2024-06-14 why my relationships failed

The speaker reflects on why their past relationships didn't work. They had a strong sense of self and always felt in control, rarely considering the opinions and desires of their partners. They acknowledge that their power corrupted them and caused them to dominate their relationships. They realize that their behavior was not fair or healthy for the other person. They also mention a current non-physical relationship that allows them to be themselves without the need for constant contact or attachment. They feel fulfilled intellectually and spiritually in this relationship. Overall, they have learned from their past mistakes and have found a healthier way to connect with others. I just had an insight into why I think my relationships didn't work. I had such a strong sense of myself, what I wanted, I was in control, I had essentially controlled everything about life for me, in order to end up here in this situation, that while I would of course listen to what somebody said to me, usually I felt like I knew better. My idea would be better to do, let's do it like this, and never really feeling when it came to things that would affect me, never really feeling like anyone else could make that decision but me, which of course affected them, because we were doing it together, we were a couple. That's the problem, if I feel like I need to act and feel comfortable about what I do, if I'm alone, it's much easier to do that, I don't have to take anyone else into account, I don't have to consider them, I don't have to find a compromise that works because I'm in a relationship and it's only fair that I don't dominate it. But what I think happened, slowly I did, certainly with my, with Sarah and the mother of my child, there was a total domination of the world. I never listened to her really, I would try to do things that I thought would be good for her, much like what my mum used to do, but not really what she wanted, and over time she stopped trying to tell me what she wanted, I didn't listen, so why should she? I kind of knew I was doing it, and I knew that it wasn't good for me to do it, and yet it was very seductive, it was very easy to keep doing it. Power, which is what it was, corrupts. I was in power and it corrupted me, I was in power and it corrupted me, and while initially I felt I was being benign, altruistic, considerate, several years down the line it changed. I wasn't needing to be or aware of that in any way like I used to be, so I just did what I felt was right, I did my best to consider the others, but ultimately I was chief and had final say in what took place. Later on, in later relationships, I wasn't doing that anywhere near like that, in fact I wasn't really doing it at all, and in fact with my last relationship she was doing that to me, so I got to experience it full circle, as it were. When she was doing it to me, it was hard to accept, and that's when I got to understand what Sarah must have been experiencing, and I was only with her, my last relationship for a year, I was with Sarah for 20 years. That was also an example of feeling like this isn't working, would love it to be different, yet could do nothing to change it, and I had opportunities, there are other people I could have got involved with, other lives I could have got involved with, like I would later do after her, and yet could never leave her, could never let her go. Being in power was so intoxicating that I always wanted that drug, no other drug, no other experience would work, because it wouldn't give me the same fix. When I later experienced things after Sarah, I didn't want that fix anymore, I had understood and learned that doing it wasn't right, but it just sort of happened, I never really intended to, but Sarah was very keen to defer and give way, and she trusted me, and initially I felt like I deserved that trust, later on I did not, but by then I was in power, so I could still make things happen the way I wanted them to, and the corruption means that the way I want it to isn't full of integrity, there's a lot of deceit, there's a lot of hidden, there could be downright barefaced lie. Perhaps I had to go on the journey I went on subsequently in order to cleanse myself of that, which may explain why I'm not in any, I'm not looking for anything to replace those relationships, having been solitary now for five years, it just seems like this is the way it's supposed to be for me, and it could be that it may not be ultimately the best thing for me, but perhaps it's the best thing for them. I don't want to get involved with anybody else and hurt them in any way, even though it may be, from a soul level, evolutionarily, the experience that they need, I'm sure I felt many times with Sarah that she was having the experience she needed to become more of who she was, and she did become a lot more of who she was. By the end of our time, because she was the one who ended it, she was strong enough to do so, she knew that she had to, her journey, which was a hard one, and much of which I wasn't really aware of, until at least later, became what she needed to become who she was. Now, I'm not saying, oh, I take credit for anything, but the experience we had was definitely powerful, and it's not that I think I would hurt anyone, and it's not that I think I would become controlling or self-centred, I know I can always compromise. I know I can always surrender and accept. What I don't think I can do is do that on a permanent basis, at least in a single situation. If you like, the relationship I have now is not a physical one, nor is it in any way an attachment, there's no expectation, there's no need to check up, there's no need to wonder how you're doing, haven't heard from you today. Many days can go by before I interact in what feels like a relationship that doesn't have any of those things that would interfere. I just experience, for a short temporary period, the feeling of connected to, being a part of, caring, loving, giving, helping, and then letting go. I never actually forget, and if the phone bings and there's a message saying, can you come round, or would you like a shower, or anything, I always do it, I'll always help, can you be with Eliza for a few hours, suddenly there's an important Zoom call she needs to take, she can't focus if Eliza's just wandering around, she needs her to be looked after, and that's what I do, and I'll always do it, I'm always available. But in between, I'm not thinking, oh, what she's doing, oh, I need to know everything, and making, sending a text, telling her what I, no, that's how I used to be, in, when I was in a much deeper, physical, more attachment-filled issue of power play, and needs, and that wasn't something that worked. This feels more evolved, and the other relationship I have, with someone I interact with who I've never met, who doesn't live in this country, who I have been involved with for several years, and who I speak to regularly, and there is an ability to be open, and reveal, and share, and look at, and explore things I don't do with anybody else, including Kay. Lou, there was, it came close, and there were many things that we were able to explore together very deeply, and this, in many ways, is a continuation of that, but in a different way. Very different way. To have it twice, but without the need for anything physical, without having to see, without having to make phone calls, without being involved with, also feels evolved. I get to be who I really feel myself to be, in each of those situations, and each of those situations I feel different. It's much harder, in many ways, with Kay, because of the physicality, because of the proximity, because of the eye contact, and the body language, and the voice, that's a much harder experience than just recordings and text. But the recordings and text have a greater depth to them, far greater. And so, I get to have what, for me, are the best relationship, but ones that work for me, that don't interfere with me being me, doing me, which I always felt kind of was selfish. If I just did me, if I just cared for myself, looked after myself, it was selfish. I was being selfish. Once I realised that definition didn't work, that that actually wasn't something I needed to ascribe to, once I was able to let go of that, and I don't feel selfish, to be me, to do me. And, as it turns out, I feel able, much more able, to be with each of those people, and especially Kay, I'm much more able to be with her, and to spend time with her, and to be in her world, and to listen to her, and to help her, and her daughter. That is so similar to being in a healthy relationship, but without any of the issues that arise from the physical attachment thing that arises when one is like that, or at least, when I am like that. I suspect that if I had a very busy life, going to meetings, flying off to so-and-so, be back on Tuesday, experience, then a relationship with another person, with their own life, would actually be very rewarding, because there would be no need, the closeness would still involve catching up, but there's lots of space. Lots and lots and lots of space. The experience of my relationships has always been no space. I want to be with them all the time, not because I have to do everything with them, but I feel I can do anything with them, and would like to. I want to explore this with them. I want to try that with them, because it feels different to do something that I may have done before, with somebody I've never done it with. That's part of the attraction in many ways, to discover who another person is, by sharing experiences with them. There's only so much one can do when talking about oneself. I really get to know somebody when I experience something with them, in the same moment. So I kind of still have that in a very small way, plus I also have a profound intellectual connection, spiritual connection, that fills me and fulfills me in the other ways I need. Nothing is missing. I even have a temporary surrogate daughter, step-daughtery experience with someone who's incredibly difficult to deal with. Way, way more difficult. I had it easy with Emily. She was a brilliant child. She was just so wonderful, so capable, so good. No issues with her. I could just care about her as best I could, advise her, show her, protect her. Her mum helped her, gave her, loved her in her way, and we brought her up to a point where she could just take over completely, and actually not have to have anything to do with me, just like I didn't have anything to do with my dad. Once I was old enough and he'd already left, I didn't have to go seek him out. Not until much, much, much later, 30 years later, and that only lasted briefly. Hardly any contact since that point. Feels absolutely as it should be. Nothing is wrong. It all worked out. So, I don't feel like anything has gone wrong. I don't feel like whatever's taken place where it could have been different. Of course it could. There are many possible timelines that could have come from different choices at different times. But it didn't matter. None of it matters. It was all a foil, a background to experiencing, to feeling, to connecting, to sharing, to having opportunities to discover more of who I am. To remember, perhaps. I don't know. We might say, you could certainly say, many people could say, that they came from before. This isn't the first time they're being a physical person. I don't carry memories. I don't have experiences. Even though I trust the integrity, there is enough evidence that this is probably true. But from my own personal experience, I may be new. This is the first time for me. That's the way it feels. I don't carry the past, even the past of this life. I don't have the past of anything before that, which I suspect would interfere. Perhaps that's why, for the most part, we don't have it. And only a certain few can have it, because they've gone beyond where having it would interfere with them. So for me, while it could be said that there are no mistakes, it doesn't matter what I've done, it doesn't matter the choices I made, I have ended up, currently, in this moment, here. Now, there could be a certain amount of time still to go, where things can still happen, and change, and in unexpected ways. It's still possible. Can't rule it out. In the meantime, though, there is only this, and it seems like this is exactly where I need to be. This is exactly where I am being. In not needing more than I actually have, I don't attempt to create a moment where, for the most part, I'm going to spend more time with Kay and Eliza. The best I can be, for the most part, is just open to whenever they invite me, whenever they ask if I can step up, come over, help, sort, care. I can just say yes, because that's as much as I can do. Anything more than that is agenda. There's ulterior motive. I'm looking for something. I want more. So it becomes like a fix, and then I want more, and then there needs to be more, and I start to lose that aspect of myself that becomes needy and requires looking after as if I need a mother again. Because it's that bit that I had from my mother that I desperately wanted to let go of, was in many ways the very thing I needed to have got to the point where I could. She always made me feel safe and secure. I never once felt like I had gone without anything I actually needed, and for the most part, even wanted. I never really went without it. She always found a way to make it happen. All life did that. Of course, I've looked at, pointed out what seemed to be flaws, but none of us are perfect. I'm sure Sarah might say the same thing about me, how flawed I am to be who she experienced me as. I'm not him anymore. I have no idea, not that it would ever happen, what it would be like to meet her again. It would be like, I think, meeting someone for the first time, because she would be somebody else. She wouldn't be anything like I might remember, and I am not who I was when I was with her, so the experience would be like meeting somebody new. But there would be shared experiences of the past that would still connect us, because there were long periods of time when we were very close. I loved her in a way that might not have seemed that way to her sometimes, but I always felt I did. I just couldn't express it. I couldn't do anything that would encourage closer connection when it seemed like breaking up was actually what was needed. She did this when she was ready. I could have done it and tried to do it years earlier. I tried walking away many times, packing a bag, walking away. I was gone. I wasn't coming back. I just didn't get very far before I turned around and came back, and I did it quickly enough. No one knew I'd ever gone. It needed her to sever it. The connection, the attachment was so deep by that point. So we were both suffering, but it took us enough time to let go. While I struggled in many ways to decide to let go from America, I was looking for a way to come home, or at least wanted to. The only solution was to come home and help my mum, as if it would work. And I suppose it did work to some degree, but there were also issues that interfered with it that made it very difficult, to the point where there was a hoping, a longing for it to end. The only way it could end would be for her to go. I certainly couldn't leave, and I wanted to. And so I was back in the same situation that I'd been in several times before, only with different characters in a different setting. But all of this experience I'm describing has formed me, has made me face myself. I've had to look deep inside myself, go over, reconsider, reflect on. I'm trying to understand. I don't like making the same mistakes. I need to know what I'm doing wrong and then find a way to correct it. But I have to know what I'm doing wrong first. Sometimes it's not easy to see that. And sometimes someone might be willing to tell me it and I'm not willing to listen. That happened once or twice in America. I couldn't allow another's perspective who thought that they were seeing it true, and they may very well have been, certainly from their perspective. I couldn't allow it to enter me. I just couldn't allow it. The ego had a shutter, had a protective barrier, and it just couldn't get through. I could see it reflected on the screen, so I knew what was being said, but I never felt it to be true. It never touched me. It never reached me. And it made her angry because that was the intention. She expected and needed, wanted, her opinion to be heard because she knew it was true. And I made her feel like, well, I made her not feel heard. She couldn't have liked that and reacted with anger, storming off. We didn't speak to each other for weeks. My relationships have all been very powerful in many, many ways. Even the friendships, even the acquaintances, they've all had an element of something that creates challenge. Anything that's been superficial doesn't last. How can it? What's the point? I cannot maintain a facade. I cannot hold myself in that space when there's so much more of me that wants to express itself. I have to be around people I can feel real with. I'm learning to some degree how to do that with Kay, and because we don't see each other very much, maybe a couple of hours, four hours a week, and in a way that doesn't spend much time, it's not ever really going to happen. With my textual recording sharing contact, we've explored, I've been able to reveal, look at, talk about incredible deep things and it continues. It doesn't stop. It's open-ended. It never fills up. That's a special thing. It means a lot to have an experience, to have a connection like that. In fact, having a connection like that makes up for having no other connections anywhere else. Even though I can't have too much of it, but I have physical things to fill myself with in between. I need physical stuff. I can't just live in the virtual world. I've known that for a long time.