That was the title of one of my favourite books in my mothers collection of.. ‘Romance’ novels which were really porn, in written form. I’ve forgotten most of the story, not that I actually read it in its entirety; only the salacious bits, and I haven’t read 50 shades which would be the most modern interpretation and the most well known of the mommy porn genre, so I can’t tell you how it compares. Both these books, from what I remember about the former and what I’ve been told about the latter featured some seriously non-conventional sexual habits. In Sacrifice it was a fucked up girl who enjoyed being hurt during sex and who ended up in a semi relationship with a ‘huge’ man who had to be handcuffed during sex lest he kill the women he sleeps with, whilst in 50 shades, there’s lots of chains and whips and that terrible sounding epistle of the tampon removal… Since when is that sexy?
Sacrifice had it all; good looking people doing bad things to each other, check; semi incestuous relationship between closeted gay man and his mother, double check; sex scenes in all their wordy descriptive glory, triple check. No wonder I was so fascinated by that book… It was probably the dirtiest most descriptive book of erotic fiction I’d read, although the comparison would be Jilly Cooper’s books which were relatively tame and had lengthy descriptions of men’s thighs. Which yes I also found infinitely sexy.. But I lie, the most stimulating book I ever read was a compilation of erotic stories which I browsed through in an airport in Brisbane. Were I not with my parents and 14, I would have bought that book. Note: this was all pre-broadband so yes, we did have to resort to other media for our stimulators purposes. Dial up Internet did not make for very good porn viewing..
Sacrifice as a term; that’s what I meant to write about; it was meant to start of with the salacious memory of the book of the same name and segue into the sacrifices in life I have made or my parents have made to get me where I am. Obviously that got slightly derailed by the charming aside about erotic literature… But here goes, when I think about sacrifice; I can clearly see that I have not made all that many sacrifices in my life. I have never had to make tough choices between alternative options; where the choice of either one would greatly impact my life.
Sure, I did make the choice as to what to pursue in university; that was a choice but there was no sacrifice required in that choice. For whatever it was I chose to pursue, I would have ended up hating and being dissatisfied. Because I am a grass is always greener when the side isn’t my own kind of person, never able to be satisfied with what I have and always wanting more.
When I made the choice to lose my virginity, I again didn’t sacrifice a lot. It was a choice in which the end outcome would always have been a loss of something, but a gain in knowledge. And so whilst my virginity was sacrificed to a man who wasn’t in the least bit appropriate to take it, it didn’t turn out to be that major of a sacrifice since I did gain some knowledge and experience. I know that there are some amongst you who will argue that the sacrifice here was not worth it and that it would have been better to wait for the right guy, for the right time when I wasn’t so lukewarm about it, when my virginity didn’t feel like a millstone around my neck. But the sacrifice of waiting could have meant that I might never have lost my virginity, and really what is that worth anyway in these days? When and if I marry, my partner is not going to insist on me being ‘pure’ because odds are he isn’t going to be either since as gay men, we have reputations to uphold….
When I think about sacrifice; I have to think about my parents, who undoubtedly sacrificed a large part of their happiness and comfort to ensure that I ended up where I am. Which is to say, highly educated in a foreign country where my rights are not trampled upon. I am where I am today solely by my parents sacrifice and not by my own steam. Which is of course why I always feel so goddammned inadequate. I never had to struggle or sacrifice and so I feel like I never achieved anything of note…
Which I guess has cast a long shadow over my life. The problem being, when you feel as though you haven’t achieved anything, then being with men who are high powered and successful gives you an inferiority complex. And that carries over into a relationship. Because when you feel like you have nothing to offer, you are more than likely to be happy to take whatever shit gets thrown at you. Basically, you end up being a doormat. And that’s the role you’ll play in every single relationship to come because you do not feel like you are worth more…
That is in itself a sacrifice of sorts; a sacrifice of self all in order to not be alone. But that is a sacrifice that is not worth it. A relationship is not worth salvaging ones self worth over. And in the long run, one cannot sustain being a doormat and besides, a relationship that unbalanced is doomed to fail.
Sacrifice; it’s a loaded term. Some people think they make sacrifices but really, they are just concessions. A sacrifice usually requires the giving up, not of a luxury, but of a basic human need. Time, perhaps; love, maybe. I don’t think I could ever be capable of making what could constitute a sacrifice…
The Gay Dilettante 