Yesterday’s post about emotional affairs and betrayal elicited this comment from jennyfields:
I am relating to today’s post on many complicated and vague levels. I wonder how this applies to “entertaining†fantasies that would be an emotion betrayal of yourself instead of a partner. Is it the same thing or is it different? Where is the morality when it’s only to yourself that you have made certain promises?
I know quite well what jennyfields is referring to, both because she and I have corresponded and because it’s an issue I’ve had ample opportunity to consider in my own life. I’ve written before about the issue of feminist men and the problem of heterosexual desire, and that touches a bit on the topic jennyfields raises, but not entirely. What she’s talking about is breaking unhealthy sexual patterns, and how to cope with the intrusive fantasies that often arise as we make our way in recovery.
Lots of us, for example, have a history of being attracted to people who are not good for us. Call it the “bad boy syndrome” or what-you-will, but it’s common enough to be the subject of biting humor and endless reflection. Women and men, queers and straights, a great many folks have struggled to reconcile what our head tells us is healthy with what our libido (informed as it so often is by childhood traumas of one kind or another) or our heart longs for. And a great many of us, myself very much included, developed unhealthy patterns early on in our sexual relationships. To use one classic example, a young woman who had an emotionally distant father may form destructive sexual relationships with inappropriately older men, hoping (whether she’s conscious of it or not) that she will be able to earn attention and validation through sex. Assuming her father didn’t sexualize her inappropriately, sex for her becomes the one missing element that made her invisible to the older man she needed most when she was small — and thus she pushes that sexuality front and center in her adolescence, hoping that it willl be the missing piece of the puzzle. That’s a hard habit to break. Some men may get into the “knight in shining armor” pattern in which they seek out women whom they imagine need them desperately — which often leads them to become the so-called “Nice Guys(tm)”.
I had so many unhealthy patterns that they intersected and wound ’round each other into a perverse patchwork quilt of romantic and sexual dysfunction. With an addictive personality since birth and a drinking problem (well-concealed at first) since I was fifteen, it’s no surprise that the women I was drawn to were often close to my own level of emotional stability. And though my first two wives (the ones I was married to in my using days) were very different from each other, and though some of the women I dated were remarkably stable, my “unhealthy type” was usually the same. I liked my fellow addicts, preferably with a dual diagnosis of manic depression to boot. When I was newly single after my second divorce, a clueless acquaintance, hoping to “get me back out there”, asked me what sort of women I was interested in meeting. Without skipping a beat, a cousin of mine who was part of the conversation said “Hugo likes short-haired brunettes with sex addictions, high IQs, eating disorders, and a bipolar diagnosis.”
I punched my cousin on the arm, saying, weakly, “That’s not fair.” But I was laughing at her for her spot-on analysis, and shaking my head with bemused chagrin at the truth that underlay the quip. In one sentence, my cousin had nailed “Hugo’s type.” And though not all of the women I fell in love with shared each of these features, more than one had all of them, and most had at least some of those qualities. (My wife is a brainy brunette with short hair, but that’s about it, thank God.) And once I began my spiritual and psychological recovery in earnest after getting sober in 1998, I made an effort to unlearn this pattern of falling for self-destructive women with wildly swinging moods and raging addictions. I did my work to identify my own “rescuer” pattern, as well as my own habit of seeking out women who used sex as I did — to process through anger and rage and hurt, and to soothe an unquiet and restless mind. And after a period of celibacy, one of the most rewarding times of my life, I started dating again, looking for different sorts of women.
Let there be no mistake: I did struggle a lot in those early years of recovery. I had to learn to be attracted to what was healthy rather than what was toxic. Based on what I’d known before, some of my early relationships with “healthy” women seemed, well, boring — at least on a sexual level. Like a bipolar person whose medication takes away the terrible lows but also the exhilarating highs, I missed the “rush” of intense connection I got with someone new whose need was as desperate as mine and whose cutting verbal dexterity matched my own. And more than once, while in a relationship, I found myself attracted to the sort of women I had been drawn to in the past. And I found myself troubled by intrusive thoughts about these women, even as I worked so hard on whatever current relationship I was in.
I learned that this was a normal part of growth. While fantasies can seem very real, and emotional affairs (as I wrote yesterday) are genuinely destructive, it’s also important that we be easy on ourselves as we grow and learn. Feelings are not facts, as we say in Twelve Step programs. Progress, not perfection. And so I unlearned my flirting skills, slowly and clumsily. I learned how to close doors to rooms I ought not enter. Initially, I tended to slam the door and run away, so panicked was I of relapse into a destructive, secretive, addictive relationship. As time passed and my recovery deepened, I got better at closing the door softly and politely. I learned that when I didn’t send out subliminal signals, others tended not to send theirs my way. The women who once saw me as a kindred spirit now tended to see me as a vanilla square — which was a blow to my old self-concept, but a necessary one. I reinvented myself slowly.
There’s an old saying in recovery: “You can’t think yourself into right action, you can only act yourself into right thinking.” That is especially true for those of us who come out of destructive sexual backgrounds. I learned how to be faithful even in the presence of overwhelming temptation. And I learned that if I just controlled my actions, then it would become easier — slowly — to control my words and my eyes. And if I controlled my words and my eyes, it would become easier — slowly — to redirect my thoughts away from people and situations that would prove colossally destructive. There was always a significant lag time, however, in which I felt panicky and frustrated. For a long time, I worried that I had given up an intensely exciting lifestyle that was killing me for a stultifyingly dull one that threatened to kill me with boredom. But I trusted, somehow, that I would find new and different kinds of excitement. I trusted that I could find excitement in the arms of a woman who wanted to live, who had no discernible addictions, who had no history of wild acting out. And lo and behold, it all came to pass.
Bottom line: on the road to recovery, we who have been, in Kay Redfield Jamison’s memorable phrase, “touched by fire” can learn to live without those highs we once knew. We can learn to love ourselves, and — and in some ways this is the greatest surprise — we can learn to long for with our bodies what our minds know is good for us. That’s grace if grace ever was. But grace, like peace, comes dropping slow. Remaining patient and persistent is hard. Relapses, either physical or mental, will happen. But relapse too is part of recovery, as I was taught a long time ago. Two steps forward, one step back, we change our lives, our hearts, and the deepest and most intense longings of our flesh.
Hugo,
A very interesting post on your getting your libido together so that it matches a non-self-destructive life. Most of us have to unlearn bad habits at some time or other. In your case, it had to be done on a grand scale.
Most people have the opposite problem that you did, though. For them it’s a question, not of re-directing their “id”, but finding out what turns them on in the first place. Many people don’t know because they’re afraid to explore, or if they know what turns them on they’re ashamed of it. For them, the path to growth is the path to self-acceptance, not (as in your case) self-modification. It involves finding out what turns you on, acknowledging it, and embracing it as part of your true honest self. For most people this can be done quite easily in the context of a responsible life in which no one is disrespected.
I don’t want to hijack your post. I know you’re talking about self-destructive sexuality and your message is only for those who suffer from it. But . . . can this be incorporated into a Christian view of morality without falling into the old trap of traditional Christian teaching — “sex is dirty, with only certain exceptions”?
Thank you for this post.
I do believe it’s going to help me, a lot!
Thank you. This is what I need to hear…and keep hearing…and keep hearing…
Hugo,
Thanks as well, but more for the link to your older post and particularly the one by Kiki you linked to in it. The best feminist essay on male desire I have ever read – whish I had read that about ten years ago
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I’m not telling you who I am, Prof. Schwyzer, and am using a friend’s computer so that you won’t be able to check the IP address. (If you were to try.)
You already have a healthy ego, I’m sure, especially as the “hottest professor” in America according to that infamous website. But I have to tell you, as your recent former student, I really struggled with a sexual obsession with you. I don’t think you could guess, as I was never one of those dippy girls who sat in the front and made eyes at you. And to be honest, I didn’t like thinking about you sexually. You’re married, and when I was 17, I made the mistake of having an affair with an older (29) married man. Yes, I was a minor but I pursued him. I was that stereotypical “homewrecker”. When people found out, which many did, I was called that and worse.
The problem is that I have had a pattern of going for older married men since I was 12 or 13. I was a virgin before Mark, my 29 year old, but had these madly sexual crushes on older men (teachers, my Dad’s friends, etc. etc.) from the time I was in seventh grade. And yes, they were sexual. I do know that many student crushes on teachers are about the desire to emulate rather than the desire for sex, but for me at least the sexual fantasy has always been explit and intense.
When Mark and I broke up and his marriage ended all at the same time, I swore I would not only never sleep with a married man again, I would stop fantasizing about any man who was unavailable. And I have never been with another man who had a girlfriend or a wife, and I am justly proud of myself for that. But that said, I still struggle with the fantasies. How ironic that you would write this post, giving me permission to keep on struggling when you yourself have been the target of some very intense fantasies. I am not your student this semester, which makes it easier, as I am very much an “out of sight/out of mind” girl.
But the guilt I felt about the thoughts I had had was intense. All the more so when I found out that last semester while I was in your class and thinking about what it would be like to be with you, your wife had been pregnant with your baby girl! Somehow the fact that you’re a father now makes it even worse, and as a result, am happy not to be in your class this semester. But this post made me feel better about the progrss I am making, so thanks for this!
Most people have the opposite problem that you did, though.
Actually, I think it’s six of one, half a dozen of the other. Some people are too sexually careless, reckless, or drawn to things hurtful to themselves or others, some are too repressed, and some manage to err in both directions at the same time, being too repressed about things that needn’t have bothered them, and missing the things they actually should be worrying about. I don’t think either Hugo’s problem or the opposite is exactly rare.
Hey hugo, thanks for this, and the Kiki link. VERY interesting.
I have always excercised self control over my desire – I only let it out when it is safe and appropriate to do so!!! how boring eh… and I down play it, especially in male company. As a woman I am afraid of appearing too sexual – too into sex, although good grief my body has screamed just f**ck it at me since my teen years in almost every situation imaginable. That’s not a male thing. I down play because I feel instinctively that if the extent of my sexuality was apparent, either in my words or body language, I would be raped, or judged, because many men see women as the gate keepers and the fear is that some men will barge through if they see there is no padlock (sorry for the daft metaphor). Also, the desire I feel is, in almost 99.9% of cases, not something I would actually want to act on for a myriad of reasons, and expressing it through body language would cause me other – if much less serious – problems. My posting name is anonymous because I want to be able to talk about such things, but would feel unable to if I were identifiable, a way of making my desires invisible – but visible at the same time.
Anon, you sound a lot like me. When I had something posted on an academic blog about student crushes recently, I wondered “is Dr. H****x reading this? Or Dr. L****n? I would be so embarrassed if they knew, even though I know that I did nothing wrong.
Hugo is so public. I live on the opposite side of the country from him, never met him or heard of him outside this blog, but have ended up seeking him out as a kind of mentor based on some themes that really resonated with me here. Profs are set up to be the objects of crushes because they’re figures of authority in the lives of so many young people, often in a vulnerable state of transition. Hugo, with this blog and the extraordinary openness of his life journey, is in an even more conspicuous position! From what I know, the way he lives his life encourages emotional openness from others. I’ve said before, after spilling my guts about something in the comments section, that his being so open made me want to be open, too.
I began a relationship with a good-as-married man when I was 17, too. He was 33 and had been in a relationship with a woman for over ten years before that. I felt so guilty for breaking them up, home wrecker and all that, nightmares, but I have a somewhat different view of the situation now which has brought me a great deal of peace.
Consent can be a fuzzy issue when it comes to people around this age, but I believe that with such a large age gap the larger burden of responsibility falls on the older, more experienced partner. You may have pursued him, but he had a lot more sex and relationship experience. He was in a better position to know better, so to speak. I felt like my ex used his identification with and enjoyment of my youth to justify his selfish and callous actions. It sounds like you got out of it and learned form it, took to heart the destructive potential of such relationships, which is more than a lot of people can say for their follies. If you can let go of some of that guilt and see the dynamic of the relationship in context, I think you’ll learn even more. I know I did, and Hugo’s blog helped me do that.
Also, you say that the desire for older men wasn’t just a desire to be them, but was really, genuinely sexual. I got crushes on teachers and later profs, and I know part of that was always wanting to be them, but for me it was more than that too. The explicit sexual aspect was confusing. Just because something is expressed as sexual desire doesn’t mean that it doesn’t come from some deeper emotional yearning that may not even be sexual in nature. Our sexual impulses often say something deeper about our psychological make up (and scars) than just who we want to exchange fluids with. In fact, with me, who I want sexually really doesn’t line up with who I want in a real relationship yet, so some other desire is being expressed there. All I’m suggesting is to dig deeper and try to find what needs does your mind imagines will be fulfilled by these objects of desire.
Finally, don’t feel so bad about the baby. Most of the profs I’ve crushed on have been married w/ children. I remember having a dream that one prof I had a crush on was married to another prof from another class and that he was cheating on her with me. It was bizarre. Sometimes we crush on people who are unavailable on purpose because it puts up a safety barrier between you and that person. Hugo is right, fantasies aren’t reality and we are not perfect, so we need to be okay with not being further along yet. Instead of feeling guilty, take that impulse by the tail so that you know where you are in your healing journey and make it clue you in on where you need to go. Acknowledging weakness without judgment can help people keep from fooling themselves and risking situations that they aren’t ready for yet. Affirming progress is important too because it fends off discouragement.
I’m sorry if I’m assuming wrong, but you sound about my age (I’m 21). I think people our age can expect too much too soon, like we have to be perfect now or we never will be. We have our whole lives to better ourselves, that’s what being young is about! Just, the younger you are the harder it seems to have perspective.
Well, that was helpful to me. I hope it was helpful to you.
I miss group therapy…
I just had a thought… I think a lot of people see the thirties as when you better yourself. Like you screw everything up in your twenties and then spend your thirties cleaning up the mess. Blarg!
I am 20, but will be 21 in three weeks, jenny!
I absolutely agree with you (and with Hugo, who has made this point in his posts on older/younger relationships, all of which I’ve read) that the older man does bear the majority of the responsibility when the woman is under age. On the other side, I did pursue Mark, but he ought to have been strong enough to resist me, both for the sake of his wife and for the fact that I was legally underage.
Jenny, I also agree with this: “In fact, with me, who I want sexually really doesn’t line up with who I want in a real relationship yet, so some other desire is being expressed there. All I’m suggesting is to dig deeper and try to find what needs does your mind imagines will be fulfilled by these objects of desire.”
I don’t really want to be in a relationship with a man Prof. Schwyzer’s age. My sexual desires and fantasies are for him and older men like him, but when I think it through, I can’t imagine actually being in a relationship with someone like him. He is so thrilled to be a father, and I think that’s wonderful, but the thought of even being with a man who would want me to have a baby is totally horrifying. I might change my mind, but for now I cannot imagine wanting children.
I love your point about our age and not needing to be perfect. Thank you.
Also, I think I won’t comment here about this under this name again. Reading over what I wrote it sounds awkward, especially if Mrs. Schwyzer is reading this. I am sorry if I made this an uncomfortable thing for you or your readers professor, I was just so surprised and fascinated by this post which seemed to summarize my story.
No worries, Anon — I appreciate your candor, and understand very well what you’re talking about here. And jennyfields, thank you for engaging and for inspiring this post.
Hugo likes short-haired brunettes with sex addictions, high IQs, eating disorders, and a bipolar diagnosis.â€
As I recall, the one you were most enmeshed with was a redhead.
I made exceptions, Mary Mary.