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Jul. 22nd, 2011 04:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressA/N: This gets meandery. Sorry.
Sometimes I think society does not want me to show off that I am happy.
I get worried about being excited and squeeful about the simple adventures I have with the people I love. "And then we went to the science museum, and held hands as we watched the lightning show." is not a story in any artistic sense. There's no plot, no complication, no climax and denouement. He didn't have to change himself to get my love. I didn't have to create a wildly over-the-top romantic gesture. We are just two people who found each other, and then he was in town and we went to the science museum and held hands. And it made us happy.
And that's the important part. Our story doesn't have to play into the cynical stereotypes of miscommunication and drama that form the world's perception of how romantic relationships are "meant" to go. There is another boy I am with, who I have had almost eleven months of very intense NewToy energy with. We snuggle up to each other on the subway, and kiss each other on the head, the neck, the cheek. We tell each other how much we love, and how happy we are to be together. And I'm so fucking pleased as punch about this, and it takes a lot to not just constantly make squeeful posts about the lovely things we've been up to.
But why don't I? Because I get worried about being shmoopy, about being viewed as love-sick and silly. The world is cynical right now and we're trapped in a place where liking something genuinely is not as common as liking it ironically. Relationships especially, are all always doomed to fail. You will never just meet your One True Soulmate and true love isn't real, after all.
And okay, maybe some sort of true love everlasting isn't real, in the sense that you can't go out and instantly find it. But even if you can't find it, maybe you can make it. Time and energy and trust. Respect and support. Being patient enough to find the connections, and wait when you have to, until everything is able to work out. Maybe we are shmoopy, not from some magic of having found the right person, but from some combination of time and patience and love. We have worked together to create a wonderful relationship, and fuckit, why *shouldn't* I be pleased as punch about that?
Sometimes I get worried about wanting to be shmoopy. Romance and Practicality sit on my shoulders some days, and argue like the devils and angels of yore. The argument makes my touches shy, my posture withdrawn, silencing the words I'd rather spill. "I love you" is too silly to say to some boys, when what is love anyways but a complicated chemical reaction, lacking sense or reason.
But you know what? In all the cases of silence, in all the places where I worry of narrative strength, or cynicism, or reason? Fuck the haters. I am happy and they are happy and we are happy together.
And there's not a single thing the world can do about that.
~Sor
MOOP!
Sometimes I think society does not want me to show off that I am happy.
I get worried about being excited and squeeful about the simple adventures I have with the people I love. "And then we went to the science museum, and held hands as we watched the lightning show." is not a story in any artistic sense. There's no plot, no complication, no climax and denouement. He didn't have to change himself to get my love. I didn't have to create a wildly over-the-top romantic gesture. We are just two people who found each other, and then he was in town and we went to the science museum and held hands. And it made us happy.
And that's the important part. Our story doesn't have to play into the cynical stereotypes of miscommunication and drama that form the world's perception of how romantic relationships are "meant" to go. There is another boy I am with, who I have had almost eleven months of very intense NewToy energy with. We snuggle up to each other on the subway, and kiss each other on the head, the neck, the cheek. We tell each other how much we love, and how happy we are to be together. And I'm so fucking pleased as punch about this, and it takes a lot to not just constantly make squeeful posts about the lovely things we've been up to.
But why don't I? Because I get worried about being shmoopy, about being viewed as love-sick and silly. The world is cynical right now and we're trapped in a place where liking something genuinely is not as common as liking it ironically. Relationships especially, are all always doomed to fail. You will never just meet your One True Soulmate and true love isn't real, after all.
And okay, maybe some sort of true love everlasting isn't real, in the sense that you can't go out and instantly find it. But even if you can't find it, maybe you can make it. Time and energy and trust. Respect and support. Being patient enough to find the connections, and wait when you have to, until everything is able to work out. Maybe we are shmoopy, not from some magic of having found the right person, but from some combination of time and patience and love. We have worked together to create a wonderful relationship, and fuckit, why *shouldn't* I be pleased as punch about that?
Sometimes I get worried about wanting to be shmoopy. Romance and Practicality sit on my shoulders some days, and argue like the devils and angels of yore. The argument makes my touches shy, my posture withdrawn, silencing the words I'd rather spill. "I love you" is too silly to say to some boys, when what is love anyways but a complicated chemical reaction, lacking sense or reason.
But you know what? In all the cases of silence, in all the places where I worry of narrative strength, or cynicism, or reason? Fuck the haters. I am happy and they are happy and we are happy together.
And there's not a single thing the world can do about that.
~Sor
MOOP!
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no subject
on 2011-07-22 08:07 pm (UTC)And Yay for being happy too! ^_^
all I have to say without getting non-usefully discursive is:
on 2011-07-22 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2011-07-22 11:43 pm (UTC)You can still be stupid in love with someone for decades. In love enough that the waitress one night asks you how old you are because she thinks only people who are 13 spend that much time at a table holding hands and grinning at each other and not saying anything.
I, for one, love to hear real-life love stories. The not-Hollywoodness of them just makes it all better.
no subject
on 2011-07-25 05:23 pm (UTC)And frankly, the world is more positive than you might think to out and out displays of affection. Certainly,
no subject
on 2011-07-22 08:21 pm (UTC)Ok, stop right there. Who the fuck told you that you have to write ANYthing in this journal (or elsewhere) to please us? Who made you hold your muse hostage to our collective whim? Who has allowed you to stifle yourself, your words, your joy just because of how you would be perceived?
This is YOUR space, your time, your place for your words. If you want to write something, then dammit, WRITE IT. If someone doesn't want to read it, that's on them.
You do an excellent job at cut-tagging stuff, allowing those who want to skip right over subjects X, Y and Z to go blithely on their way, blissfully ignorant of your thoughts. But you still write/post/share/speak those thoughts. Because you can.
If you want to be all joyful and schmoopy and lovey-dovey then BE that. Write that. Because that's the honest reflection of who you are and what you are feeling at that exact moment in the universal space/time continuum... which will never pass this way again. If you feel like society won't want to hear it, then cut-tag it and fuck 'em. But write write write. Speak out here so you don't fear speaking out elsewhere. Because once the self-censoring starts, it scope-creeps really fast. I know - I'm fighting my own inner editor ALL the time.
no subject
on 2011-07-22 08:35 pm (UTC)You just need to write more...
on 2011-07-22 08:44 pm (UTC)If you write about your life, your whole life, then the shmoopy parts will be represented, but it won't be all that's represented.
When you write about gender issues, especially gender issues affecting you, it isn't shmoopy, but it's interesting to read. When you write about dancing, it isn't shmoopy (or at least, not usually). When you write about what you had for (insert meal of your choice), it's probably not going to be shmoopy.
To take your example, there is a lot that can be said about a trip to the science museum -- details of the lightning show, other interesting exhibits, if there is anything new since your last visit, etc -- of which holding hands while watching the lightning show is the only shmoopy bit. Heck, if shmoopy was all there was to the visit to the science museum, why bother going?
I don't believe in One True Soulmates, as there are Many Potential Soulmates. Tim Minchin has a song about it (If I Didn't Have You). So anyone giving you grief because they say you'll never find your One True Soulmate -- and thus denying your bi-poly-switch-and-not-sleeping-with-you nature -- they need to bugger off and let you be shmoopy with your Harem of Soulmates.
no subject
on 2011-07-22 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2011-07-22 11:41 pm (UTC)Not a story?
on 2011-07-22 11:49 pm (UTC)But it made me smile, so I think it counts.
So there!
no subject
on 2011-07-23 01:36 pm (UTC)I see you making a couple of statements about the world, society, haters, and stereotypes. I also see you talking about being worried.
But input comes from people. You don't hang out in 'society', you hang out with contra dancers and gamers! You're a walking anti-stereotype. You may live in the world, but you know full well that every person who hasn't managed to leave orbit does too.
So I think the question is, are you getting the impression from actual people who perceive you? Because if so, they can be educated or ignored. How sad for them that they don't understand love, because love is and yes, you can build it and uplift it.
But if you aren't getting that impression from actual people who perceive you? Well, no one need be fucked (except in a positive, orgasmic sort of way), since the haters aren't there! I can understand feeling worried or anxious anyway, but I think you'll find that most of the people with whom you make contact will be cheerfully supportive of your schmoop.
no subject
on 2011-07-23 07:54 pm (UTC)thanks for articulating that.
liking things ironically, i think, means that people make fun of things. in this case, making fun of people who are in happy relationships, or being in a relationship that you think is doomed to fail is "ironic", most likely, because people are scared. they're scared because the idea of a relationship has changed, and someone can be in a relationship for a very short period of time. it's become some kind of new "norm", and with that "normal" idea comes the "abnormal" idea that people can love each other for a very long time, and not get bored with each other.
to give an anecdote from queer as folk, which is what i'm really into, at the moment: one of the characters has an entire relationship in one night. the characters meet, talk, get to know each other, kind of fall in love but not really, talk about what kind of house they're going to have in the country, and then one of the guys sees another man and decides to go off with him.
because everything in the world has sped up (things change with time), relationships have now sped up, too.
no subject
on 2011-07-23 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2011-07-24 06:26 pm (UTC)As a general rule, I love my life. I feel accomplished and joyous and competent, and my job makes me incredibly happy, and I'm routinely surrounded by people who love me in a variety of complicated, beautiful ways, and it is all wonderful.
But when things are going really, really well for me, I'm afraid to talk about them - sometimes for fear of evoking cynicism, but more often for fear of hurting the feelings of people who are not having such a great time.
With that said? For all of me, schmoop away in your LJ. Hooray, life is good for you! This is a good thing!