When my soon-to-be-ex and I were in the throws of marriage counseling, individual counseling and I was very much having an active awakening, we would watch movies together almost every night.
Naturally, I picked movies that resonated with me. Things about spiritual awakenings, women overcoming their preconceived limitations and feeling good about themselves, men finding platonic love and kindness…
You know, that dirty feminazi crap.
He would seem totally bored out of his fucking mind while we were watching these movies. One of these films was My Octopus Teacher.
I was absolutely bawling at the end. Not only because of the death of the octopus, but of the man’s spiritual journey. It’s about love, it’s about being curious, it’s about letting go of your rigid thoughts and following your heart openly.
So, I’m crying and I look over at my ex and he’s glaring at me. Absolutely glaring at me. No other emotion other than peak animosity at me for crying. This coming from the man who wanted to go into cinematography. This coming from the man who just spent 2 weeks in Antarctica taking pictures of penguins. Why the fuck was he so angry at me for being moved by this film?
Control and shame. He didn’t have access to emotional depth, richness. He couldn’t see beauty in a relationship with an octopus. A man having this existential experience was a THREAT to my ex. A man with deep, moving feelings AND he put it together in a film?! What an asshole! So, there was also jealousy there, too. My ex couldn’t rub two emotional brain cells together to produce any smoke, and meanwhile this little Octopus movie was a smoldering, hot fire. It was so unfortunate that he couldn’t just chill the fuck out and absorb the emotions of the movie. He had to feel sorry for himself, be angry about it and then sit in his victimhood. What a wet blanket.
The other movie we watched, not as cinematic, but it moved me due to the place I was at… Brittany Runs a Marathon. A movie about a fat woman trying to reclaim her life and her body by training for a marathon. The spirit of the film really resonated with me. I was also a fat, sad, depressed, bordering-on-alcoholic woman who wished for something to set me straight. I was also running a lot and losing weight and changing my life. So, there were a handful of scenes that subtly pulled on my emotional strings because I could relate to them so deeply. The small wins, personal goals, pushing hard when people told you that you weren’t worth it. Setting any goal when people tell you that you can’t do it. Things like that.
Again, I bawled at the end. Again, he fucking glared at me.
This one is more obvious… a woman reclaiming herself ONLY for herself and not listening to naysayers. Having an awakening, pushing toxic people and things out of her life? I can see how that was very threatening to him. But seriously… how shallow, dude.
All of this said, it dawned on me…
If he would have had just a little bit of curiosity. If he would have wanted to know more about why I was moved, or more about the movies or more about the human emotions oozing out of said movies. Any curiosity AT ALL.. I would have welcomed that and very much appreciated him softening enough to be open to discuss it. I would have taken an open curious view as him changing, awakening, moving in the right direction. But, no. Nope.
Curiosity in a man is SO sexy and underrated. And it’s subtle, but I’m SO going to look for this in the world now.
Even if you are uncomfortable, even if you think emotions are dumb, even if you feel fucking naked and vulnerable… be curious. Open your mind. Experience life in different ways.
It also made me realize that I’d never really seen a soft side to my ex. He’d never opened up about anything. I didn’t really know him that well. I was sad about that, but also horrified that I married him not knowing him that well.
It also made his line “I’m going to go out there and find true love! My soulmate!” kind of ironic because how can you meet someone to love the depths of your soul when you never share your soul?
