At the beginning of the relationship everything seems wonderful, even more so, a partner out of a picture book, the fulfilment of all desires. After a while, the first tendencies to flee become apparent, when there are any confrontations, even if they are far from serious or severe. I recognise the signs, but I ignore them, the dream that this relationship could really be something special is too tempting. Besides, after the last big disaster, the affection and attention just feels good. It invites you to lick your wounds and rebuild your shattered self-esteem.
Six years later, I'm sitting here writing this... pregnant and rather disillusioned, perhaps even rather pessimistic and cynical about heteronormative relationships between women and men. The only thing I know for sure is that this is not how I imagined what would probably be my last pregnancy. I shake my head and wonder how I could ever put myself in that position again. The relationship, although the word alone does not describe the situation very well, consists only of ... living on the same property, even sleeping in the same house at night, although for a long time in separate rooms and beds. Joint ventures - non-existent, conversations - non-existent, shared anticipation of the baby - non-existent, emotional warmth, care, attention, interest... ha, where are you thinking? Here I am, pregnant with a "partner" and yet completely alone.
Recently I gave up, gave up trying to keep the relationship alive, trying to save it somehow. Lately I feel like I've been doing nothing but trying to resuscitate something lifeless for at least three years, and it's maddeningly exhausting. Now that I've stopped resuscitating, I can watch the last bit of connection die, inexorably, and I'm immensely sad about it, but I guess that's part of the grieving process when something dies.
At the same time, I try to look at the whole predicament from a wider perspective, probably to make sense of it, or at least to find a good explanation. So many women have told me about their emotionally inaccessible partners, and even when they are more accessible, it is the women who do most of the emotional work in the relationship. I think about patriarchy and the emotional cripples it produces, and that at least gets me out of my sadness a bit, because it makes me angry. Then I think about solutions again and go round in circles... Give up a heteronormative relationship altogether? Not live together? Rather have a relationship with a woman? Or rather live with a friend or in a commune? How do I explain all this to my children, what advice do I give them for life, and how do I save my daughters from the same fate? Can the relationship-averse and the indifferent still be saved? Will they ever be able to feel themselves again, to feel others, to form a real bond?
It is late as I write this. I have no answers, only many questions and a growing sense of perplexity. I try to feel better by reminding myself several times a day that things could be much worse; I exhort myself to be grateful for what I have been spared, but why the hell does that not seem to be enough?
Woman (40), mother of three
