I’ve survived a lot, built a normal life, and still feel completely disconnected from other people
I’m not really sure what I’m looking for by posting this. Maybe I just need to put the whole picture somewhere. I’ve realized recently that I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling fundamentally out of place around other people, and at this point I’m not sure whether that’s because of who I am, what I’ve been through, the choices I’ve made, or some combination of all three.
I’m in my mid-30s, physically fit, vegetarian, and I like hiking and traveling. I strongly prefer cats to dogs, and one of the things that bothers me most about humanity is how horrifically our species treats animals.
I’m gender critical and reject gender ideology. I do not believe males can be women, and I believe sex-protected spaces are vital for the safety and privacy of girls and women. As you can probably imagine, this makes me an absolute pariah where I live in Seattle.
My worldview is extremely evidence-based. I have zero supernatural beliefs. I don’t believe in God, prayer, astrology, tarot, or anything else for which I don’t see sufficient evidence, and I don’t want close personal relationships with people who do. I view that kind of thinking as fundamentally irrational. I’m also not particularly interested in politics and have never voted. I probably never will, because I think the influence of one vote is too insignificant to make the effort worthwhile.
I have pretty strict ideas about monogamy. I’m not comfortable with my partner having female “friends,” following women on social media, or watching porn. Sexual and romantic exclusivity are extremely important to me.
Socially, I’m incredibly isolated. I don’t have friends and haven’t really had friends in years. At some point I more or less stopped trying to find them. I’ve gotten very used to doing things alone, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy being lonely.
I had an extremely unusual and chaotic childhood. I was homeschooled for much of elementary school, experienced homelessness and extreme poverty with my family, suffered years of severe abuse from my parents, and eventually ended up in foster care. My parents were hardcore punk rockers and imposed that lifestyle on me as a child. They pierced my septum when I was six, for example. They pulled me out of school in first grade because they were afraid the school would discover what was happening at home. I could probably write a very thick book about all the bizarre and unacceptable things I experienced before I turned 18.
As a young woman, I was groomed by an older man who originally got me into sex work. I was with him for more than three years before realizing that he was essentially using me for my body and pursuing casual sex behind my back the entire time, while I believed we were in a monogamous relationship. He raped me and was an abhorrent person in both the way he treated me and the way he regarded women generally.
I then spent a couple of years doing sex work in my early 20s. It left me with deep psychological wounds, and it took me more than five years to feel like I had substantially recovered from that period of my life.
Despite all of that, I built a fairly normal adult life. I work, take care of myself, love my animals, travel when I can, and generally function just fine. From the outside I probably seem much more ordinary than my history would suggest.
But I’m lonely. I find it incredibly difficult to meet people I actually feel compatible with, and the older I get, the more I wonder whether I’ve made my standards so narrow that I’ve effectively guaranteed my own isolation. At the same time, I don’t know how to force myself to be close to people when I fundamentally dislike or distrust major parts of how they think.
Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if I’d had a completely ordinary childhood and ordinary early adulthood. Maybe I’d be more trusting. Maybe friendship would come naturally to me. Maybe I wouldn’t have such rigid boundaries around relationships. Maybe I’d still be exactly the same person.
I don’t really know.
I think what I’m getting off my chest is that I’ve survived a lot, built a life anyway, and yet I still feel strangely disconnected from other human beings. I’m proud that I made it this far, but I’m also tired of feeling like I’m standing outside everyone else’s world looking in.