David:
My love history began when I was quite young. It all started with the (oh, so serious) crush I had on Sarah Madland in 2nd grade. God she was cute...and smart and kind. I loved the sense of strength and purpose with which she carried herself...the lilt in her voice when she spoke...and the way I felt whenever I got within a few feet of her. I wasn't sure what I wanted with her but I knew that it had something to do with love.
I was Sarah's secret admirer for a brief yet sweet time. I had butterflies in my stomach every time I saw her. I loved that I couldn't stop thinking about her and that my thoughts about her always seemed to be such good ones. Yet it wasn't enough just to feel my feelings. I needed to take action. To this end I lovingly carved her name in a 3 x 7-inch piece of lumber upon which I painted a blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and a beautiful seven-colored rainbow. I wrapped it in Navy blue popcorn wrapping paper (without a note) and then slyly slipped it into her desk when no one was looking. (Fortunately the Gods had placed me in the desk immediately behind hers.)
I remember the moment she opened her desk and found this romantic and lovingly hand-crafted package. It involved some shock on her part, very rapid heartbeats and deep breathing on my part, and the giggling laughter and fixated interest of every other student in the classroom who had by then gathered around her desk. I don't think Sarah was used to this particular variety of attention at this stage in her short life. The rather tragic end to this romantic short story is that my "best friend" told her who put the gift in her desk! This was bad juju for sure. Sarah was embarrassed and I think a little angry about the whole incident. Now she knew whom to blame. Not to mention the fact that I was betrayed by the only person I confided in regarding the source of the mysterious gift. There was nothing "secret" about my admiration for her any more. My internal love affair with Sarah came to an abrupt end, and to this day I don't know if she liked me then or not. I do know that her passion was certainly not equal to mine. I suppose that could have been the time when I began desiring the company of older women. I concluded then that women my age just weren't ready for what I seemed ready for. I've always been ahead of my time. I also think it was then that I resolved to take a more direct approach in the future.
I'm still in love with love. But in my many experiences I have come to realize that love and relationship are indeed separate things.
Abigail:
"Your only obligation in any lifetime is to be true to yourself."
It was 1984; I was in 8th grade on the way to a movie with my best friend Kelly. Before he would agree to drive us to the mall, her father insisted that we memorize those words. Printed on a cheap plaque with sailboats and rainbows, the words meant nothing to us other than a way to get out of the house. I figured the guy was crazy or drunk, and as I look back on it, he may have been both. But now, sixteen years later, I realize that the mantra has stuck. I misinterpreted or completely ignored it pretty often, however, since I first heard it. The years following the bathroom dŽcor incident were filled with ways I gave up my inner truth in order to fit in, be popular, be liked by boys, develop relationships, and the like. I often ignored the voices in my head screaming "NO!," and pushed through, thinking a "yes" would get me what I desired. I'm not even sure I knew what it was I wanted. I think at first it took the form of a husky boyfriend in a hockey jacket, then a longhaired hippie with a van, and many other incarnations depending on the circumstances and surroundings of my life. I thought it was a relationship I was looking for, and for years I never understood why I couldn't have what I wanted or ever be satisfied by the love I received.
Somehow my idea of a relationship has been intrinsically connected with my self worth. If I'm involved, I am worthy. Someone (aside from my dear family and friends) loves me. Therefore I have been recognized and some grand scorekeeper has given me a check for each time I have been loved by a member of the opposite sex. It seems so foolish to write this. I am a beautiful, self-aware, and confident woman. I can barely believe that I am still trapped by the silly ideas perpetuated by mainstream media and culture. And yet, I also see how this view has kept me confined through many years and painful experiences.
Luckily, at some point a few years ago I started waking up about my sexuality and intimate relationships and cleared the way for a fabulous man to walk into my life. David and I have been together for over a year and a half, and the love that we share has kept my internal scorekeeper busy with enough work for the rest of my life. But aside from placating my self-worth barometer for a time, this relationship has caused me to look very honestly at my motivation for primary intimate relationships. In turn, my relationship to the words on that bathroom plaque is continuously evolving.
David:
I experience some of the most exquisite sweetness I've ever known with Abigail. I've never felt so loved, cherished, and supported by a woman that I was with. I know that I've never loved, cherished, and supported this fully before. It is a fantastic thing to love this deeply--I've never enjoyed spending so much time with someone before. I love the surprise of our relationship. We seem so different in some fundamental ways. Yet there is something so deep and (yes, there's that word again) sweet that draws us together over and over again. The love I feel in my heart for Abigail snuck up on me. It wasn't my ego that found this woman. I felt then and feel now that it was my Spirit that led me here.
I've struggled with one issue in relationship ever since I can remember. How do I maintain intimacy with another and not lose myself? I'm sure I'm not alone in tackling this question, although at times it feels that way.
Abigail:
I had big plans before David and I got together. I was about to quit my job, go traveling in South America, and then come back to start grad school in the fall. But I knew Love like this didn't come knocking every day. Deciding between traveling by myself in a foreign country or being at home snuggled in the arms of my loved one was a tough choice, but my heart had no problem making the decision.
That has been one of the biggest gifts that I have gained from this relationship: a deeper understanding of what it means to listen to my heart. But listening to my heart to the effect of giving up my exciting plans was definitely not what I or my feminist friends and coworkers had in mind. I had vowed to myself not to compromise for relationship anymore. The choices I made about my life path at that time were exactly the opposite of what I would have advised any friend in a similar situation ("Don't change your plans for a man"; "Make sure you do what furthers your future, not only the future of a possibly fleeting relationship"...). And yet, looking back, I know that this time I made the perfect choice. Not because the relationship has lasted thus far, but because I gave myself to an experience that I knew I had a deep desire to explore.
And that is what it comes down to, doesn't it? Recognizing your own heart's desire and acting upon it. This is the place where David and I are slowly but surely learning how to be true partners, walking side by side and supporting each other's choices. It can be really scary when we face an obstacle that seems as if it could tear us apart. I've witnessed our tendency to condemn the other for threatening the safety of our relationship. And in those moments it seems as if the entire world might end if either of us were to make the "wrong" choice. Yet in my heart and soul I know the power that we each hold individually. I am continuously learning to trust that regardless of our relationship status, our own essence and power will not be compromised.
David:
I've had the idea for a long time that one function of intimate partners is to balance the extremes of the other. With Abigail and me, that meant balancing my more ethereal, spiritually-oriented qualities with her more Earthly, pragmatic qualities. I've spent most of our relationship working on becoming more pragmatic and ambitious. In turn, I've had my own agenda to assist Abigail in taking on the spiritually and metaphysically inclined aspects of my nature.
This has been an old pattern of mine. I've had a strong tendency to become energetically and emotionally one with the person I'm with. The problem with this is that I have a tendency to overdo it. I merge away my distinctness, my sovereignty, and my power. Here lies the paradox of a healthy relationship. The desire to merge with the beloved is kindred with our desire to merge with the divine. Yet our desire for individuation, sovereignty, and freedom is one of the most basic expressions of what it is to be human. Both of these drives are innate. I suppose we're touching on one of the core conundrums of all humanity here. My mind seems to handle all of it without a hitch. My body and emotions on a daily basis are another matter.
I'm now coming to the conclusion that Abigail isn't supposed to become more like me, take on my traits, or incorporate more of my perspectives. Nor am I supposed to do the same in regards to her. Instead, each of our jobs is to invest in our own uniqueness.
Abigail:
That investing in our own uniqueness thing can sure get a bit tricky though. For example, I find it hard not to judge (since of course, my way is the right way; sometimes it just takes David a little longer to see it). But I believe it is our desire to develop and nurture our own individuality that makes our relationship work and keeps our love flowing. It's the times when I forget that David is not just an extension of myself that I forget the magic of our union.
On some days, when I guess I have nothing better to do, it seems to be my job to plan his life while also structuring and figuring out my own. However, he doesn't necessarily appreciate my desire to have "it all figured out," especially not his own affairs. I find it tricky balancing my knack for navigating in the material realms with my somewhat neurotic desires to control my surroundings (my partner included). It doesn't help either, when we let our past experiences with others (parents, lovers, friends) color our interactions with each other. That is where it gets the trickiest, learning to distinguish when we are relating to each other and when we are reacting to a similar situation from our past. Often it takes some time and a little reflection to see ourselves clearly.
It is in those moments of reflection, when I step back and see his beauty apart from my own, that I am truly thankful for the gifts that David brings to me and to the world. It comes down to simply recognizing and remembering. Recognizing that he is not here to fix me, to entertain me, or to make me whole. Remembering that I am whole unto myself and that at least for now, I have found a beautiful friend to journey with.
David:
For the first several months Abigail and I were together the experience we had bordered on the idyllic. Idyllic in the sense that we couldn't get enough of each other, never seemed to get into any fights, and had more fun together than either of us had with anyone else. We existed in a state where our relationship was our primary source of nourishment. But it became apparent that this way of being was fragile and inevitably unsustainable. The re-assertion of each of our own individuality forced us into a position where our relationship would either have to change radically or end as we knew it.
In a way, both those things have happened.
Abigail:
Throughout our relationship we have been able to rely on various tools of spiritual and emotional growth. Some of these tools we each brought with us to the relationship and some we developed and learned together through participating in the Naka-Ima workshops at Lost Valley. The principle teachings of Naka-Ima are based on honest communication and letting go of attachments--those things from our past that keep us stuck in old and unpleasant patterns. These two aspects, as well as the community of friends and support that we have developed through the workshops, have become key elements to the health of our relationship and our individual selves. While we practice honest communication and the art of letting go throughout our daily lives, each time we assist at one of the courses or participate in a related workshop, we are called to a deeper level of understanding and utilizing these concepts. Each time we travel to Lost Valley, we expose and explore our relationship and ourselves in deeper and more honest ways. The layers of the onion keep peeling away as we get closer and closer to our core.
Most recently we spent time at Lost Valley co-creating and participating in the Naka-Ima Summer Arts Camp--a weekend filled with heartfelt interactions, creativity, play, honesty, and community. Since David and I had been experiencing an especially sweet and playful time together during the first few days of our stay, I was struck when I felt his energies pulling away from me one evening. I knew something must have come up in the afternoon workshop he had just participated in. When he said we had to talk, I knew what was coming and yet still felt a sinking feeling in my belly...that feeling like I was going to get the "breakup" talk and he had just changed his mind--I really wasn't that lovable after all.
Well, it wasn't exactly that, but he really was making a shift in the way he was relating to me. In fact, something came up so strongly for him that he was considering the idea of "opening up" our relationship to other people--an idea that I do not think would be a healthy way for me to be in relationship. While this wasn't the first time this subject had come up, this time we obviously had very different ideas about what was going to work for us.
Initially I was devastated. I felt betrayed, abandoned, disrespected, unlovable, ugly, and ashamed. Ashamed because I was unwilling to try something that seems to work for some self-aware, sexually liberated people, and also ashamed because I believed that his desires were a direct reflection of my worth as a lover and partner.
While we were talking this through, the Arts Camp talent show had started. Actually, it would be inaccurate to call it a talent show. It was more a get-on-stage-show-us-yourself-through-some-form-of-artistic-expression-and-we-will-love-and-appreciate-you-and-reflect-back-what-we-see sort of show. Anyway, despite my emotional state, I really didn't want to miss the show. So David and I hugged and cried together, and then I walked in tears into the "theater." It was a magical evening. Each person who shared did so with such honest warmth and beauty, and I cried loud and hard throughout the whole performance. That's what's incredible about Naka-Ima: it is fine to be exactly how you are! Feeling your feelings as they come up and recognizing that it really is ok to let yourself be seen--your pain as well (and certainly not to the exclusion of) your joy. I was given lots of love and support in that room. Not the doting or panicked "are you ok? What's wrong" sort of support, but a warm glance, a solid and loving hand on my back. I knew that I could grab any one of the forty people in the room and they would be a supportive friend. It felt incredible and I began to feel less and less ashamed.
Later that evening, I came to a powerful realization. Something shifted in me and it suddenly didn't matter what David did or didn't do. This wasn't about him dumping me and me needing to protect myself and pick up the pieces of my broken heart. In fact, this wasn't about him at all. This was about me consciously creating my life. This was a perfect opportunity for me to look at all of the ways in which I was making decisions based on maintaining this "amazing relationship," ways in which I had sacrificed things that I wanted to do for fear of what might happen to "us." This was an opportunity to be clear about my needs and recognize that I didn't need anyone else to fill them.
David:
Telling the truth can be terrifying. It scares me because I have no idea what that act may lead to.
During the first days of the Arts Camp I was filled with a sense of wholeness I hadn't felt in a long time. What was so frightening was that the wholeness I felt came from acknowledging a truth that had the potential to end the most beautiful relationship I've ever been a part of.
The truth was I wanted to open up the relationship and explore emotional and sexual intimacy with other people. This desire had been one that Abigail and I had discussed for a long time. It had become clear by this point that she had no interest in opening up the relationship and that our relationship would be threatened if I wanted to explore intimacy with others.
It was very difficult for me to face this. I didn't want us to break up. Contrary to what it seemed natural for her to conclude (based on my desire for intimacy with others in addition to her), I had never felt more excited about the deepening love between us.
The process we went through was intense. I felt so transparent, raw, scared, and yet charged by the energy that was flowing through me as I continued to uncover the truth within me. This was so different from anything I'd gone through before. The support we received from our close friends touched me deeply. I could not imagine a more vulnerable time in which to come to my community. For a while it seemed that our desires were completely at odds. Then this magical thing happened....
I realized something for the very first time.
Relationship to me has always been associated with suppressing my full self. When all of my past romantic relationships have ended I've thrived in the weeks and months that followed. Huge bursts of creative and spiritual energy flowed through me and my essence shined forth, as if finally emerging after months behind a cloud. I always felt strange and somewhat guilty about this. Shouldn't I be grieving? But it was impossible for me to start grieving fully in the weeks that followed a break-up. I was too busy feeling elated and free. In each case, time passed and then I would begin to grieve the loss in full.
I always thought it had to do with the woman I was with. I never understood that the source of this experience was me.
Through this process with Abigail I saw that I could end the cycle once and for all. I saw that I could own my own power, my path, and my truth without ending our relationship. It was time to reclaim all that creative juice I'd abandoned and let it flow right here, right now.
The whole context of my desire for intimacy with others changed when I made this choice. I can't say exactly how. I know that I'm not feeling compelled to explore multiple relationships right now. I also know that I feel more alive, free, and myself than I ever have before. I used to view every single one of my choices through the lens of my relationship before any other consideration. Now it's the consideration of my truth, my spiritual connection, and my creativity that comes first. I've reclaimed something precious. For me, now is a time of deepening into this new experience.
It's still wonderful to become one with my beloved. But now I know that coming back to my self fully is just as blissful. Now, in each place, I have much more to give.
Abigail Leeder and David Margoliash are new residents exploring membership at Lost Valley Educational Center.
©2000* Talking Leaves
Winter 2001
Volume 10, Number 3
Relationship