Communication and respect

I demand a lot.

I provide a lot.

I am an excellent communicator, generally. This blog is some fucking excellent communication, I trust you agree.

I am respectful, always, in my communication. I say “please” and “thank you.” I try hard to imagine the impact of my words on those with whom I communicate, and to modulate my speech, to choose my words, to choose my actions, in a way that is, always, informed by how what I do, what I say, will be received, how it will affect my audience. To the greatest extent possible.

My CPOS days came to a close when a woman I’ve come to think of as Poison didn’t show up for a date we had made. Poison’s disregard for me, my reaction to her disregard, made me see clearly how deeply fucked I was. I reacted as if I was, once again, being abandoned by my mother. Never mind that Poison was a woman I had met once or twice previously, and barely knew.

I’ve struggled with all this for years. Rejection is hard for me. Abandonment is harder. And. But.

When I inconvenience someone, I apologize for that, and I try to make them whole. ALWAYS. I proceed from the presumption that, whatever inconvenience I imagine, there’s a better-than-even chance the inconvenience I’m causing is worse than that. Worse practically. Worse psychically.

This works well for me.

If I cancel an appointment with a massage therapist, a trainer, a therapist? I pay for the session. If I make a decision that has a negative impact on another human, I try to protect them from that impact, and, if I can’t protect them, I try to make it up. When someone’s paying me and I cancel, I bend over backwards to be sure they feel they didn’t lose out. (And, I should say, I rarely fucking do that. I’ll endure a lot before I cancel on you.)

I’ve come to understand this is a distinguishing characteristic. But the folks I do best with think similarly.

Postscript, after my second scotch, with Radio Paradise (which I fucking love) blasting in the background:

This is the raw version of what I wrote above: I treat you as I wish to be treated. Kindly. Respectfully. Honestly. When you do otherwise? Once upon a time, I would devote myself to trying to get you to do as I would do. To elicit respect from you, communication from you, consideration from you.

I’m older now.

Nowadays, I understand: people tell me who they are quickly, efficiently.

That’s not to say I don’t, occasionally, hold out hope for change.

I long for Emma to show me as she eats a banana, as she’s promised, but failed to deliver.

I long for Jude to undress for me, to dress for me, as she’s promised, but failed to deliver.

Both of them have demonstrated to me precisely how (un)reliable they are. They are extremely reliable around… that which produces revenue for them. Less so about that which I’ve divorced from our economic relationship. That’s fine. It’s their prerogative. And I won’t punish them. But neither will I expect change. What I expect from each of them is limited. And that’s fine.

I won’t speak ill of anyone. But. If you screw me (not in the “allow my cock to enter your cunt” sense, but in the “inconvenience me” sense), you should a) acknowledge that you’re doing it, and b) offer to make me more than whole.

I ask nothing of you I don’t offer.

One comment

  1. Do not be sad. All people, all have their own problems. I listened to the radio. which you love. This is a really very good radio. When I listened to a song Big Log by Robert Plant and it was great.

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