What does it mean to be single for me?

Sometime at around March this year I peacefully ended a long-distance, long-term relationship, having decided singledom was the state I needed to inhabit for the time-being. I do have mixed feelings about being on my own again, but that's okay, as a part of me welcomes the chance to rediscover myself and what that will mean for future versions of me.

I was savouring a sandwich at my favourite cafe a few weeks ago, when I heard 'Hunter' by Dido over the chatter of the customers. 'I want to be / a hunter, again / I want to see / the world alone, again,' swelled the song, and made me pause the consumption of my savoury treat so I could better vibe with the vocals. 

Being co-dependent meant that I was always ready to alter my plans, if it meant it would please the other. As pleasant as the healthier aspects of the relationship were, this created anxiety often, and made me feel somewhat stifled. I put my own needs second more times than I care to admit. 

I'm going to try to grow my self-esteem with therapy and self-care, but until I do, any relationship I enter into will be much the same. 

One of the most formative things I intend to do in the upcoming years is move. I've finally figured out a way to do it on a pragmatic level, but I still haven't decided exactly where in the world to plant roots. Being single means that I can choose a location based solely on my internal compass, and not proximity to a romantic partner. 

It's not that I'm not that I'm not looking for a relationship - if one were to develop I would be happy about it. But being single is also liberating. It's not an inferior way of being, any more than being in a relationship is superior. It's simply another state of being through which I can flourish. And in 2017 it's a good cultural moment for being a solo poly who celebrates their achievements, is compassionate towards their weaknesses, and aims for equanimity, harmony and inner peace. 

Towards greater acceptance

When I was a teen and exploring my attraction to women, my father would spit out the word 'lesbian' with such venom that, to this day, I feel afraid of claiming the word. I can passively elect to identify as a lesbian, particularly if someone else is leading the conversation, but I think I need therapy on this point, because using the term to describe myself fills me with dread.
I feel much safer identifying as gay, queer or non-heterosexual. These words were never demonised, since they had evaded my heteronormative, non-native English speaking parents. Things have changed significantly at home, particularly with my dad. But old fears still lurk and threaten to ruin the party.
I suppose I need positive reinforcement. To find a queer therapist who can help me find the inner safety within, and help me tackle my fears head-on.
My ex-girlfriend (let's call her Z) had no such fear. She proudly made her lesbianism a focal point of many a conversation. I enjoyed it, even though I knew I wasn't prepared to 'come out' in this most basic of ways.
(At this point I can assure you that everyone I know knows about my attraction to women - my online identities on Facebook, Twitter and OKC carry this knowledge, and are one of the main ways I meet like-minded people. But...)
I'm afraid to flirt with cute women when I meet them around Sydney and I don't know that they're clearly attracted to women. I've experienced enough prejudice over flirting with the same sex to feel incredibly possessive about the wonderful thing that is being lesbian-esque.
I have other issues with flirting as well, but I'm not going to get into them here.
I suppose I'm self-counseling because I've known for some time that this issue must be dealt with at some point, and I've been putting it off. I still feel young, and maybe I'm even hoping that I'll meet a monogamous guy who will deliver me from having to deal with all this disturbing stuff (that society has made disturbing - homosexual attraction is in itself just another thing we do).
And yes, I realise that I've verbalised some problematic narratives, because I've chosen a poly lifestyle which, on better days, I am quite committed to having women be part of (to name just one example). I worry that it's weakness to admit to all these insecurities, but I wouldn't be writing this if I didn't know that exploring vulnerability is also strength.
I have hope for my ability to adapt to a world which may not be changing fast enough for my liking, but is still capable of providing me with nurturance and love, especially if I'm proactive in seeking it out. And even if I'm single for the rest of my life, that won't be such a bad thing, because I'll be working on loving me, the single most meaningful and important relationship I'll have. 

In search of solace (poetry)

Where will I go? 

In this bluster of a solution

I'm aching for the urge to cower

Back down from my mission statements

Go forth without a decree

Permit myself to breathe

It's going to be fine

We're going to go far

Whether we're on 

This continent or that

I've got people powering my journey

*

Searching for a site to interrogate

Searching for the recognition

That could make it all worth it

Searching, trying to accept the tragedy

Only so much remedy

To go around

Accept dissatisfaction

As a near-constant state

I cannot be stateless

There will be a rule of law

Interesting how I fear disintegration

My own personal slavery

Where I am the owner of my own captivity

Traumatised by glocal misogyny

I sought relief from the harshness

I sought perspective and space to build my dreams

I still seek this so-called indulgence

But less frequently share said dreams

Pulling back (poetry)

I've softened

Looking for the keys

To the room of contemplation

The special space for igniting enquiry

It's to be waded into at all cost

And enjoyed

I've missed the kaleidoscopic clutter

Swirling about my soul

The way I mould it into the finest figure

Dramatic news must be embraced

As earthly as the world's rotation

Balance is an ever-shifting concept

Can't always be

The personification of calm

There are windows to erase

When pre-arranged vistas won't fit

The compulsion to explore

It's time to explode old frameworks

You'll find me pulling back

It's not a role I cherish

In recent times it's been restricting

But I've found a way 

In which pulling back works

In the way I alienate the hysteria

Find me impulsive in new and welcome ways

I'll chase the fireworks until they make good haste

Again restore equanimity to my days

Shifting identities

When I'm around women, I tend to be more assertive than I am with men. I am more likely to make a bold point, demonstrate leadership skills, and generally be more in touch with and exercise my sense of agency. Around men, it is a struggle to perform just a fraction of the same self-assuredness, because they operate on the assumption that they will be taking the lead.
This is one reason why I prefer talking with women.
I believe a same-sex high school education has led me to appreciate the company of women from an early stage. I learnt that there are greater possibilities for personality development if I'm in the company of other females, free from the pressure to reproduce the structural inequalities deeply entrenched in our society. We are still to be found working within limitations of what is socially acceptable, but there is less of a male presence to worry about appeasing. When the guys have left the room, we are left on equal footing. And I like being in the company of equals. I value it a lot.
In a very practical sense, I am gay. I identify as bisexual officially, however it's mostly in theory that men remain viable alternatives. To be woman-focused is to prioritise my own self-development, to fiercely guard my ability to actualise parts of my personalities scathingly regarded amongst mainstream masculinities.
To live in 2017 Australia is a kind of social hell, which only medication and the company of feminists helps me survive. This is why I make very clear on my (OKCupid) dating profile that I'm only interested in dating feminists. And even amongst feminists, there is a lot of appeasing the patriarchy going on. I am looking for one in a million.
I'm not perfect either; a reading of Bad Feminist, or Roxane Gay's statements on how impossible it is to be a perfect feminist, will enlighten as to how we hold feminists to an almost impossible standard, which I'm sure contributes to a lot of insecurity amongst those who internalise the need to be immaculate in their personification of the role.
What kind of feminist am I? I'm doing my best. I'm soothing myself as needed. I'm being as genderqueer as I'll allow myself to be. Sometimes I cower. Sometimes I'm proud of my bravery. It's quite gray and messy, often ingenious and sometimes daft. This is not definitive. Nothing I write about anything is intended to be definitive. I reinvent postmodern feminism as I dare.

Out there

Been told my grasp on reality
Can't withstand scrutiny
But have you looked within today?
To busy judging, judging
Not trying to understand

I've been sitting by the mirror
Recognising within myself
Respectable qualities
Gathering them up

Have I looked within today?
Can I bear the sun today?
I've a date with dismay
And it simply won't end

Look within
The yellow curtains
Tremble at my touch
An apt presence, metaphorical
Shaky, shaky, but so strong
Delicate but powerful
And I've known it all along

Something new every day

I had an interesting exchange some weeks ago. The acquaintance had been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, and mentioned that his 'fluid memory' was pretty bad. It was one of the reasons he wasn't studying mathematics at university. Immediately this deterioration of memory thing struck a chord. My mind isn't the same when it comes to holding multiple concepts in my head in one go, and informed by complex states of most recent histories. I often wake up feeling like my mind is blank, and the meaning that I was making the day before doesn't linger in the way it used to do.

Obviously the drugs I have been forced to take are changing the way I function, and there's nothing I can do about it. I asked my Twitter followers and Facebook friends if anyone knew anything about applying for asylum in the nations that practiced Open Dialogue - Finland and Norway. Not much feedback eventuated, but my Finnish Facebook friend pointed out that in most of Finland mental health users were handled in the same way they are in Australia. I feel like the world is punishing me for trying to change it in accordance with my values.

Apathy? Is that what I feel? Underneath the drug haze I really do care, but the drug haze is powerful. Somewhere in there is such hurt, such anger, such fear, that I don't know what to do with myself. I cannot function in this society in any meaningful way, except to keep my distance. For the last five or so years I've made an effort to sleep during the night and be awake during the day. But for what? Engaging with this society is killing me. In the comforts of my bedroom late at night, I can create a space for less anxiety. I have time for myself. I am not butting heads with the Busy People of the World who couldn't care less about my wellbeing.

It's just a pain when something of interest or necessity is placed in time slots prior to 2pm.

My dad pops his head back into the living room, where I'm currently perched, but doesn't stick around.

With the birth of Japanese on Duolingo, I have been indulging in nostalgia with tinges of frustration in reviving my language skills. I add the J study before or after espanol, and find I still have time to do everything I want to do... now if only I could revive my French without having it f up my Spanish.

Because I still see the point in learning something new everyday. It gives me some of that meaning that I'm finding so elusive. It means I can travel to places like Chile this October and not be totally illiterate.