Today I learned about myself that I feel most comfortable with partners who are disgusted by me, to a certain extent.
My pedophile dad
Projected his self-disgust
Onto me.
My dad
Did some disgusting things.
I internalized a sense of “I am disgusting.” I scapegoated myself…
To protect him, to keep him whole.
I couldn’t help loving him,
Because he was my dad.
I *had* to love him… biologically.
So,
I love people who are disgusted by me. Because that’s what “makes sense” to the part of me that feels/receives love.
And?
I wish my dad weren’t like that. I wish I could have my dad but he be a different person.
And that’s what I feel about partners. I wish I could have [X] but they be a different person. And my fantasy is that they change *because of me*. Because I’m kind and patient and present and they don’t have to be scared/angry/sad anymore—the world is safe because I’ll always be there for them.
The fantasy is that my dad would have changed because he realized I was worth changing for.
But he didn’t.
And the partners (up to now) won’t change either. Because changing would alter the dynamic of desire that brought us together.
So that’s my realization. No solution.