Musings of a Commitment Phobe

I was reading Overwhelmed naija babe’s blog and her story just touched something in me. Inspired me to write a poem but also brought back memories of past relationships.

Seeing as I decided to start writing prose again (plus the fact that there’s nothing really going on in my life right now) I’m going to tell you about my issues with commitment.

First hint of my possible phobia of commitment came when I broke up with a guy cos he said he was in love with me. Tade and I went to secondary school together but our story really starts during my a-levels (mainly because I thought he was a prat in school). We have mutual friends and we met up again once I started my A-levels. He’s a really sweet guy and he made the moves so we started going out. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the full details of that time because it was all so long ago and soo much more happened after that. I do remember however that it was fun – he was a little immature but that was to be expected at the time. I went to boarding school in Wales so it was long distance but we used to talk on the phone, until he said “I think I’m falling in love with you”.

I remember feeling very annoyed – I mean at his age, what did he know about love? (He’s a year or two older than me – and I was 17/18 at the time?) Plus he hardly knew me – we’d been “going out” for about 6mths? (A lot of that long distance might add!) Needless to say, I thought it was all very silly and trite. This was the first instance of my running away from something serious. Tade and I went on to have a much more convoluted history later on but that can come later.

Another prime example of my phobic ways was Tandy whom I treated disgracefully. After a lot of hemming and ha-ing, I said yes to going out with him but because I started to run scared and was a little insecure about where the relationship was going, I started dating his brother’s friend at the same time (I obviously wanted to get caught). Hey I was young! And ofcourse being me, it all came out one faithful evening when they both came round to the flat. (See Confrontation and Dinner Party)

Disclaimer:- Anything links to archived articles from 2005 were written in 2003 whilst I had this mad dream to write a book. It was also written about a time when I was very young so I apologise for the tone and style – which has changed a lot since then.

Then there was Kane. He was my longest on-ff relationship (3/4 years) and the one that let me work out most of my issues regarding relationships. I came to the realisation that I always felt the need to control my relationships and determine where they were going. If I didn’t feel like I was in control, I would make stupid manipulative ploys which often backfired, or I’d walk away. (But as Lloyd Banks said – “every time we separate, somebody's marching back” )

To date, I don’t think I can say I’ve ever had a truly serious committed relationship – I definitely have not referred to anyone as my boyfriend – and this has been since I started showing an interest in guys – so basically about 15years. I have “had something(s)” with guys or for a better word – flings but nothing serious.

My adult relationships haven’t fared much better – I tended to go for people who don’t touch me emotionally. My closest form of commitment was with a guy I met on the last day of my holiday who lived in the states. As my friend said, if I had to commit to someone, it had to be someone who I wasn’t forced to see everyday or have to deal with. Even then, I couldn’t see that it would go anywhere (long distance is such a bitch) so I ended it.

There was also ofcourse Sadeeq – and my much documented saga with him – who was the typical emotionally unavailable guy whom I kept throwing myself at.

At some point in time, I had an epiphany and realised I had a pattern with relationships – they never went anywhere; I never really gave them or myself a chance. I therefore decided to just do me for a while. I wouldn’t have meaningless sex with anyone anymore. (Please note, I always choose my words carefully). Meaningless sex for me is the kind you have when you are not emotionally tied to the person. Doesn’t matter what kind of relationship it is or how long you’ve been together. (It is slightly different from casual sex which can be with anybody, at anytime). Meaningless sex kinda leaves me feeling empty at the end. I always end up wanting to be alone or needing my own space – I’d happily kick the guy out or leave.

Anyways, I have now decided that I will not sleep with anyone until I genuinely care about them. This means I haven’t had sex in a LOOOOOONG time. I slipped once with someone I started dating but it only served to remind me why I chose to refrain in the first place. My abstinence has led to my friends thinking I’m anti-men and constantly teasing me about it. They sometimes make me feel I’ve turned into the sad loser friend who will be the casing point to their younger siblings or children – “better settle down with a guy quickly before you end up like Noni”

Anyways, I think I shall sign off on this note. Still feels a little weird reverting to prose and trying to write stuff that happens daily/regularly. With the poetry it’s different – I get flashes of inspiration or something/someone else comes through and takes over. It’s late and I ramble. Good night folks.