‘Shake it off’ quote the Swift.
‘Guilty feet have got no rhythm’ sayeth the Michaels (RIP.)
People underestimate the sagacity of pop music and I have recently been struck by another example. ‘I’m addicted to you, even though that you’re toxic.’
Now in my case the toxicity relates not to a person, but a thing – my home. I rarely had school friends around to my house. It wasn’t due to embarrassment or anything so mundane, my home was perfectly middle class; it was a ‘shoes off at the door’ type of arrangement, and in retrospect it was more of a sterile show house than a home. But even that wasn’t the reason that my mates didn’t come around. It’s only decades later that I have realised it was the tension. There was always a simmering undercurrent from my parents and life was like living near a dormant volcano. Even when the lava wasn’t gushing there was anxiety and dread. In some ways when the volcano blew it was a relief – it cleared the air for a while. But most of my formative years were spent on tiptoes.
But this toxicity was my normal. Is it any wonder that my future homes were also toxic? When I lived on my own I was a happy camper – I am fine in my own company. But whenever I lived with an intimate partner, things started to get problematic. Like a terraforming colonist on Mars changing the atmosphere to support life, I inadvertently created the toxic environment that I was familiar with. I guess I just don’t like sharing my space and whether it was wilful or as a result of old anxieties bubbling up again I would create conflict to produce tension. I was a passive-aggressive asshole, managing to convince myself that I was being the reasonable one. Then just like my parents, my partner and I would become the volcano rolling through explosive eruptions and periods of dormancy. Like my own childhood, on the outside we would appear respectable and normal masking the fact that anything was wrong. The worst thing is that I would whine and moan that all I wanted was a calm and easy home life – I was genuinely convinced that I wasn’t the problem!
On the other hand, I enjoyed healthy and loving intimate relationships where I didn’t live with my partner; where we had our own space and spent nights together and apart. So I have come to accept the fact that I am just not built to fulltime co-habit with intimate partners and that’s OK. Even though I am now aware of a pattern of behaviour I can never be 100% confident that I will never fall back into that pattern and resort to type.
Not that an intimate relationship is of any real interest to me. During a progress review, my Offender Supervisor asked me what my thoughts on future relationships were. I thought for a second before I responded. I suggested a scenario where I met somebody that I liked, and I thought that she liked me, until the point when she asked me one particular question.
“How did your last relationship end?” When I answer that I would expect that she would run a mile – and rightly so. In fact, if she didn’t, I would have to question her wanting to get to know me further, perhaps I should be the one to run in that case?
One of my licence conditions (for the rest of my natural life) will be a requirement to be open and honest with my probation officer (one of whom is probably studying for their GCSE’s right about now – life means life).
If I did start a relationship, not only would I have to declare it to my partner, but probation would also want to speak to them. So, at what point does it become necessary to declare my crime – beyond that, what is the right / polite / respectful time to bare all? It’s all too much of mine field to even contemplate right now. As things stand, for more than a decade I have been happily self-partnered and I don’t foresee a reason that either of me would want to change that.
