Robot or Real

     The subject of my blog is this, what does a man prefer, a robot or a real woman. Some time ago there was a movie made, Cherry 2000. In the movie this man has a robot, she was a hot looking babe who says, "Yes dear." and has loads of hot sex with him. She is vacuous and empty, nothing behind that head of hers. But he is happy cause he is getting it on, yeah man. Are men really that shallow?
     As the movie progresses the male protagonist and his hot robot babe are having sex on the kitchen floor, when oh, oh, the dishwasher floods and shorts the robot babe out. Oh no, whatever will he do?
     I will tell you, he goes on a quest to get replacement parts for his hot robot babe.On his sci-fi wilderness quest he meets a real woman. Yup, she is feisty, she has a brain, and she can think. Suddenly the vacuous empty headed robot babe does not look so attractive to him anymore. He likes real.
     Women have a lot of perceptions, due to culture, as to what a man really likes, i.e. big breasts., etc. They go to all lengths to achieve this, including getting breast implants. And I suppose there are some shallow men who do go for this. But I have found, upon research, that men really do not like fake. It makes me wonder about our cultural misconceptions. Women have to be gorgeous, men have to be strong, all the time, no crying.
     But in any relationship, man or woman, they should be able to be real, be who they are and be accepted. That is what real freedom is, to be real.
     The Velveteen Rabbit is one of my favorite children's stories. My favorite part of the book is the conversation between the skin horse and the rabbit. What does it mean to be real? The whole concept of real is love. The rabbit is loved so much by the little boy that he becomes all loose in the joints, from being held so much. In the end the rabbit is no longer with the boy. Real love allows freedom, allows the loved one to go, does not seek to hold on. But the love that the rabbit received will always be with him for that love made him real. I always inserted something into that story, something that is not even in the book. You see the rabbit is worn from being loved. he has become all loose in the joints and wobbly. I always thought the book said, you will always be beautiful to the one who made you real. But the book does not, in fact, say that at all.
     What makes anyone real? Love, true love, true love is willing to let go. Because real love is not about us, it is about caring about the one we love. I choose to be real.

“Once you are real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
    

   

The Trip

    
     She stepped off the plane, the trip had been long, 22 hours total, 17 hours of flying and a 5 hour layover. She was scared, she was meeting him, in person, for the first time. She came out of the airport and he was standing there. A shock went through her body, the person she had seen on cam, had chatted with for months, stood there in front of her. She liked what she saw, because what she saw was the man she is in love with, never was, could never be was, she knew she would always love him. She loved every single thing about him, it was more than the outside, although that was good too. It was everything he is inside. Every time they chatted, that he shared what was inside of him, in those moments, she felt like she had a treasure she was unwrapping, and it was beautiful.
     She felt awkward, she needed a shower. Her first words were, "You don't have to like me." He said, "I love you, Pussycat." Her heart soared. When the taxi came and he sat right next to her in the back seat, she thought, this is a good sign, I stink and he is still sitting next to me.
     As soon as they got where they were going she took a shower. He went out and brought back chicken fried rice. They ate together. Afterwards he held her hand in his hand and marveled over them. Taking out his phone he took a picture of their hands together.  Face to face he commented, "You have blue eyes." Hadn't he seen them in her pictures? on the cam? this was a surprise?
     Everything about being near him pleased her. She would just look at his face, trying to drink it all in, this miracle of being near him. She filled her eyes up with the sight of him. She loved his outward appearance because she loved his inner being. She wanted to remember everything about him, store it away in her heart and mind.
     He had planned 2 trips for them, one to a botanical garden he knew she wanted to go to and one to an animal sanctuary. They were wonderful, but what made them special was having him next to her. Her most favorite day of all was the day they spent at his place, doing the laundry. He had a small portable washer and washed her clothes in it. She hung them out on the balcony railing, and loved every second of it. She cooked for him that day, he took pictures of the food, which to some might seem silly, but it pleased her to no end.
     Every second of that week was the best week of her life. It wasn't even where she was, although she loved this place. What made it special was his presence. She will be forever grateful in her heart that she was able to meet him. Forever grateful in her heart that she was able to experience what the true meaning of being in love, and what being loved means. She knows in her heart there will never be another for her, only him.

When

     I can't remember when, but at some point in my life I decided I was worth less, not worthless, but worth less. I can remember when I reached my teen years I looked at myself in the mirror and decided I was ugly. I never gave it much thought before then, I was too busy building a treehouse, climbing trees and playing in the woods.
     I have heard it said you get involved with someone who reinforces your belief about yourself. It turned out to be true in my case. I should have known from the beginning. Not too long after he and I got involved he got drunk. I did not want to ride in the car, with him behind the wheel. I walked away, he chased me and kicked me. I ended up getting in that car.
     It was intermittent then, the abuse. He could be nice to me. As the time wore on though he got crazier and crazier. Accused me of things I did not do, like moving the mirror on his truck. When I digressed and said I had not done it, he sawed the window handle off, so I could not roll down the window.
     I felt like I was walking on egg shells. I could not do anything right. If he was not feeling well and I asked him if he was o.k. he would scream at me, if he was not feeling well and I did not ask if he was o.k., he would scream at me that I did not care about him.
     Most times the abuse was mental, but sometimes it became physical, like when he choked me. Knocked me down and choked me. The only thing that saved me was someone intervened. Why I had stayed so long I have no idea.
     One day the proverbial straw that snapped the camel's back happened.  He was screaming at me as always. I had taken a few dollars out of his wallet for some eggs and milk, that was my crime. I retreated into the bedroom and lay on the bed, crying all day. I knew in my heart is was over and I had to get out.
     The break came not long after that. I had found a place to move to, but it would not be ready for a month. One day I came home and he was not there. He came home shortly after I did, at first he was nice to me. Then he called me a whore and offered me twenty dollars to have sex with him. I said, no. He came in the room and ripped his penis out of his pants and thrust it in my face. I was so scared that he was going to rape me that when the opportunity came and there was an opening, I jumped up, grabbed my shoes and keys and ran for the door. I got to my car and got away. I was driving around, crying, and I drove  my parent's grave and sat on it. I knew when I got up I was going to the police and report the assault. 
      It was the hardest thing I have ever done. Was I sad? Sure I was.I had days I did not want to wake up. My identity had become so intertwined with his I felt lost in the world, floating in space.
     I read The Analogy of the Cave by Plato. For the first time I began to understand. I was the one chained in the cave, with only shadows of light. I had closed my eyes to the abuse to deal with it.  I came to realize for the first time in my life there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I had loved him, but I was never in love with him.
     Today I am in a better place. I go to college, I go to the gym, I write, I work, I live. I finally realized I have to be the one who values myself. Sometimes it is still hard because I hear those old records playing in my head, but I am not listening anymore. I do have value, whether anyone else believes it or not, I believe it. I no longer live in that cave, chained up, I am free.

Love Is Strong In Weakness

     I was thinking today, we hear so much in this country about how we will be winners and make this country great again. I think people overlook what makes greatness.
     I began to think about weakness. It is prized in most societies when men are strong, but what happens when a man cannot be strong. I saw just such a thing happen with my own father.
     He had a stroke 6 years before he died. My father had always been a hard worker and suddenly he was relegated to a wheelchair. It was most difficult for him. He had moments that were not happy.
     Then I thought about my mother. She became his caretaker. The husband she had always known that could work could no longer work. My mother would get him out of bed in the morning and help him get into his wheelchair. When she drove somewhere she would help him out to the truck. She faithfully tended him, without complaint.
    My mother showed me what love meant, real love. There can be a lot of  talk in this world about winning and being strong and great, but greatness is found in the weak things of this world. That is where real strength lies. It is in kindness and compassion and care.
     No one person can make a country great, but rather all the people that live in that country that allow their hearts to be ruled by love. By caring for one another, the strength of love is found in weakness.