The Jealousy Object
January was an interesting experience, as regards matters of the heart. Interesting, I say, as a way of deflecting the bad-taste-in-mouth feelings that came up. In December I found myself catching the feels for someone Iād known casually for awhile and not given that much thought to. That is not so long ago but given that I was coming out of a dry spell, anything in the range of attraction-affection felt big and intense. Iāve spent most of these weeks trying to discern what is, what Iām feeling and where this goes. It’s important for me to correctly understand what I’m feeling and act accordingly rather than vomit it out in a tantrum and hope for the world to make sense of it.
The good parts of these weeks were feeling desired and attractive. That was really, really good. Thatās possibly why it took me some time to realise they werenāt real feelings and that I had inadvertently fallen into somebody elseās game, a game that I had no part in.
Thereās no easy way to say this. Iāve written four drafts and all of them are rubbish so Iāll just say it. Thereās a guy and thereās a girl. The guy calls her a good friend. The girl calls him a variety of things, depending on who is being spoken to and whether or not he is in the room (ranging from ājaanooā to well, stories about how he farts in her face when he wakes up next to her in the morning). The guy talks about how exclusivity is a patriarchal concept, how he is the constant in the lives of his friends-with-benefits (who purportedly have partners that are not constant for them). The girl says she knows he sleeps with other people but at least he tells her about it which is better than her last guy. The guy strings her along with āLaterā, āNot nowā while heās on dates with others. The girl marks her territory by showing up at the restaurants where heās on dates.
And why this is a game is because of what happens after. Girl and guy ride off together, often with the hapless date in tow. Sometimes in place of a date, itās a damsel-in-distress to assuage the guyās saviour complex. Only said damsels are just needy enough to be allowed mild PDA but never given the status of an actual object of affection. Once the date/damsel-in-distress/Jealousy Object has been discarded or dropped off, guy and girl ride off into the moonshine theyāve built together. Happily ever after.
I realise why I was so āconfusedā as I described it all these weeks. I do not like being an object of any kind. I am not a fucking dildo for someone elseās messed up headgames. Iām not a sex toy to make somebody elseās fucked up relationship interesting. I do not like being used. I do not fight territory battles over people because people are not property. Iād like to say I donāt play games in relationships but that would be naive so Iāll just say this is not the game I play. Not the jealousy game, no.
Iāve been Sex Object a lot of times. Iāve buckled under the burdens of Affection Object (wherein man showers all his gawdawful poetry/singing and assumes his role is done with the hard work of building a relationship, managing the in-law people and the emotional labour of the relationship falls to me). And now Iām realising Iāve also occasionally been the Jealousy Object. This is the prop that (usually) men use to make the woman theyāre with, feel bad about herself so (presumably) she wonāt think to leave them.
This is the behaviour exhibited by numerous ex-boyfriends whoāve never been that nice to me but make sure to tell their current partners about how slim I am (body-shaming is the first play in the book of a Jealousy Game player). Iāve also been the āSheās more successful than youā propā and the āSo much cooler than youā thing on account of my recent stage career.
I have never liked it. Itās a horrible thing to do a person and no, it doesnāt not feel like a compliment to me. Firstly, it is not a compliment to me to be used to make another woman feel bad. Secondly, there is nothing complimentary about using me as an object to incite some feeling in a relationship with someone else. Thatās no better than a picture in Playboy that a man might use mentally to get off, were he not feeling that attracted to his partner.
Not that the girlās behaviour is anything I want to feel empathy over. The feminist in me shies away from outright shaming but honestly, settling for someone who behaves badly is just a bad idea. Whatās more, this willingness to play along and assert territoriality in desperate ways weakens things for all women. And finally and most important to me, it is directly disrespectful to me. I donāt care how badly youāve been treated before or how weak you are or how much you care about himāāānone of these will ever be good enough reason for you to use me.
Ugh, I am utterly disgusted by both peopleās behaviour, no matter how objectively I try to look at it. As some kind of poor consolation prize, I guess Iām lucky I got out with not too much harm done and at least with a post to boot.
Argh will it ever stop, this discovering of how fucky-ass fuccbois (and their complicit females) can be?
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