Interesting quote, that picks up some of the themes of this blog

The modern fairy tale ending is the reverse of the traditional one: A woman does not wait for Prince Charming to bring her happiness; she lives happily ever after only by refusing to wait for him -- or by actually rejecting him. It is those who persist in hoping for a Prince Charming who are setting themselves up for disillusionment and unhappiness. (Susan Faludi, Writer)

Another rambly relationships post

I found this online today, http://www.blackheartsparty.com/

It is gorgeously over the whole lurve thing. Where else can you get your greedy little paws on cards featuring road kill, and the inner message,"thinking of you" or the 'sorry we're breaking up' cards with a cutie love teddy with an axe through its head? Where else can you acquire t-shirts proclaiming "needy and clingy" and "will fuck for attention"? These fashion statements are (almost) guaranteed not to put you at risk of falling into a relationship. If these don't work, consider customising your own tee, with the big headline 'Bunny Boiler'. That ought to do it. I am feeling cynical enough that I've decided that next time I break up with someone, I'll use the fake your own death and skip the State method. Much less likely to result in hostility than if I actually engage in discussion.

On other lurve related matters, a whore friend of mine gave me The Rules (I and II) stating that my thoughts exactly fitted with these writers' on the lurve thing. I was utterly freaked out that this may have been the case, so carefully read both of them, let them sit for a while, then read them over again, taking notes this time, in order to give them a chance, so that my prejudice against 'how to catch yourself a husband' material didn't get in the way. The Rules II, I was happy to see, included a section on same sex relationships. So here is my thoughts on The Rules - for str8 girls, who are looking for a quite traditional marriage, with a quite traditional str8 man, following the Rules, will, in my opinion, almost guarantee it.

The Rules are based on desperately hiding how 'needy and clingy' you are, in order to not scare him away, and never letting him be too sure that he is 'the one'. Pretty damn fail-safe, really. Hide the needy lurve-obsessed psycho aspects that seem to be part and parcel of the female conditioning thing, and he will fall for the new improved version of you. However, there is lots of stuff in The Rules that I don't mind so much, such as keep yourself really busy doing other things, so you don't get relationship obsessed. And based on the idea that you can get the practice right, and then the attitude will follow (or fake it until you make it), act as much as possible as if you were a whole person, with or without a relationship. So, yes, there are aspects of The Rules that fit in with how I see things, however, there is so much about the whole thing that makes me a little ill. The fact that it originally came out about the same time as the 'surrendered wives' movement (the 1990s) has probably affected my view here, also the idea that you should never ask the guy out, pay for anything in the early stages, etc freaks me out.

Obviously, there are quite a few femmes in this town that would agree with those ways of functioning in a relationship, however, while some part of me loves the idea of being a creature unlike any other, some part of me thinks that it should be enough for women to be merely human. That the same notions of chivalry that put us on pedestals also lock us into oppressive, inflexible social roles.

On non-lurve topics, my voice has gone from, according to others, delightfully husky, at the Call Girls Launch on Wednesday night, to non-existent by Thursday morning. In between trying to sleep it off (my remedy for all things), I have be wondering around, loudly whispering, to housemates - which of course means everyone else starts whispering back. It is all very odd, as aside from my voice being gone, I feel fabulous. I'm off to Hellfire tonight, to be very silent and mysterious, however I really need to see MooZoo doing Bovinity. Sadly, I've consumed about 12 large garlic cloves over the last 24 hours to ward of illness, so being bitten by Vampires tonight is unlikely.

I finally got it

It kicked in about a month ago. I had spent the last year and a bit single - except for mostly easy going dating - in order to break out of old yucky patterns. The biggest part of the year was spent examining my own unhealthy, unhelpful relationship beliefs, that kept me in places I didn't want to be. I felt like I had to keep going further and further with this stuff, until I could trust myself to function in a relationship. Then it happened unexpectedly. I was walking down the street, mulling over random relationship issues, when I started thinking, "I am so bored with relationships. Thinking about them, being in them, talking about them. Bored, bored, bored."

It felt like a revelation. I might just be over all of this. Because if I can feel nothing but annoyance and boredom at the thought of significant others, then I might have just overwritten my girlie programming, which is supposed to push relationships and lurve as the answer - when stress, loneliness, dissatisfaction or simply a lack of plans for the immediate or long term future is bothering me. In many ways my female training has been very traditional, with my mother training me in cooking, cleaning and running a household budget (okay, so at least the cooking aspect sunk in), however job skills outside of wife and mothering just wasn't transferred. So no wonder the relationship as saviour was part of my thinking for so long.

Right now, all that relationships mean to me is more pressure from external sources, more expectations on me to focus on anything aside from my own life. Over the last decade, I think that my significant (and significantly awful) relationships have been the biggest threat to mental health, stability, self esteem and pursuing my own goals. I don't want my epitaph to read: She was a great wife. I want it to read: She was good at self care, was self sufficient, and balanced putting out energy into her friendships, community and world with putting it into herself and nurtured a whole life, without draining herself of all her life's juices, just because others asked her to, demanded it of her, or manipulated the situation.

It's not even that most of my ex's have been purposely horrible, just needing more parenting, care and support than is reasonable to expect a partner to provide, or struggling through huge issues of their own, which probably means that they need to be anywhere but in a relationship. And when I have voiced my own needs, they have gone unheard. At that point, in hindsight, I should have walked away, rather than endeavouring not to have needs so I can better support my partner around transition, or get my alcoholic partner out of the bar before she starts a fight, then take her home and put her to bed. Too much hard stuff to deal with, particularly when you are in your twenties. Too much responsibility, too much work on other people's issues.

I might have more room for the whole lurve thing at some point, however, right now, I'm thinking of self-nurturing as feminism 101. Take care of yourself, before you take care of partners, or indeed, the world. My therapist reminds me that some of my self-denial history as it emerges in relationships is also often a huge part of activism. And as my body is telling me in explicit and loud ways right now, I need peace and rest and wellness.

I can't even feel proud to have finally gotten to the end of this long journey of discovery, where I am not just saying this stuff from intellectual knowledge, but actually feeling it deep in my bones. I can't even feel excited about it - it just comes as a huge sense of relief. Like this particular piece of screwed up programming is dealt with. Now to work on all the other bits of screwed up programming.

I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours

I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey

Hidden in the bottom drawer

I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine

Lend me some fresh air

I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you

I don't want to be your babysitter

You're a very big boy now

I don't want to be your mother

I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months

Show me the back door
- Alanis Morissette ‘Not the Doctor’

I’ve finally succumbed to blogging song lyrics. It had to happen – and Alanis, too! I must confess a fondness for her self-help lyrical journeys and passion for squeezing big words and concepts uncomfortably into the song lyric formula. All I can say is that I hope always to remember that I never want to be a care-taker ever, ever again (unless I do actually push out a baby).

Here are two other things I never want to forget again:
The subtle joys of listening to the small internal voice of sanity.
That big, dramatic production number that is chaotic girlie emotions is such an overwhelming thing to deal with. It’s so easy to let that take over. The small voice of sanity speaks the whole time, and you hear what it’s saying, but it gets drowned out but these loud, messy emotions. You know the voice is only speaking truth, and healthiness, and dignity. But the emotions promise Wagnerian spectacles – and somehow at the time that’s more compelling.
At a certain point, necessity meant paying closer attention to the voice of reason. And I actually did what it said to. And I felt better. And slowly, it got louder, and started to drown out the dramatics. And my life got less tempestuous, and I felt a lot better for it. Does this mean I’m finally growing up?

That good people who like you for who (and what) you are, care about your wellbeing and treat you well are the only people worth sharing time with.
No matter how seductive, exciting, delicious and breathtaking (sometimes that’s fear and not swoony chemistry) someone is, if they don’t act like they give a shit about what is actually good and healthy for you, run like the wind.

Requests and Resolutions

I don't really do New Years resolutions - I ask the Goddess for things I need - then instead of getting them, I am presented with challenges in those area that ultimately force me to develp greater skills and strength to tackle the identified challenges. I've always attributed an impish sense of humour to the deities, so in place of wish fulfillment, I get 'choose your area of difficulty to focus on this year'. I'm actually glad I don't get the rub the genie bottle and get three wishes. There is much more satisfaction in the opportunites for self development.

About 4 years ago I attended a Winter Solstice (Yule) event in Adelaide. Yule marks the end of the old year and onset of the new for Pagans (although we celebrate it in the middle of the calendar year in the Southern hemesphere). We wrote down wishes for the new year on paper, rolled them up and inserted them into holes pre-drilled into the Yule log, which was then put into the fire. I asked for the most relevent thing for my life at the time: an end to my clinical depression. Instead of that occuring without any work from me, pretty soon after that time I embarked on the fateful relationship; the ending of this sparked my recovery (I've posted about this ad nauseum in this blog to date).

At the beginning of 2006 I asked for two things. The first was no more needy people who were unable to demonstrate respect and support for me. So at times I had various hot prospects entering my life who were delightful and attractive, but so messy and unreliable that I had to regretfully put the breaks on. The second thing I asked for was greater assertiveness. So I was presented with a two nasty situations involving sexual harassment this year that I had to manage. Both times were so bizarre and creepy that they forced me to speak up and challenge the dynamic almost immediately.

What I really need to ask for this year is for better money management skills, and better organisational skills. The problem is that I could easily be asking for mounting debt and even more commitments as challenges for me to experiment on. So if I end the year having a nervous breakdown and facing bankrupcy, I'll only have myself to blame.

You've come a long way baby

I love contradictions. I truly enjoy life’s paradoxes. They keep my mind nimble and open doors to the wonders of the universe and the self. I’ve worked harder and had more responsibility over the last 6 months than ever before.

Since September, I’ve organised a training session involving people from around the country, then a national conference, then promoted and performed in a Debby Doesn’t Do It For Free show, as well as sex working and getting out and about, socialising and participating in community like never before.

In the past if I’d attempted half of this workload, I’d have had to pull out, probably had a nervous breakdown and retired to a darkened room for 6 months.

Right now I’m utterly exhausted, pretty damn broke as even though I’ve been sex working regularly, it’s been hard to focus and have the right energy to get much work, and have had a persistent flu for three weeks. The effects of Kenn’s passing are still quite present for me. Almost every day I’ll get a little teary without even knowing why at the time. The pressure build up from a huge workload has left me a wee bit wobbly and effected my decision making in some areas. I’ve gotten myself involved in weird random flirtations, when I don’t really have the time, energy or inclination for sex. I haven’t always been considerate of or communicated well with women around this stuff.

But this is where the paradox lies – I’m feeling both really drained, but also giddy with joy. I’m so fucking proud of myself for what I have achieved in this time. I’m so pleased that even with my wobbliness and occasional lack of strictly ethical treatment of flirtations and sexual partners; I’ve behaved more ethically towards myself than in recent history. I’ve maintained my single status – I’ve avoided getting involved in doomed relationships with women who are needy but unable to reciprocate my love and support. I’ve proven to myself I’m able to meet huge personal goals. I think this increased strength and independence – along with the ever-present femme nurturing energy (hello June Cleaver) has been part of my increased appeal. My busyness has meant through-the-roof stress levels, skipping meals, sleep deprivation and smoking like a steam train yet in some ways I’m taking better care of myself than ever. My self-valuing continues to skyrocket – so I’m nobody’s doormat.

Losing a friend, colleague and community member has left and aching sadness, coming closely after another personal disappointment – yet I also feel outrageously happy – with myself and my life. Broke, in debt and unable to indulge my shoe habit, yet so very wealthy with my years harvest.

I guess that I’ve always know that life is really hard stuff, and that most of the really worthwhile things are really hard fought for. My self awareness and mental health have been things I’ve pursued with utter single-mindedness and discipline. It really has been like stripping skin away from bones, then regrowing new layers to get here. If I was less prepared for ruthless honesty, really taking a harsh look at bad patterns and sitting with my own shame at some of my behaviour, I never would have come through to this place.

I’ve been accused of thinking too much, pursuing complexity for the sake of it, of being too much of a busy brained analytical nerd. But let me state categorically that the self awareness and resulting psychological/ behavioural shifts have been worth it. Of course, the alternative could be continuing to beat my head against the same brick wall, and then turning around to blame the wall.

I’m feeling like I’m entering the next phase of my life and I’m tingling with excitement at the prospect of brand new adventures. I can guarantee that there will be new battles and stresses and hangovers from old challenges. But there is also so much confidence in my skills and strength to tackle whatever comes my way.

Mess, Ghosts and Gurlesque

For someone who doesn't drink, I managed to get mighty messy last night. Red food colour stains on my new white Debby Doesn't Do It For Free pencil skirt (note to self: do not sit near stage when wearing white). Glittering pink and luscious red lipstick smears from hello kisses with fabby femmes. Gorgeous white fluffy boudoir slippers with stiletto heels now somewhat the worse for wear after someone dropped a glass of beer near pool table. I'm thinking of only wearing PVC from now on: if the worst happens, someone can turn a garden hose on me.

Worse than my sartorial woes was the feeling all through the night, wherever I turned, of being haunted by the ghosts of relationships past. Even more unsettling than my recent Adelaide adventures, all bar two of the women I've fucked or dated since moving to Sydney were out at the Impy - including the Evil Ex and the Crazy Ex. Clearly it's not necessary to have a near death experience to have your life flash before your eyes - a night out on the Sydney dyke scene ought to do it.

Those women I know who play and date within fairly restricted circles/ communities have my respect for their coping skills in navigating this crazy dance. I certainly wasn't managing well last night - but at the same time, couldn't escape as Disintigrated Debby was performing a piece in the last set of the night. My coping skills have been effected anyway this week, I've been working six days a week at my various jobs since Adelaide, and have had a flu thingie that seems to be going around - so mentally drained and not much immunity at the moment. It's the third time this month I've seen the Evil Ex - who just won't shrivel up and die, damn her. The cheshire cat (I've borrowed this metaphor from Zoo) is someone I've yet to build up immunity to. She still leaves me weak at the knees.

One by one they emerged and had their effect, not all of those I've bonked or dated had an unpleasant sensation attached - it's more the combination of all of them in the one space that was doing my head in. I was so distracted all night, I did little more than perfunctionarily greet several nice people, including a very nice woman I fucked during the last week. I feel ill-mannered and emotionally exhausted. After this Adelaide to Sydney ex-extravaganza - I've been forced to do some journeying into my past choices. Did I really spend five years in a relationship when we had no sexual contact after the first 18 months? Did I really fall madly in love with a woman who wasn't sober during sex for the first 3 months of our relationship, and was a mean and embarrasing drunk? Did I really allow myself to date several people who were ashamed of my dress sense, my sex work and my weirdness? Have I really been desparate enough to put everything into a relationship with a selfish creature who demanded more and more, til I drained myself of everything, only to have her dump me? Ouch!

Most of my risk-taking around my performance, activism, creativity and other choices have paid off. I've grown in strength and wisdom, and have become a more fully realised person. However, my partner choices at times have been truly awful.While my discernment over the last year has gotten better and better, I'm feeling like I should extend my current relationship ban to cover all partner sex for at least a while. I need to feel like my energy is put to best use right now, and my various work and Debbys commitments are overwhelming enough, without adding the sleep deprivation as well as mine and other people's at times unmanageable expectations to the mix. Any free time right now is best spent in self care, sleep and down time at home. At some stage I hope I'll be abe to reconcile some of my past choices - or maybe just know that I've really and truly moved to a healthier place, where I expect more from partners and demonstrate greater self respect in who I let in to my life, my bed, or toilet cubicle.

Disintigrated Debby was absoluely great. I'm so proud of her piece. I love her skill in making a relatively short piece about sex work, while also including other social justice issues. I have yet to achieve this feat in my Debby work. Still just raging away at sex negativity........

My learnings from the night:

• This is not new, but I love, love, love Gurlesque - Sex and Glita do fantastic pieces - witty, intellegent, political, and just silly - it's an amazing sex positive, woman positive forum for emerging performance art you just don't see other places.
• The Debbys are the most sucessful activism I've ever been involved with - creating spaces to celebrate whore culture and community, while inviting non-whores in to be tricked and treated into celebrating whores along with us.
• If you are dating asshole after asshole, there maybe something you need to examine within yourself - it can't all be coincidence.
• There are lots and lots of smart, sexy queer femmes in Sydney who have social consciences - I'm glad I'm getting to know a few of them.
• Never wear white in boozy crowded spaces.
  
  

At Last: a Jane Austen Reference

I started reading Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, just after the break up with the Evil Ex, while we continued to share a domicile for an excrutiating month before moving out from the house of hideous history. It may seem a little bizarre, but Jane Austen was of immeasurable comfort at a particularly nasty time.

All I had to preserve at that stage was whatever shreds of dignity I could imagine were still about me. I didn't want to collapse in front of the Evil Ex - it took me a few more encounters to truly understand the extent of the evil, so at that stage I was truly concerned about maintaining her respect for me (which wasn't at all evident in her behaviour) and not troubling her overly with guilt as a result of my grieving. Crappy reasons, as they were all about her and not at all about me. Eventually, however, my reasons for my dignity became more about my own self-respect and well being.

I needed to read heaps - even more than usual - at that time as I certainly wasn't sleeping well. So the classics it was. What emerged from Sense and Sensibility was a value system that said emotionally bleeding all over the shop and wallowing in self-pity would make you very ill, would set tongues wagging, ruin your reputation and your chances of catching yourself a husband; whereas maintaining self-composure, valuing other aspects of your life, such as friends and family and trying as much as possible to go about your daily activities was the path to contentment, inner peace and would create less regret in the long run.

I really connected with this stuff. Obviously, you have to put it all in the context of the era it was written. Unmarried women couldn't spend very much time with any man they weren't related to without causing comment, and couldn't express any interest in any man unless he had already proposed, without endangering their reputation. A lot of this seems like lunacy and is certainly wildly restrictive, and doesn't bode well for happy marriages, as it totally rests on male relatives being able to find out as much as they can about a guy's reputation and wealth, and basing the decision to marry on whether he has seemed to be respectable and has the means to support you. As Charlotte Lucas, from Pride and Prejudice thought, "Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honorable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantness preservative from want."

The idea of the lady has always revolted me. However much fun for dress ups and role play crinolines and corsetry are, the emotional equivalent - restricted range of movement, not having a voice, all helplessness and breathiness and no self-direction, no strength and no capacity for assertiveness - is just stifling and without the potential for erotisisation (for me anyway). However, the Austen-approved virtues of self control and not letting your stuff hang out in public makes a lot of sense to me. It may seem like a weird comment to post in a blog of all places, but the reality TV/ talk show culture of public confession is freaking me out just a little. I am increasingly disturbed by the celebration of messiness and careening out of control in public. I think women in particular lose respect and credibility by these displays.

By all means, I think life throws up extraordinarily painful episodes that really tax our ability to keep it all together. I think working through issues can take time and effort and sometimes going back over the same ground. the universe has a habit of repeating a lesson over and over until you finally get it. Crying on the shoulders of close and trusted friends is to be recommended, as is going into therapy, journaling and anything else that will get you through. I just don't think self-destructing in public is a great idea or doing it around the-one-that-broke-your-heart or others who clearly don't have your best interests at heart. I think doing all you can to examine where your own patterns have contributed is immensely dignified and rewarding. I also believe strongly in moving forward with your own day to day life and trusting that if you keep putting one foot in front of the other that it will get easier with time. Trying your absolute hardest to not continuously obsess about whatever is making you miserable - as impossible as it sounds - is worth persevering with. I have found saying affirmations such as, 'and this too will pass' and 'I am a strong, gorgeous, dynamic goddess who will live and breathe success and will continue making the world a better place by my awesome presence' while wearing particularly high stilettos and very red lipstick to be very helpful.

More tools for the toolkit - or in my case handbag

I've continued to have various conversations with queer women about relationship dramas; about why we do what we do - over-commit, under-value ourselves and set ourselves up as the president of our partner's fanclub - regardless of the fact that they may not be nearly fabulous enough to keep company with our amazing queer girl selves...I thought I'd share some more thoughts - some gained through therapy, some just through my own digging about.

1. If they tell you they can't do relationships right now, or that they aren't emotionally available - they mean it! They are giving you all the information right then and there! Thank them and LISTEN! If you are up for casual play with an uncertain expiry date, then by all means, have fun - but if not, or if you change your mind at a certain point, run like the wind in another direction. If someone has told you they aren't looking for a relationship right now, and you get involved and expect them to change their mind, you have no right to get angry if they don't. You can be disappointed, sad and wallow all you like, but it's not fair to get angry coz someone doesn't want the same things you do.

2. I've learn recently that I have put past partners on pedestals, looking through rose coloured glasses, and then, I put so much love and care into that person, supporting them in everything they do in the hopes of them putting me on a pedestal in their lives. How deeply manipulative are the arts of default femininity.We are trained to do this as women, of course, but really, isn't it creepy and passive-aggressive? Instead of admitting vulnerability and need, and just asking to be loved and nurtured in the way I want to be; becoming indispensable, being so much more unselfish and supportive than any previous partner in order to win love, adoration and gratitude from a partner, in order to addict them as much as I am addicted to the warm-and-fuzzy relationship rush..... Eeewwww.I kinda knew about this dynamic for a long time, but making a connection with how manipulative and unethical it is spurs on my efforts to unlearn this toxic sludge.Which harks back to my earlier words... love yourself as you would a partner. Work out what kind of supports and caring you get from relationships and start practicing them on yourself. Invest all that love energy on yourself and your own life. Buy your own damn flowers.... take yourself to dinner and a movie..... become president of your own fan club.... write lists of all your best qualities (see if you can come up with at least 100)....... masturbate every day at least twice....... congratulate yourself whenever you demonstrate self-valuing behaviour or assertiveness...... ask for what you want. It is only the under-resourced, the trapped and the needy that need to manipulate others. If you fill yourself full to the brim with self-value, and resource yourself by practicing assertiveness you won't need to manipulate. If you treat yourself well enough, you won't be so needy as to fall into an incompatible relationship and have to twist it around until it fits.

3. Ultimately, you have very little control over the actions of another person. You can't trick, force or convince someone to love you, to treat you better or to meet your needs. Save gifts, letters explaining your point of view and why change needs to happen, flattery, post-break up sex designed to erase all memory of the break up. Invest that energy instead into walking away with as much grace and dignity as possible (not for them, who cares what they think - but for you so you'll have less to cringe over later), and putting into self care.

4. Remember that romantic relationships are one aspect of your life.... being single is not a death sentence. There is so much else going on in your life, or should be. Relying on a partner to fill up an otherwise empty life is also a bit creepy, and applies way too much pressure on them.

A Fine Romance...

I've been single for a whole year now. And I intend to be single for a good period of time still. I have a pattern when a significant relationship ends... I crawl into a hole and die for a while... spend some time grieving.... spend a short period of time shagging madly.... then fall madly in love and build (my version of) a white picket fence all over again and start playing wifey. My version of wifey is a very queer version - negotiated non-monogamy, sex work and kink - but I'll still bake cookies.

I'm currently wanting to extend my madly shagging period for as long as is possible, in order to spend as much time unlearning ingrained relationship behaviours that I can. I've spoken to several friends about these issues, and (I don't know whether to be glad about this or not) it's not just me. No matter how queer we all are, how feminist, how into alternative relationship models - the Hallmark sentiments still resonate with many, many queer women.

Still over-looking obvious issues with a partner or prospective partner's character. Still valuing a partner or prospective partner's interests, goals and needs over our own. Still putting the 'relationship' in a central place in our lives, and putting more energy into it than our careers, hobbies or passions. Still changing or downplaying our uniqueness or things that are ordinarily of huge importance to us in order to not freak out a partner or prospective partner. Still feeling completely wrecked when relationships end.

How many women (regardless of their sexuality) put the same amount of passion and energy into their jobs as they do their relationships? If more of us did - we could well be running the world by now - rather than just shouldering the world (Atlas was a Titan in Greek mythology, who as a punishment held the world on his shoulders - I never really bought the idea that a male was really in that position - it's usually a woman holding up more than her fair share of the world). Queer women may have particular issues that cause us to over-devote to relationships. Mental health issues are rife within the queer community (an affect of stigma), and our partners may be particularly needy as a result. Some of us have genderqueer , transgender or intersex partners, who may need special support. Often isolation and stigma that we are experiencing may mean relationships and the intimacy experienced in them may be especially important to us.

And let's face it - regardless of who you are - how many healthy relationship models are you presented with? Popular culture is full of knight-on-a-white-horse riding in to save you from the mundane images. "I'm nothing without you"; "I'd die if you left me".

I'm really interested at the moment in the idea that you can focus on changing behaviour and the attitude shift will follow. So one of the things I'm finding helpful right now is paying attention to other areas of my life - my work, projects, friendships and spirituality. This means that I'm not allowing any room for romance to rear it's head, and if anyone appears who has enough amazing qualities to tempt me in that area, hopefully, I'll only have so much time to squeeze them in. Spending time living alone and pursuing my interests and goals has made me a happier, more fulfilled person with better self-esteem. I'm less needy because I know how to meet my own needs. I'm laughing more, I'm more playful and more relaxed than I ever was in those unsatisfying, unbalanced and controlling relationships. I'm so proud of myself for tackling depression head-on and making amazing in-roads - all because I could devote all my time, energy and motivation to my own wellness.

I guess what I'm saying is that a happy, busy person is less likely to put her whole self in to a relationship - particularly a unsatisfactory one. Someone who demonstrates tremendous self-care and self-valuing is less likely to lose her sense of self by being too much of a care-taker in an unequal relationship. And instead of rescuing our partners - how exciting would it be if we could rescue ourselves?