Someone desires me. Really and truly. This terrifies me, especially since he knows a great deal about me, yet still he desires me. I can’t help thinking, what kind of a nut would know these things about me, yet still desire me, and even more frighteningly, love me for exactly who am?
This hits at the core of my insecurities. It causes me to challenge the obviously erronious premise that because I live with mental illness, because I am a survivor of rape, because I have been in multiple dysfunctional relationships, that I am therefore doomed either to live alone or to suffer through cycle after cycle of similarly destructive relationships.
Now, it is clear that simply being desired is not the key to the kingdom. But. To be desired as the person I am, complete with all of the attributes that I consider blemishes, is something new, and terribly frightening. And. He seems to love those blemishes too, and in fact it seems that he does not consider them blemishes, but simply (simply?!) part of ME.
Copyright 2012 Laura P. Schulman all rights reserved