In Defense of Libertinism
Out of all my sensible friends, Charlien and Francheska would be the most tolerable to waste the evenings with. When sober, they enjoy giving practical advice to impractical people like me. I’d share stories about my life adventures and my brief yet exciting affairs with strange men. Often, they don’t understand the rationality behind my preference for atypical men.
Francheska once told me, “Maybe you choose these men because, just like them, you have trouble with commitments. Anytime, you can freely walk away from your relationship with them without feeling a trace of guilt knowing that they’re just like you.”
Surprisingly, she’s not wrong. Though, I don’t think I have a problem with committing per se. It’s the thought of limiting this love to just one person for the rest of my life that bothers me.
Le pays de l'oiseau bleu, 1916 by Bertha Boynton
I just don’t understand the thrill behind commitments. I don’t understand why people celebrate anniversaries or why people don’t get tired of monogamous relationships. I don’t understand why people find celibacy sweet and infidelity unforgivable. Why is it that this act of human symbiosis, in the long run, seem so desperate and incarcerating? Why is it that we suddenly have this automatic authority over how our partners should live or make choices? How does exclusivity in love or relationships make us freer individuals? Why are we so frantically inclined towards believing that our partners can complete us?
To some extent, our partners does mirror either the most insecure parts of us that need healing or the missing pieces of us that can somehow be made whole together with them. Of course, I hate romanticizing this idea. I dislike the thought that I am incomplete on my own. That type of thinking breeds all sorts of unhealthy parasitic bonds. The worst is when we start expecting something from someone. We expect him (or her) to be kind or understanding or patient or all those other crap. When they’re not given to us, we’d throw tantrums and outbursts that mimic our very troubled, unconfident, and lonely selves. We’d confide our pains to friends and listen only to the false comforting advice they repeatedly say: “You deserve better.” But what is better? In truth, you deserved what you asked for.
Am I a cynic when it comes to love? A little. But what can I do? I am a complex being who does not want to be fixed nor pinioned. I would rather love multiple individuals that reflect different parts of me rather than limit and burden one heroic monster who dares to recapitulate all my oddities. The unfortunate price I had to pay for freedom and independence was to sometimes forego long lasting relationships. The more self-sufficient I felt, the more I craved for novelty and less for dependency.
Bijou des profondeurs, 1916 by Bertha Boynton Lum
Loving diverse individuals feel very liberating and soothing to my unquenchable appetite for life. And I am appalled by those who resisted chances to love diversely and profusely and who only took chances on loving their ideals -- their “soulmates” whom they so sickly longed for. More than pleasure and sex, they missed out on the exchange of assorted ideas, beliefs, experiences, stories, emotions, and frustrations that cannot simply be obtained from one person alone. Mostly, they incapacitated and withheld themselves from experiencing the great plasticity and flexibility of the human soul. I guarantee, to love diversely means to give yourself more opportunities to meet and to learn from different artists, musicians, scientists, engineers, poets, writers, philosophers, and other interesting individuals that enable the widening of one’s viewpoint of life and of being human.
Genuinely, I’d love to spend one more night talking with these incredible individuals again. Misunderstood and rejected, but craved by most, they remain to be my Byronic heroes. And I remain their Byronic heroine; constantly brooding about life and death.
Go spread your wings and be free, my beautiful demons. When these mortals begin to corrupt you and greedily want to own you, resist. Resist and persist. But please, be gentle and love them. Show them that it takes true love to understand individuality and freedom. You are the very amalgamation of humanity. When you grow weary and lonely, try a little harder, love a little louder.