Complexity

As I look back on my life so far, I see that I have gravitated to the complex man; very bright, talented, ambitious and somewhat demanding. The boys in my younger days were never right for me; not at all satisfying. Of course, any man, whatever his age, has his limitations and vulnerabilities. We are all human; all more than capable of making a mistake, or displaying poor judgment, from time to time. I worked for a man for several years who demonstrated extraordinary leadership and a flair for business such that he rose to occupy many high positions of leadership. The Queen presented him with an Honor. This is just not my opinion of him.

I became good friends with the man who managed the advertising account for us. He would call me first thing in the morning and ask what the day looked like. He didn't mean the schedule of the day so much as he meant the lay of the land. Was he in a good mood or was it better to wait until tomorrow, was really what he was asking. When I left, this sweet man took me out for dinner to say thank you for my friendship and with a few glasses under his belt he said of my boss, "He can be a statesman like no other man I know. Then, a minute later, he can be a petulant boy." I smiled but of course, I agreed. I had been subject to such mood swings on a daily basis.

My point is that none of us are perfect and all of us are flawed. Every man is a combination of strong and courageous, statesman and strategist and various vulnerabilities and weaknesses. It is all just a matter of degree and various combinations of personality characteristics. The woman who sees in front of her the perfect man has stars in her eyes. He may be the perfect man for her, but he is not a perfect man. I hope the dominant men out there don't think too harshly of me for saying that!

Of course, there really is no perfect woman, either. We do our best, especially women who read here, I suspect, to be sweetness and light, to be helpful and encouraging and to be the kind of women that will arouse our men. We want them to love us, to admire us, to cherish us and support us in our endeavors in life. We aim to be sweet tempered and accepting; to not complain and to be attractive to them. But, of course, we fall short at times. Lack of sleep, worry, overwork and demanding children may have us on edge at times, and time spent with us is not the Heaven that the man had anticipated on the drive home. Shit happens, as the saying goes. Even the best laid plans go awry, sometimes.

My husband is a very complex person and I think, at the end of the day, this is what attracted me to him. He was full of life and zest, had endless opinions on millions of topics, was flexible enough to go with the flow as required, but steadfast in keeping to the road he felt was right. He had flaws, still does, but I felt I was in capable hands and that my complexity might find a home in his. By that I mean, I knew enough about myself to know that I was not 'regular' or 'simple'. "She is very complex, isn't she?" more than one person has said to him over time.

I wonder today, is this what made it work for us all these years? Is the fact that he has been so prepared to accept my complexity, the many shades that make up this woman writing to you, that explains our ability to walk this life together all our adult lives? When I told him, for example, of the doll, he didn't miss a beat. "Hello, dollie ," he said. "Welcome to my bedroom." He loves me, no matter which facet of my personality shows up. Well, that is not strictly true. If the girl who tries bossing him around shows up, she's shown the door, but apart from that...

I do indeed need to be loved for all of me - for the competent adult woman, for the sexual doll, for the little girl who cuddles up on his lap on the couch and repeatedly falls asleep watching the movie, so happy is she to be in that privileged position. I am a woman, a mother, a little girl. I am in need of love, attention and warmth. I want to be made love to regularly, cuddled repeatedly and rebuked when necessary. I want to belong. Yes, I desperately want to belong and to be accepted for the complex person that I am.

Complex people are attracted to complex people, or so it seems to me. I forgive my husband his faults because he forgives me mine. It is the mature thing to do. No one of us is better than another, but the person who can love with all his heart, live and let live, accept and forgive has the head start in life. Once we acknowledge the complexity, that of ourselves and those we love, we can stop concerning ourselves of imperfections in such tall order. What connects us is that we are all human: capable of greatness and failure. Imperfection is a given.