You can't unsee that

You can't unsee things.

This is probably one of the main tenets of my life.

Say what you will. I firmly believe that our brain records every single thing that we see. There is some research that corroborates this. I'm not going to find it for you, but it's there. It's part of how dreams can be explained. All the weird shit and random people. It's not random at all. It's something or someone you saw during the day. And you don't remember. But your brain does.

It's why I hate movie previews on TV and think that horror movie previews, especially, should have a warning at the beginning. I object to being subjected, against my will and without any notice, to alarming and disgusting imagery. Because it doesn't go away. Ever.

That creepy frog suit in that Japanese movie that one time? The one where some asshole hired a prostitute and then tortured her with a hair dryer? Yeah. That's not going away. Ever.

Once upon a time I was an older sister to a brother ten years younger than I am. He was of a sensitive nature and he did not know, for a long time, the difference between what was real and what was on TV. Scary stuff was seriously scary to him. Creepy things were real. It was all real. It used to tear me up inside when other members of the family would make fun of him and completely disregard this condition. It makes sense to me now. Nothing "sensitive" was allowed in our household. He was taunted, told to get a grip or whatever. I don't remember the exact words used, but no one ever made an effort, let's say, to avoid scary, violent, or gross things so that this kid could catch a break.

My little cousins of about the same age as this brother thought that horror movies were funny. Yeah, I know. Tons of people do. Haha. Hilarious. I do not. I despise anything gratuitous and 99.9% of horror movies fall into that category. We do not need them. They open doors we do not need to open. And we cannot unsee them. At my grandparents' house, my deranged cousins (we are talking less than 10 years old here) would turn on a horror movie - my grandparents would do nothing - and my cousins would laugh while my little brother would witness in, well, horror. I would beg for them to turn it off.

Mostly, my pleas fell on deaf ears.

And they still do.

Ya'll. You can't unsee this shit. Ever.

My boyfriend watches YouTube and I told him I don't appreciate the video compilations that do not give you any indication if you are about to see something funny, weird, gross, violent, what? I asked him not to watch them around me. I don't like being surprised with something abhorrent and degenerate that I cannot unsee. I can't help this. It's the way I've always been. Keep it away from me.

Once upon a time I lived in California. A boyfriend and I went to San Francisco and walked through the Haight-Ashbury district. At that time anyway, there was a string of seedy shops selling demonic-type merchandise. You know, I can handle some of it, skulls and dragons and whatnot, but the way these items were presented, it was grungy and scary. I had to stand outside with the homeless people.

This was years ago but I've never forgotten it. I can see the store displays in my mind's eye. That night, we went to a club. It must have been close to Halloween. It was the first time I ever saw someone wearing those very realistic devil's horns. Creeped the shit out of me. As it was meant to, I get it, and in the flickering orange and black light of the club, with the music pulsing, it was very effective. I admire a realistic costume, yet at the same time I apparently have a stronger belief that costumes should look like...costumes. Not real. Maybe it's that same line that my little brother had trouble crossing. They merge together, the real and the unreal, and it's too disturbing for me. The first Halloween I spent with my second husband (yeah, just don't even try to keep up), he warped his face into a zombie costume. It was so effective, he completely transformed his appearance with just a couple of devices, and no longer looked at all like the man I'd married just a few months earlier.

It did not do wonders for our love life. Not then and not after. I couldn't get that out of my head.

Most of you think this doesn't bother you. I know. You agree or disagree that your brain records and remembers everything. You think that the violence and gore and creep factor present in our daily lives is not damaging and does not affect you in any long-term or negative way.

I think you are wrong. 

Now I do not put sex into this. Rape scenes, yes, of course. Forced sex, yes. But consensual sex, no. I'm not a prude. And I think that those parents that freaked out when their children saw two seconds of porn on a highway billboard are stupid and ridiculous. Part of the problem with this country is how we shield our children from sex but flood them with violence. How is that okay? It's sad, is what it is.

But that's leading into a whole other topic.

The message here is. Be careful what you see. You cannot unsee it. To that end, think about what it is we as a society are allowing ourselves to see, what we think it's okay to see and for our children to see. Think about the huge mental health problem we have, the kids in juvie, the people on the streets.

Connection?

Why not choose beauty?

Plato believed that humans were so pliable that we should only subject ourselves to things that encouraged us to be our best selves. He believed in censorship. I don't want anyone determining what I can or cannot see - but I do want to be able to make the choice and not have it made for me.

My little brother has led a troubled life. And I will always remember those days when I begged my family to turn off the horror movie on the TV. I don't say that I knew best. But I knew better.

You can't unsee those things. Ever.

Books ruined me for sex.

Books ruined me for sex. Books and movies. But especially books.

Jitterbug Perfume was one of the biggest culprits. If you know the book, then you know what I'm talking about. The couple discovers that the key to eternal life is frequent lovemaking. The only thing is, it's not just that it's frequent, it's GOOD. And they are in love. So just having sex all the time won't do it. It has to be mind-blowing orgasmic sex with your true love. EVERY TIME.

I'd like to know how much luck the author is having with that.

The first book that unfortunately I can't forget, and that gave me false expectations for sex forever, was Lady Chatterley's Lover. It was famously scandalous in it's time and to some people, perhaps it still is. The wanton woman having sex with the woodsman in the woods. Whatever. What stood out to me was SIMULTANEOUS ORGASM. What a crock. And that is the gift that keeps on giving. Every movie, every book, every porn - you name it - simultaneous orgasm. Cuz that happens all the time.

Not.

Don't even get me started on how "easy" FICTION make it seem like it is for people to even HAVE an orgasm - or all the LIES real people tell about how easy it is for them. But I guess there are also plenty of movies and books about women faking it - so maybe it evens out. Maybe.

But the pressure, right? That's where that comes in.

I fell in for awhile with the polyamorous crowd. Gimme a break. All that is is another - rather wily and successful - framework for men to have their cake and eat it, too. I don't know what the statistics are, but I'd be willing to bet that the number of men who consider themselves to be SUCCESSFULLY polyamorous is wildly larger than the number of women who say the same. It's just another harem. This is absolutely what I witnessed in person. I thought maybe if I could be more "free" then I would learn to "express" my sexuality and thereby gain more pleasure from sex. It might have gone that way, I suppose, if the current concept of polyamory weren't such a farce. If they didn't still have so many RULES. If everyone didn't fall into disappointingly TRADITIONAL roles. Women still fighting over men. Wringing their hands, pulling their hair, and crying over men. Women having HUGE difficulty getting more than one partner and on the contrary, settling on and doting on that one - devastated if he left - while men filled up their calendars with who gets Mondays....who gets Tuesdays...who gets Thursdays...AND NO DEVIATING!

The FOUNDER of the polyamorous movement of which I was a part is a woman with ONE PARTNER for something like FIFTEEN YEARS. But her partner has multiple women. The founder! Her man is not polyamorous, folks. He is a cad and a cheat and no matter what she says, I would be willing to bet that she is NOT okay with it. Just look at her eyes.

The more things change the more things stay the same.

But anyway, you would think "free love" might have worked. Didn't. Could've. Didn't. As, sadly, humans are not really capable of coming up with a truly new and creative system that is equal.

I'm back on my own trying to figure out how to cultivate happiness in sex and love and partnership. Not trusting any book or movie or "guru" about it. Following my own way. It's hard, right? The flush of new love wears off and where are you? Maybe you can't afford to get your nails done so your guy is less turned on than before because you are not as visually exciting. But WTF? It's not just him. I start to dial down too. Probably, deep inside, it's those old traitorous expectations kicking in, and wondering:

Why Isn't It Like That?