A Question of Character: Part II

This issue of character is still bubbling away for me, and especially the issue of what positive qualities might constitute character. One of these qualities, I believe, is integrity. I like this link on integrity because it connects the idea to being a whole and complete person, as well as to honesty and to adherence to a particular moral code.

Now, as you know, I find honesty a somewhat mixed blessing around here. In my view, honesty should be tempered with tact and kindness. I also don't find trying to fit myself into abstract moral rules all that helpful.

So I like this idea about integrity being a whole and complete person, and I think it is about following our own moral code, rather than somebody else's. Because I think that, in some ways, integrity is not so much about honesty in the sense of telling the absolute and brutal truth on every occasion, as it is about authenticity. It involves telling the truth, living the truth, about the most important things. To me, an Emily who is a person of integrity might tell the occasional fib, especially to avoid causing needless pain, but she would not live a lie.

And teasing out exactly what character and integrity are in my current situation is becoming important to me. Some people, for instance, would consider that being a person of character in a relationship with illnesses and sex problems would be about turning myself into a kind of saint, a martyr, and especially one who wordlessly pretends that she has no sexual needs. Being Nice about it. Being heroic. "A better person", they would say, "would just accept that the sex is over and get on with the nursing".

Oh, but I have been down that path before, and I know where it leads. Now that I look back on it, that whole path, however well meaning I was when I trod it, lacked integrity. And it took me to places that were even worse.

Smiled sweetly and pretended everything was fine with our sex life, because I was a Nice Girl who found the whole subject embarrassing? Check.

Made half-hearted attempts to fix things while wallowing in resentment? Check.

Lived an increasingly surface life with the Big Dude, privately retreating into a kind of wounded sulk until we lost that emotional connection that brought us together in the first place? Check.

Retreated into fantasies about having chosen a totally different kind of man and actively planned my escape from my responsibilities? Check.

Had casual sex with someone else and lied about it, feeling justified by the deprivation at home and the Big Dude's lack of effort and refusal to go into sex therapy or counselling? Check.

Run off into a much more promiscuous lifestyle that, however fun it was at times, tended to bring out the worst in both me and my temporary sexual partners? Check.

And where did these things take me? They took me nowhere, that’s where. Ultimately, they led me to... nothingness.

And on reflection, I think that this was because all these responses came from failing to realize that I had to be a whole and complete person - a person who both enjoys and needs sex, and who also wants love and commitment with one particular man who simply can't meet those sexual needs most of the time. The only way to be true to myself was to learn to live with that conundrum, instead of trying to cut through it by denying one side or the other.

In fact integrity, for me, is more about living with contradictions, with how messy life really is, than about trying to make my life conform to some particular moral code or pursuing extremes of sainthood or promiscuity. It is about trying to find a golden middle way. Its just a pity that I am so crap at moderation. So this kind of integrity, for me, takes a kind of self-discipline that I have to work at. I am naturally much better at extremes, but I have to learn to pick out that middle path and stick with it.

And it also requires courage. It requires admitting that our sexual problems are not a temporary crisis that may dramatically improve at any moment. They are almost certainly permanent, in some form. I am going to be living with them for a long time.

And it does require authenticity - maintaining a steadfast honesty in expressing my needs, refusing to be ashamed of them, while trying not to guilt trip a person who feels very differently.

It takes saying to myself:

This is my life. I will face it with my eyes open. I will not lie to myself or to the Big Dude about how I feel in this situation. I will not pretend to be Nicer than I am. But I will temper my honesty with kindness and respect. I will not "supplement" with some other person who I can't tell the Big Dude about. I will not run away. And I will keep trying.

Integrity sux.