So I was once again sitting at night in a hot tub in the Hollywood Hills (I’m addicted to those…well both hot tubs and the Hollywood Hills) and I had this epiphany. I’m sure I have mentioned it before, but it once again hit me today as I was uhm, swirling around the office. I don’t do this on a daily basis, but I was working late and I was listening to the radio so I took a swirl around. There happens to be a very convenient pole situated close to the packing table where I was wrapping up some artwork, so what the heck, I pirouetted around… and it hit me that if you really know me, you’ve probably seen me dance, because I love to dance (I have contemplated doing a musical in the office several times. I mean like getting up on the chairs and tables singing Nine To Five in falsetto whilst doing some neat dancing to that, but always voted against it to spare my co-workers. Had it been my office…there’d been a musical every other day).
Sadly, last time I can remember dancing with someone I liked, was around the same time as this hot tub experience…and that was a disaster. I was trying to rescue him from himself, by chaining him in my grasp, but not even that solved the monkey-at-a-disco style problem. However, dancing with a man you love, in a loving (not monkey style) way…could it get any better? Truly experiencing someone’s body whilst finding a rhythm together? It takes a lot of letting go, a lot of trust and a lot of co-operation to be able to do that, but it’s so divine when it works. Dancing with men you don’t love, who aren’t true dancers, on the other hand can prove disasterous if they belong to the tits and ass grabbing population – they aren’t in it to really experience you, they are in it to get off on you. Having said that I’m taking up both swing and tango this year so the men better fucking behave in those classes!
So where was I? In a hot tub in LA, that’s right. Yeah, so at the time I happened to be dating this nutcase whom the hot tub belonged to. No, really, he was a nutcase. A very attractive nutcase. He had what I can only call fire and I have been known to fall for…heat (it sure as hell wasn’t the monkey style dancing techniques). Point being: our dating wasn’t going too well and I was all concerned about what this nutcase thought of me. I wanted to be all that, because I hadn’t yet figured out that he wasn’t all that. So I felt shy and nervous and inferior (he was like superior because I was sucking up to him to make him like me..not that he really was superior and I really was inferior, it’s just that in my mind that’s how it was, because that’s the position I put myself in)…and then it hit me: What if life wasn’t about me? Ahhh, self obsessed drama queen having an epiphany?!?!! (Have I said people liken me to gay guys? Apparently I have their physical mannerism. When I’m in a good mood I’m a bit…theatrical. “Oh, darrrrling” and featherboas….purrrrfect!)
So yeah…as I was all anxious about how this man would perceive me and therefore startled, I wasn’t quite myself so to speak. I can’t say he brought out the best in me – I felt more like I was being scrutinized than having a leisurely time, but as is my habit: I wanted to be perfect and this want made me so nervous I was frozen instead of passionate. I’m sure we’ve all experienced those moments. My childhood and some of my teens were pretty much just that. I know it very well. And the point…(finally)…the point is that if I lived to give, instead of wanting a specific return on investment, I wouldn’t have this issue. If it was all about giving as much as I could and experiencing other people I wouldn’t have fear, because there would be nothing to fear. Life wouldn’t be about their opinions of me, because I would only focus on giving of myself and experiencing them.
Being self obsessed isn’t a healthy obsession. Neither is worrying, which is basically the same: you worry about whether life will give you something in return for your investment. Drama queen, over achiever, I need to be perfect, I want it all straight away, or I’m gonna cry ‘cuz I dislike doing something I don’t enjoy and feel like a total waste Maria, has a few things to learn. “Relax, nothing is under control.” as the Booja-Booja quote on my wall says. Drop the ego, enjoy the moment.
I came to the conclusion, in the end, that the problem with the hot tub man was his ego. I came to the same conclusion about myself. Interesting how that works. The fun thing with life is to experience it, not worry about it, or feel that you need to control it. As mentioned in my vlog, Straight from the heart… (the other hot tub epiphany) I was all about achievement and never felt good about myself, because I never felt like I achieved what I wanted to achieve on every level. I could always do better. This resulted in that I felt (and still feel sometimes) no one could like me, because I wasn’t perfect. I was constantly ashamed of myself. And so when dating someone I actually liked I couldn’t just pull a face and play the game: I was reduced to a nervous heap of anxiety, trying to please them; be what they liked (which on the outside just came across as a tad cold and stiff). I never experienced them, I never gave of myself to them, I was too busy being petrified by my own fear of not being perfect. I was frozen. And then I was furious because I didn’t want to be like that – I wanted to live. Freely.
Mmmm….so if you haven’t truly danced with me, so as to feel what I feel like, without obsessing about what I would think about your dancing, or obsessing about getting me in bed…but truly given of yourself to the dance, the experience…have you truly ever known me? That is the question Sherlock.
Ah yes, palm trees, beach, poledancing…only missing a hot tub to be paradise!!!
