DBRT 014: I’m really good at pushing people away

Avoidance. I’ve had a similar pattern throughout my conscious years on this planet. I ask for connection, I pursue vulnerability and connection, and when it is returned by another person, I freeze. I avoid it. I do whatever I can to prolong the time between receiving and acknowledging their interest in me.

I remember doing this with the boy that I liked in middle school. I remember doing this with a friend in college. And I remember doing this early on in my relationship with my Master. By that time I knew that this was a pattern for me; to pursue connection and vulnerability and then panic when it showed up at my door. I think this stemmed from some sort of fear of rejection. I knew that I wanted to connect with other people, I knew that I wanted to connect with something bigger than myself. But when I was faced with the reality of being known, the intense scrutiny of being loved and seen, it was too much to bear.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve completely beaten it. If I’ve conquered this unfortunate flaw in my ability to connect with the people. And then I’m reminded that progress is not linear. That growth is ongoing, that setbacks are to be expected, and that I will always be fighting to become a better version of myself in all of the ways that I have always struggled.

Recently I’ve received some really sweet feedback from people I’ve met in the past. People who I’ve met in the context of rope, the context of kink, and elsewhere. I’m very fortunate to be able to share a lot of myself with people and have them receive me well. And yet, when they want to move deeper to connect with me more or tie with me, even though I want it, even though I asked for it, I still freeze. I freeze because I’m afraid it won’t be perfect. I freeze because I’m afraid I won’t measure up. I freeze because I’m afraid of doing or saying something wrong or it not being what I want and having to back out or say no. But I don’t know enough yet to know if that will be the case. And if I never try, I’ll nunca know. This is not at all dissimilar to my years-long process of getting to the point of being able to share these thoughts with you.

I frequently find myself agonizing over perfection. Wanting to achieve something that is some sort of perfect that I can’t even meaningfully define. And that’s where the problem lies. The perfection that I want, the perfection that I’m afraid of not achieving, it doesn’t exist. Perfection doesn’t exist. And yet I’ve spent so much of my life being afraid of trying things, afraid of doing things because I’m afraid of not achieving perfection.

And the funny thing is, I don’t really pursue perfection. I allow the fear of not achieving it to paralyze me. I’m not pursuing anything, I’m just standing still. I don’t even como perfection that much.

I’m drawn to things that are flawed, I’m drawn to things that feel real. I’m drawn to things that feel human. Those are the moments, the performances, the paintings, the photos, that stick in my mind for years. That I come back to when I’m lying awake at night.

…Why am I so afraid of failing to achieve something that I don’t even value!?

I think back to why I retreated; why I pulled away from people. Maybe I felt too known, too vulnerable. Maybe they reminded me of a version of myself I used to be. A time I regret. Mistakes I made. People I shouldn’t have trusted. I cower inside myself in shame, paralyzed with fear. It’s irrational perhaps, but deeply set.

Like the little rabbits in my garden, I freeze. If I don’t move, they won’t see me. If they can’t see me, they can’t hurt me. If I’m alone, then I’ll be safe.

But I’m not.

Over the past few days I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster. Ping ponging between outright panic and stony numbness. Why does any of this matter when there are so many huge problems? Everything I care about, the work I’m trying to do, all of it seems so trivial compared to the erosion of democracy and the threat of a nuclear war.

I saw a video on Instagram today by a creator who is feeling a lot of the same things I am. My words feel kind of half baked right now, so I’ll share what they said instead:

“What’s the point in caring about the little things when everything’s falling apart? Why bother being out here picking up litter and trying to help nature when the idiotic behavior of a few infantile rich men could bring about the end of everything we know and love? What’s the point? Are we wasting our time? Are we as well just giving up and throwing in the towel? Just a day spent watching the news and you’d be forgiven for thinking so. It’s just so easy to feel completely useless. But to me that’s the point.

We could allow the darkness to swallow us whole, for all the evil in the world to take the wind out our sails. But then we’d be just like them. We’d be jaded and angry and a negative influence on everything and everyone around us. And yes it’s hard, but that’s where we need to stand up and carry on. Where we need the voices of love, compassion and fairness to be the loudest they’ve ever been. I’m not saying to ignore this all and pretend it isn’t happening. I’m saying to double down and be good despite it all. It’s times like these that the world needs more good. More positivity, more community. What the world needs right now is more light.”

Link to the original post By Josh Donaldson via @earthdr0p en IG

I’m trying to figure out what that means for me right now. What does it mean to continue to be light in this dark world? I’m not sure, and the weight of … everything … feels suffocating sometimes. Like my brain is surrounded by a foggy mist. But I’ll keep going even if it feels like shit. Even if the things I make don’t feel good enough. Even if my ties look shoddy and messy. I’ll keep going, keep trying to make those connections, because I still think it is important. I still believe that all of us deserve to feel loved and fulfilled and connected to each other. I still believe that intimacy is worth practicing and learning. And I still believe that rope has a valuable place in my life, just as it does in so many others.

Cutting room floor:

• Having finally bitten the bullet in deciding to share my thoughts, insecurities and uncertainties surrounding rope, myself, my life, and everything else.
• When the world comes crashing down, you start to reevaluate the things in your life. If I had to start over, or run out of that door in the middle of the night, what would I take with me? If I had to leave my home and start over, what would I look for first?

This writing is part of a series called “Diary of a Baby Rope Top” by Kajira Blue, the rest of which can be found at TheDuchy.com/blogs.