The Truth Will Set You Free.

I know when I’ve written something of significance. The previous entry is one of those times. And to think I started off so calm. A blank mind, I was unsure I’d find the fire. Even I don’t know where to start, so I just started. I knew the general ideas I wanted to hit. If I had outlined it, I probably would have lost a train of thought completely. I do tend to skip around, yet there is a gentle fluidity to it. You can’t teach how I organize my thoughts. It’s something I’ve developed through practice.

My goal was not to write something that would convince a staunt pro-circ person to come over to the Right Side. Because they are wrong. I’m tired of being all nice and politically correct. Nor was I aiming at fence-sitters, either. I remember Dolor Angelicus once saying that I was alienating mothers, and therefore the very people I was trying to convince, with my attitude. But, that entry was for me. Oh sure, it’s meant to be written and celebrated, but that entry is about how I feel. As always, if you just lay your emotions out on the line, nobody can hurt you.

No punches pulled, no silly pro/con list. I think I finally really touched the core of it. Argue long enough, you see what really motivates people has nothing to do with anything that’s typically argued. But I’m not about to reiterate what was said. I realized it had been a while since I’d really written about circumcision, and more importantly, I felt I should write why it bothers me. I’m sure there’s plenty of things I missed, such as how women prefer intact penis. Those that have an intact partner will rave. But that’s such a small point that I didn’t think to bring it up. That’s something for girls to gossip over. My opinion would be marginalized anyway, and I would be accused of foreskin-envy, then be told I’ve never had it, so how would I know?

*rolls eyes* Well, duh I have foreskin envy. Same way girls get penis envy. It’s something to play with that you don’t have!

But this entry isn’t about circumcision. No, I want to talk about something else. I believe I’ve come closer to tapping my emotional core. Oh. One last thing before I drop it. Normally after I write a circumcision entry, I feel angry and drained and.. weak. I feel like a, well, victim! I emphasis “victim” to make a point, but you know what that entry makes me feel?

Empowered. I feel absolved. Like so many times when I just say how I feel as plainly as possible, emotional honesty has set me free. Maybe I’ll have a moment in the future where I don’t feel okay about it. But now, I feel good.

So I delve deeper. I had a grasp on this last night, but it’s starting to fade from me. The need for love. But more specifically, maternal love.

Hello, Freud.

I look at my pattern of female friendships. For years, I’ve tried to deny it, avoid it. I try to let people be who they are. But one way or another, I can not escape wanting to place a maternal role on female friends. I want them to care for me, look after me. Replace mommy? Realistically, I doubt it. Nobody really wants their parents, we’re simply given an archtype to model the world by our parents.

The need for maternal love, what does that stem from? I do not believe this stems from absence, but rather because it was there. Yet regardless of the reason, the Abandonment Scenario arose when I felt I had lost that maternal love, that maternal connection.

Do I seek out girls that will fulfill that maternal need? I’m not entirely sure. While I obviously have wanted girls to care for me in that deep regard, I don’t believe any of them did. Which brings me to an obvious conclusion: The average 22 year old girl is not emotionally mature enough to handle me. Girls are too wrapped up in their own emotions to care about mine. This is not an insult, just casual observation. Most girls who can emotionally handle me are at least twenty-six. Meaning, the only girls who can handle me emotionally are moms. That amuses me.

(I said most. I know who the exceptions are. Relax!)

I’m always so hard on myself. It’s like I’ve inherited the female biological clock that says, “YOU HAVE TO PROCREATE NOW.” But recognizing just how far ahead of the curve I am is humbling. It means I have time. It means I can be patient. It means my potential partner is probably maturing right now.

Deeper. The reconnection of maternal love is the reason I have such a heavy submissive streak. I’ve lost my zeal for this entry, but maybe because it’s so plain to me now. To be a little boy again. Innocence. This is my true nature. I will never be satisfied with emotionally shallow relationships. My nature demands intimacy. I don’t know what other people live, how other people connect. All I know is I’ve been troubled for so long simply because I’ve wanted to be loved so deeply. I’ve been troubled because I couldn’t admit that final step, the need for that kind of love.

I feel like I’m not making sense.

Look at all these defense mechanisms. One piled on another, they all have this one single source. For once upon a time, I do remember being close with my mother. I remember growing a little, and still wanting that guidance, that protection. It does not matter the reason, does it? I remember drifting from her. Why? I do not know. Maybe that natural inclination to separate yourself from your parents. But somewhere in there, they dropped the ball and due to my own lack of interest in them, I suppose I became a victim of neglect. So right there, little nine year old Timmy, the walls started being built. Not a fortress, I could still accept affection at that time.

Come puberty and teenagerness, I found it hard to accept praise. Of course I was not aware of this at the time. I wanted them to take that one extra step. I’d resist them, hoping they’d see that I needed them in some regard – but they’d never notice. Hello passive aggressiveness. So I sunk into a self-protective hole. To protect myself from lack of love. Any issues I have with my dad, I think, are just an offshoot of this core. Feeling not good enough, that pressure to be good enough to them, is just a desire to feel loved. Isn’t there a phrase that our mothers raise us, and our fathers lead us into the world? I suppose they both dropped the ball in that regard.

I believe I was told (by multiple people) that I’d eventually have to accept my parents as humans. This is about as close as I’ve gotten, inadvertantly.

So what happens when you reach the source? And I’m not talking about The Architect. Does a wave of reconciliation go through my brain and everything’s suddenly better? Heh, we wish. But, at least I’ve found my calm, for the moment. I’m one step closer to understanding my own needs.

Am I needy, or do I just have needs? Are they needs or are they just wants? It’s a curious question, what do I need from a girl? All this psychobabble aside, I truely believe I’m a simple person to deal with. A simple calm in complexity. I sometime speak in such a powerfully plain way that it goes over people’s head. Though, I suppose dual-meaningsentences aren’t exactly “simple”, they just seem the easiest and most reduced way to express things at times. Thus, they’re not simple in the volume of meaning, but the volume of test.

*giggles* On a completely unrelated note, I said to my dad, “Good and bad merely represent a dichotomy of food that we Will or Won’t eat, they are not a reflection of the food’s qualitative value.” I had a good steak at Outback. Good. Not great. Oh no. It was a fourteen dollar steak, which will never, ever taste like a forty dollar steak. Mmm, a forty dollar steak. *quietly ejaculates in his knickers*

None of this is to claim that the single thing I need is love. We all need love, that’s not a need isolated to me. Emotional security is merely one facet. The depth and fulfillment I get from submission is only half of the coin. A large half, but still half. Something else is expressed in me when a girl is emotionally vulnerable. I can sense that vulnerability. I cherish it. I handle it with care, stroke it gently.

Nobody is one way constantly, we are a plethora of many emotions which are expressed at different times. This journey has been mostly emotional. FInding emotions I’ve been afraid to express. Once I face my pain, be honest with it, then I’m free. This is why Star Trek V is still one of my favorite movies. Share your pain, and gain strength from the sharing. When you’re honest with yourself emotionally, nothing can hurt you. The simply reiterating of, “Why does this bother me?” Once that root is expressed, at least personally, I find the thing stops bothering me anymore.

Corral my emotions and charge forth? No, no need for a battle cry today.

Just a quiet understanding, as I’m sure this realistic will eventually cause a cascade effect there, if I’m paying attention to my emotions, I will notice other things.

I’m always a little closer than I give myself credit for. I get so bogged down in my defense mechanisms that I can’t see the sun. I can’t see the hope right in front of me. I don’t think I have anything else to say other than I squatted 95 lbs for 4 sets of 8. *giggles*