of your sexual and emotional self, D., that has kept me coming back here.
Are you going to re-join us in the comments? Or be elusive ; )
On July 17th, 2008 at 10:05 pm, debauchette said...
I agree - this is another great comment thread. Sometimes people ask me why I allow comments on my blog, and this is why. There’s a lot of insight in what you all have to say and I feel lucky that you say it here.
L7 - I suppose it hurt knowing that I made him feel unwelcome in my life when that hadn’t been my intention. It hurt knowing that I’d made someone I cared about feel that way.
Your second question is tougher: “what would you do differently if you were treating Gabriel like the opposite of a client?”
Charity said something interesting. She speculated that I dress up my personality for clients. I think that’s not far off, though rather than dress it up I tend to make my personality fairly neutral. It’s been mentioned here that people tend to project their own ideas onto enigmatic or quiet personalities, so with clients that can be an advantage. For me, it’s always been a matter of being as genuine as possible without exposing too much of myself, or my emotions.
If I treat someone like an un-client, then I guess that means I let them see me in some complicated, flawed state. Maybe I express emotions I wouldn’t normally express. And maybe that’s what this is all about.
On July 17th, 2008 at 10:50 pm, badinfluencegirl said...
madame kansas i used to do that, be a different person in every situation.
i decided to go looking for the commonalities and figure out what i liked and didn’t like about it all and then i started to get more hrm… truly myself. i feel like the more myself i become the fewer fragments there are. that’s me of course, but i found that most of my chameleon was nervousness.
and i agree, this is some excellent comments section.
On August 23rd, 2008 at 12:29 am, museincognito said...
Interesting post, d.
I tend to enjoy my elusive streak, but have also found it uncomfortable to hear that I was somehow not sharing enough with someone I hadn’t realized I was holding back from.
Being self-aware is a gift. Even if you may not always expect the view others reflect back, it’s always an opportunity to see what you’re putting out there. It may be a delicate balance without betraying something natural about your personality and how you communicate, though the ability to actively evolve is brilliant. Patience is highly desirable in others while you modify what you can/want to, but somehow I get the feeling you are worth any extra effort.
Best in the journey!