You incomplete me

This culturally ubiquitous phrase zoomed into our consciousness on a comet made of twee pretensiousness and self-righteous sentimentality. I strive not to be that person. Being associated with Tom Cruise doesn't help much either, these days.

And yet. I am an incurable romantic. That might seem odd, considering my choice of lifestyle and my kinks. But really, my bondage and captivity fetish is deeply romantic at its core. It traces its roots to fairy tales and "damsel in distress" cultural tropes. I just have no interest in being rescued from the predicament. I want the villain.

As a kid, I was entranced by the prospect of romantic love and longed for it, while simultaneously believing that it would elude me. I suppose this is a fairly typical response to the lack of a father that I experienced. The absence of male attention, according to the experts, makes a young girl feel rejected. Such girls not infrequently seek out relationships with men early and often, and are vulnerable to abusers, unwanted pregnancy and STI's.

On the Savage Lovecast, I heard from a young woman who said that growing up overweight informed her rape fantasies, because she thought that was the only way she'd ever have sex. I think that was part of my thought process, too, although I remember having fantasies not so much about rape per se but about being held captive and finding that erotic.

So for whatever reason, I wanted a romantic relationship. I'd had crushes going back to kindegarten and could only imagine the joy if any of them had been fulfilled. I struck out into the world of young love and got my heart broken and chased plenty of false leads and dead ends. And discovered that my capacity for affection is a blessing. I recognize the folly of pinning one's whole life on a relationship, in the manner of the gothic romances of the Brontes all the way up to the poor, disappointed housewives of the 50s. No, it's not the only thing worth having in life. And I'm sure I'd fall far short of the romantic ideal of pining away and dying for one's love. I'm just not that emo. But being in love is fantastic, and I'll brook no disagreements.

I'm just not sure about this "completion" thing. I feel pretty complete without a relationship. I've gone for pretty good stretches being content to seek out sex, companionship and any other needs without getting emotionally involved, because the right person wasn't around. I'd much rather say that my lover enhances me. He makes me better and finer than I was before. He makes me want to achieve more, pursue a more interesting and fulfilling life. He makes me want to strive. He makes me see possibilities for myself that I might not have believed before, things I'd like to experience in my lifetime. In that sense, it's the opposite of being completed. Being completed not only implies that the person without a partner is incomplete, it implies that once found, that's all one ever need accomplish. How dreary! Love should open us up to new worlds, not put the period on the end of the sentence.

I don't want to be completed. In fact, I'd rather say that he incompletes me.