Dangerous Compassions

untrustworthy avoidant dudes who kick me

Hello, reader.  How are you doing today?  I was thinking how I get attached to untrustworthy avoidant dudes who kick me.  Some harder than others.  It has to do with power.

There are many ways to conceptualize this problem.  How I tell the story to myself and frame the harm, influences what I do to try dodging the harm.  Those “never will I do this again!” moments are intense!

But I’m a big-hearted lover.  Of course–if my whole deal is care, I attract people who want that care.  And some of them are going to do it in an unbalanced way, then blame me for that.


I told my housemate about this problem.

“I have room in my life for one fucked relationship,” I explained.  “Just one!  It could be worse.  But I’d like to destroy that receptor.”

My housemate sympathized.

I imagine the receptor inside me, in some unfathomable inner world place.  Sad little light blue receptor, like a wart, with a sadface.

Sorry I want to destroy you, receptor.  Admit it–you’ve done me no good.


It’s easier for me to hate myself than to hate another person, or take on a culture that enables abusive people.  These untrustworthy avoidant dudes who kick me do a lot of harm.

I call myself stupid because that’s an easy response.  Much harder to feel it all, make real changes, say no, push back, set boundaries, and stick with them.  Much harder to change culture and heal deep wounds that keep us from the truth.

I do feel a lot, mostly in the early morning.  When I get up to pee, then try to sleep another hour, sometimes I can sleep.  Sometimes I cry instead.

When do you feel your feelings?  At night or in the early morning when it’s still dark outside, I feel my feelings more.  Ready or not, here they come.


Our new housemate has a cat.  I really like this cat.  But I had the feeling I couldn’t take another being in my life.  To love, cherish, adore, care for, and have my fate linked with another being’s fate totally overwhelmed me.

I was freaking out to Ming.  It was early morning before breakfast.  I’d started the amaranth in the slow cooker, but it was not yet cooked, in a bowl for my mouth and tummy and cells.

“I can’t have another fucked up person in my life who just takes.  I can’t do it anymore.  A cat is just a fucked up person who takes.  I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t do it anymore,” I freaked out to Ming.

Ming was listening to me, holding my hand, looking at me.

“I’m scared I don’t have anything,” I said.  “I don’t have you.  I don’t have family.”

The early morning light shined on his face so pretty.

“You have me,” Ming said.

“I don’t have anything,” I said.

“You have me,” Ming said.

I tried to believe him.

A cat will need things, hurt me, and die.  It’s a lot to feel.  People also need things, hurt me, and die.  I’m tired of it, to say the least.

what’s true

What’s true is Ming is an amazing family member.  I have blueberries.  The amaranth was delicious.  My aunt made this beautiful bowl and gave it to me.  I’m ok right now.


I hope you are also ok right now, dear reader.  I pray to Mother God that I can comprehend what I have.

“Thank you for all of our resources,” is a common sentence in my prayers, toward the beginning or toward the end.  I feel the vastness of the world, all the beaches of the world with their pretty broken shells and many colors of rocks.

Yes, we have so much.  Big hearts, big minds, a car that works, community, elders who love us, young people who love us.  Indoor home, garden space, birds that visit–so many gifts.

More untrustworthy avoidant dudes who kick me might have their day.  But for now I am safe typing and looking out the window.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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