With Porn Week on mute as I listen to a new fan’s band, I begin to question my priorities.
I have planned to go to a depression support group tomorrow night; another avenue, I thought, problem solved sooner. I also planned, in my forgetfulness, to see a friend at the same time, and then when I remembered, told her I couldn’t. I can’t help feeling I’m missing the point somewhat by putting a frightening circle of strangers before a comfy night in with some French films. Perhaps this is one lifeline I can leave on hold for now.
I think I am coming close to seeing my share of naughty things, and possibly then my nervous curiosity to be educated will be satisfied. I never had a crazy phase; no wild one-night stands, no orgies in church pews, no holy popcorn boxes in the back row. Perhaps consequently, I have always been a bit curious. I don’t like porn, I just have to watch things. I need to read about it, need to hear stories about red-light experiences from real people, even though they depress me in an underhand way that hurts without justification and leaves me wholly fragile, I have to do it to myself. It’s like a hankering for knowledge that I don’t really want, and can’t learn that fact. Maybe I do know that, but won’t accept it yet, because I just don’t want to be that naive. I feel like a lot of things are a competition in my life – if I value someone, I have to find out everything about their favourite band, buy a T-shirt, and choreograph a dance to the hit single before I see them next. If they can cook, I need to read up on allergies and preferences and seasoning suggestions, so I feel in the know. It’s my nature. I hate it, I do things I don’t enjoy at all, I convince myself I like things because certain people have recommended them, and I go off things I’ve loved for years because someone makes a flippant derogatory comment about them. Exhibit A: Old boyfriend said “Women aren’t funny.” Of course, I know this is not true, even I make people laugh. But in my head, the statement rings out like gospel. It is physically impossible for me to classify women as funny, especially over men. They will never win. This person is long gone from my life, and stopped being important years ago. Sadly, the damage is still done, I have learned a new prejudice.
Hi, my name is Darcy, and I am over porn.