Dear Sugar, Sugah, Sage,
I’m a spry 47-year-old feisty broad. For the past three years I’ve been deeply in love with a woman. The timing of our meeting was atrocious. Her father was dying, she was recently downsized, and we were both nurturing recent heartbreaks. But once she quoted John Donne over my naughty bits after making love, I was done for. She pushed me away over and over again, and then started inviting me more frequently into her heart.
We’ve struggled ever since. Her sex drive has vanished (we’ve done it all—doctors, therapists, reading). She cannot fully commit, and she is consumed by fear (she’s a love avoider classic).
With her I find the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. We’ve broken up and reunited more times than I can count and we are currently on an absolute restriction from each other for thirty days, which we’ve never managed. We are deeply KNOWN by each other in a spiritual, sacred way I’ve never been known before. Addictive, yes. Hence the break.
I should say she loves me deeply and, in some ways, when I demanded the full break, she took it harder than me.
I believe, as a Midwestern lesbian, that I will never find this again and thus, I stay and tolerate her “rules,” her angst, her sexual anorexia despite being a lusty broad. Yes, I’ve tried taking lovers. It simply does not work for me. Though our lovemaking is rare (4-5 times per year), when we’ve made love it has been transcendent.
I’m a quirky unusual complex woman and it is hard to find a match. What the hell? What do YOU think?
Much love either way.
Signed,
Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?
Dear Should I Stay or Should I Go Now,
What the hell, indeed. It sounds pretty crazy to me. Breaking up and getting back together more times than you can count? Sexual anorexia and “rules”? Your use of the word addiction? All those things unsettle me. But you know what unsettles me the most? This business about your lover being the only one who has “KNOWN” you in a “spiritual, sacred way,” coupled with your conviction that you will “never find this again and thus” you stay.
Find what, pray tell? A sexually and emotionally withholding lover who is terrified of commitment and intimacy? If you and I were sitting at your kitchen table composing your ad for lustybroadslookingforlove.com is this what you’d ask for?
You would not. I encourage you to contemplate why you’re accepting that now, sweet pea. This relationship isn’t meeting your needs; it’s pushing your buttons. Namely, the big button that says, I’m a 47 year-old Midwestern lesbian, so I’d better take what I can get. You write about your lover’s fear, but it’s your own fear that’s messing with your head. I know it’s hard to be alone, darling. Your anxieties about finding another partner are understandable, but they can’t be the reason to stay. Desperation is unsustainable. It might have gotten you through until now, but you’re too old and awesome to fake it anymore.
This doesn’t necessarily mean you and your lover are doomed. Good couples sometimes get off to an appalling start. Perhaps the two of you will make it through, but you won’t if you continue as you are. I know your connection feels powerful and rare and incendiary. I know it seems like this woman is your own personal intimacy messiah. But you’re wrong. True intimacy isn’t a cluster fuck or a psychodrama. It isn’t the “highest highs and lowest lows.” It isn’t John Donne whispered into your crotch followed by months of not-exactly-agreed-upon celibacy. It’s a tiny bit of those things on occasion with a whole lot of everything else in between. It’s communion and mellow compatibility. It’s friendship and mutual respect. It’s not having to say we must have an “absolute restriction on each other” for thirty days.
That isn’t love, Lusty Broad. It’s a restraining order. You don’t have intimacy with this woman. You have intensity and scarcity. You have emotional turmoil and an overwrought sense of what the two of you together means.
I believe you know that. I could put most of the letters I receive into two piles: those from people who are afraid to do what they know in their hearts they need to do and those from people who have genuinely lost their way. I’d put your letter in the former pile. I think you wrote to me because you realize you need to make a change, but you’re scared of what that change will mean. I sympathize. Neither of us can know how long it will be before you find love again. But we do know that so long as you stay in a relationship that isn’t meeting your needs, you’re in a relationship that isn’t meeting your needs. It makes you miserable and it also closes you off to other, potentially more satisfying romantic relationships.
I am not a religious person. I don’t meditate or chant or pray. But lines from poems I love run through my head and they feel holy to me in a way. There’s a poem by Adrienne Rich I first read twenty years ago called “Splittings” that I thought of when I read your letter. The last two lines of the poem are: “I choose to love this time for once / with all my intelligence.” It seemed such a radical thought when I first read those lines when I was twenty-two—that love could rise from our deepest, most reasoned intentions rather than our strongest shadowy doubts. The number of times I choose to love this time for once with all my intelligence has run through my head in the past twenty years cannot be counted. There hasn’t been a day when those lines weren’t present for me in ways both conscious and unconscious. You could say I’m devoted to them, even in times when I’ve failed profoundly to live up to their aspirations.
I suggest that you devote yourself to them too, sweet pea. The question isn’t whether you should stay or go. The question is how would your life be transformed if you chose to love this time for once with all your intelligence?
I’m not talking to your crotch, sister. I’m looking you in the eye.
Yours,
Sugar
***
Sugar will be taking next week off, but will return on November 4.
19 responses
I never know which I like more, Sugar, your advice or your writing.
Keep ’em coming.
Even in columns that seem so specific to a situation, there’s always a profound sliver of relatability in your writing and advice. Thanks, as ever, Sugar.
Oh Sugar, I’ve missed you! I haven’t had the chance to read your last several posts, but this one has prompted me to go back and catch up pronto. This post is the perfect example of your honesty and wisdom – you’re telling this woman exactly what she needs to hear (what we all need to hear), when those that are near to us fear doing so (didn’t mean to rhyme just then). I’m struggling with a break up now myself – my young boyfriend and I just broke up for the 3rd (and final) time. How many more times can two people break up? I agree with you- it should not be so difficult to love, sustain, and connect. Those roiling feelings of love (a close cousin to as you say, scarcity and uncertainty) are intimacy issues in disguise. Thanks again Sugar.
Brilliant advice, as always, Sugar! I can attest to its wisdom. Dear “Should I stay or should I go now”: I have traveled the road you are on, and then somewhere along the line an awesome shrink taught me (although in not nearly so eloquent terms) to “choose to love this time for once / with all my intelligence.†I was resistant at first, but then when I could take the deprivation no longer, I listened, and I opened my eyes, my mind, and my heart. This gave me the courage to step away from the proverbial crack pipe of an intermittently satisfying (read: addictive) relationship, and then it freed me up for the industrial strength high quality love of the awesome dude I’m now married to. (Just celebrated 7 years together.) Take Sugar’s advice! Step away from the crack pipe.
This is wonderful, and holy crap, so is “Splittings.” It. just. resonates. I think I’m going to read that poem every day for a long time. Thank you, Sugar.
I’ve been reading your columns all these months, Sugar, and I’m finally de-lurking to tell you that I think you are astounding. Your intelligence and kindness is truly original. I hope you know you change lives every week. Even when I don’t think the question applies to me, your answer always does. I don’t know who got you here, but I thank whoever that is. The Rumpus chose right when they chose you.
“True intimacy isn’t a cluster fuck or a psychodrama. It isn’t the ‘highest highs and lowest lows.’ It isn’t John Donne whispered into your crotch followed by months of not-exactly-agreed-upon celibacy. It’s a tiny bit of those things on occasion with a whole lot of everything else in between. It’s communion and mellow compatibility. It’s friendship and mutual respect. It’s not having to say we must have an ‘absolute restriction on each other’ for thirty days.”
Love you as ever, Sugar. Brilliant, that.
What Luke said. Thank you for writing the column, Sugar. It helps so much!
When ever I feel so lost that I want to cry I read your column and somehow I am able to find myself again and go on better than before. Thank you Sugar for inspiring me on a weekly basis.
I’m also in a relationship that is pretty starved. I can relate. I was also indoctrinated with the fly-over fear of ending up alone. I also consider myself a complicated sort of creature used to not finding suitable mates and the pain as well as joy of solitude.
Like you, I cope by drawing lines in the sand that I tremble at, like you I also feel sorry for my partner because I’m able to sympathize with what’s happening if not understand why bad choices are made.
The problem is, people who are like this will keep binding and gagging you as their power and security insurance, until they are 100% sure you are at your emotional overload, and this will prevent you from ever being able to enjoy the good parts. You get them, these great gems of connection, then where do they go? Instantly the bait and switch occurs and something unsettling follows. You droop. Now you are completely helpless.
But once you are no longer empowered, you are not only safe and weak but again appealing to save and comfort. Back they come running, everything you always wanted, always too late to fix what is was that hurt you about their previous behavior, but in time to start the process of falling back in love anew. I call this white night syndrome, and they are known for quoting poetry and being goddamned amazing once they’ve got your ovaries in their back pocket. Part of how they feel powerful and evade the guilt knowing they’ve planned all your pain is to be the most amazing messiah ever once they return, able to rationalize that whatever they give you in the now makes up for the long bits of withholding that they specifically created for dramatic effect. They choose to be in control of when the clock starts new, clipping off any of the bad stuff they’ve left you with from any drive-by in the past. But love is like sleep, you cannot make it up. Going without does permanent damage, and being in a relationship like this is akin to radiation exposure.
I fell in love with the goodness of this white knight, so I want to believe the manipulation and withholding of love has some deep redeeming reason. We both hate that person who causes pain and havoc, and the mask that’s slipping terrifies us both. But I know even though we are making progress, I’ll be a husk by the time my efforts bring us into an unsteady truce where what I need doesn’t feel like a favor I’m bartering in exchange for some sacrifice later. Beware of lovers who demand to know your bare minimum price tag for staying and hold you to that like its a fair deal. I’ll be a barren planet by the time his half life wears off, in need of even more than anyone could give, and then we really will have a reason to split because I won’t be able to make a green bean casserole without having a silent break down.
No matter how much of the life you love now, no matter how much this person has become the bedrock of your entire romantic experience and sense of self-worth, eventually you will not be able to enjoy any of it because you will be completely drained. Too much will be eroded by the caustic nature of this person. I am close enough to describe the numb place I have visited. The longer I wait the harder it gets, but like you I have my whole emotional life invested so I am pulling double duty to find my way out and learn not to devalue myself when I’m being emotionally starved. In short I am learning to become my own knight in shining armor, the elegant love I thought would come. I’m learning not to look forward and to respect who I am when I walk down the street.
As soon as I finish tying up the lose ends, I plan to go on a very good, long awaited hike. Some days it frightens me, but others I sit and think how wonderful it will be not to have to deal with all the debilitating emotional selfishness a white night inflicts. I see so many women who got screwed by the same myth. If you’re not young and beautiful, of which I am clearly neither, or you’re “complicated” meaning not weak and helpless and totally pliable, which I resent, then you will suffer unimaginable loneliness. What they don’t tell you is that you’ll suffer that anyway, and that maybe it’s better to be alone than with someone else who will never get better in time for your happiness.
I’m also in a relationship that is pretty starved. I can relate. I was also indoctrinated with the fly-over fear of ending up alone. I also consider myself a complicated sort of creature used to not finding suitable mates and the pain as well as joy of solitude.
Like you, I cope by drawing lines in the sand that I tremble at, like you I also feel sorry for my partner because I’m able to sympathize with what’s happening if not understand why bad choices are made.
The problem is, people who are like this will keep binding and gagging you as their power and security insurance, until they are 100% sure you are at your emotional overload, and this will prevent you from ever being able to enjoy the good parts. You get them, these great gems of connection, then where do they go? Instantly the bait and switch occurs and something unsettling follows. You droop. Now you are completely helpless.
But once you are no longer empowered, you are not only safe and weak but again appealing to save and comfort. Back they come running, everything you always wanted, always too late to fix what is was that hurt you about their previous behavior, but in time to start the process of falling back in love anew. I call this white knight syndrome, and they are known for quoting poetry and being goddamned amazing once they’ve got your ovaries in their back pocket. Part of how they feel powerful and evade the guilt knowing they’ve planned all your pain is to be the most amazing messiah ever once they return, able to rationalize that whatever they give you in the now makes up for the long bits of withholding that they specifically created for dramatic effect. They choose to be in control of when the clock starts new, clipping off any of the bad stuff they’ve left you with from any drive-by in the past. But love is like sleep, you cannot make it up. Going without does permanent damage, and being in a relationship like this is akin to radiation exposure.
I fell in love with the goodness of this white knight, so I want to believe the manipulation and withholding of love has some deep redeeming reason. We both hate that person who causes pain and havoc, and the mask that’s slipping terrifies us both. But I know even though we are making progress, I’ll be a husk by the time my efforts bring us into an unsteady truce where what I need doesn’t feel like a favor I’m bartering in exchange for some sacrifice later. Beware of lovers who demand to know your bare minimum price tag for staying and hold you to that like its a fair deal. I’ll be a barren planet by the time his half life wears off, in need of even more than anyone could give, and then we really will have a reason to split because I won’t be able to make a green bean casserole without having a silent break down.
No matter how much of the life you love now, no matter how much this person has become the bedrock of your entire romantic experience and sense of self-worth, eventually you will not be able to enjoy any of it because you will be completely drained. Too much will be eroded by the caustic nature of this person. I am close enough to describe the numb place I have visited. The longer I wait the harder it gets, but like you I have my whole emotional life invested so I am pulling double duty to find my way out and learn not to devalue myself when I’m being emotionally starved. In short I am learning to become my own knight in shining armor, the elegant love I thought would come. I’m learning not to look forward and to respect who I am when I walk down the street.
As soon as I finish tying up the lose ends, I plan to go on a very good, long awaited hike. Some days it frightens me, but others I sit and think how wonderful it will be not to have to deal with all the debilitating emotional selfishness a white knight inflicts. I see so many women who got screwed by the same myth. If you’re not young and beautiful, of which I am clearly neither, or you’re “complicated†meaning not weak and helpless and totally pliable, which I resent, then you will suffer unimaginable loneliness. What they don’t tell you is that you’ll suffer that anyway, and that maybe it’s better to be alone than with someone else who will never get better in time for your happiness.
Wonderful advice, and very true. I know lots of people who have stayed in dead-end relationships, and that’s where they still are. I don’t know anyone who left a dead-end relationship who then spent the rest of her (or his) life alone, if the leaving was done with a truthful intent to self-examine, grow up a little, and be genuinely open to something real and better. It’s the being genuinely open that’s hard … and the growing up part is hard, too. It’s easier to stay stuck.
That last line is a killer, Sugar. This one really speaks to me. Thank you.
Sugar, Sugar, Sugar, thank you for your words of wisdom – I also feel relieved and thankful for your honesty, your spirit and your ability to teach us all to be authentic in this crazy world. You have made my day, again.
I was in that highest highs lowest lows relationship for quite some time, but somehow, after months of painful mutual indecision and innumerable mini crises and honeyed reunions, we figured out a way to stop being afraid and trust each other, and ourselves. Although I’d never heard of that Rich poem, that was exactly what I did: chose to love with all my intelligence. And soon after I did it, he was able to do it. And we slowly were able to go together to a place both calm and thrilling. And now, three years later, we are still loving, still intelligent, still trusting. No idea where it will end up, but since we let go of the fear, it hasn’t mattered so much.
Oh! I live in a town like this in the Midwest, and, while I’m not a lesbian, I know people like the Lusty Broad and identify with her. Many of us past the prime of our youth, straight or gay, feel like we’re swimming in a small pond, that the odds are against us, and that we have to settle. I like to believe and hope in your message, Sugar, but, agh!, the numbers are not in our favor. I’ll keep on believin’!
I don’t usually comment, but this column was particularly close to me and my previous relationship. I immediately identified with the idea that sometimes you know the right answer. I knew the right answer. It took me several years to figure it out and I’m still struggling with sticking to it.
However, 123reader’s comment is my life summed up perfectly, described expertly, and I wonder how this person knows exactly what was going on in my relationship. Thank you for putting into words the feelings I had floating around in my head. Thank you for letting me know that I’m not the only one.
Audre Lorde (from memory, best I can do): To the first woman I ever courted and left. She taught me that women who want without needing are expensive and sometimes wasteful, but women who need without wanting are dangerous: they suck you in and pretend not to notice.
Wow – I just discovered your column, Sugar, and I’m blown away. This one goes in my Bookmarks so I can refer to it the next time I’m feeling bad about my recent breakup. It was a 2 1/2 year relationship where we felt the same way as The Lusty Broad here. We’ve been broken up for a smidge over 2 months and, even though I still miss him, it no longer feels like he was my soul mate or that we had some mystical connection. The way past that is distance and time, LB. Now the things I think about when I think about him are the manipulation, unavailability, selfishness, and yes, my own needy and unforgivable behavior. A relationship like the one LB describes is not meeting either partner’s needs, as mine didn’t. It hurts immeasurably to let go, but it’s the only way to fly. I didn’t believe that 4 weeks ago, but I do now.
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