My aunt from Montpellier died last night. Without her, I would never have visited this tapestry exhibition on November 27th, 1974, and Christian and I would never have met.
After our first meeting on November 27th, our relationship developed pretty quickly. After a few more chance meetings, we were together for good.
What attracted me to him was his obvious self-confidence; the impression he gave of inner satisfaction. I was very insecure myself. I didn’t think I could ever be loved. My self-esteem was pretty low.
Strangely enough, I can see now, looking back, that he was sending me clues that he was emotionally unavailable, just like my father who had been so preoccupied by his job, and my mother who didn’t want me to pity myself.
As Harville Hendrix, Ph. D. puts it in his book Getting the Love You Want, Christian’s emotional distance triggered my primary drive, “which was to make a person who was distant and unavailable become close and dependable.” Meeting Christian “crystallized all of my childhood unfinished business.”
This didn’t make our relationship any easier, of course. Christian and his brothers were a kind of clan. They would make plans to live together, have a farm, leave France, etc. They didn’t like the French, and I was French. I didn’t belong. I felt left out whenever they talked about Morocco and their friends. I was discovering an entirely new world! I had the impression also, that women were, for them, only accessories to be used for fun and pleasure. What I couldn’t realize at that time is that they were uprooted, they had no place they could call home anymore. They were grieving for their mother, the one who held the family together, and this was their way to make up for all they had lost.
Christian would often tell me that I shouldn’t get too attached to him because he liked to change. For him, at this time, sex was just a casual way of getting to know someone, not a big deal! He had told me about his previous girlfriend, and I thought that I was just a replacement for the one he couldn’t have. Since he couldn’t share his feelings, I didn’t know that he didn’t really love her. For me, since she was from Morocco, she belonged where I didn’t, and I thought he would never love me as much as he’d loved her. This idea got a grip within me and it stuck to me for years.
When we meet someone, we do not realize that this person has been wounded and suffers. We only see things from our limited selfish perspective.
I was desperate to become close to him, I wanted so badly for him to open up to me, to love me! I had an insatiable need for closeness, craving physical affection and reassurance! I’m sure I was very clingy.
Each time I tried to start a conversation, he would either grumble, “don’t bug me!” or crack a joke and it was over.
We were so different! He was more the kind that kept people at a distance in his desire to have the freedom to come and go as he pleased, not wanting to be pinned down to a single relationship. At the same time, he was fun, smart, resourceful, carefree, and attentive! With him, nothing seemed serious, and I envied his detachment and freedom.
The pain in our relationship was sometimes intense for me, but even so, he attracted me so strongly!
Isn’t it funny how God writes with our crooked lines?
