Entry Seven
“You don’t have to be a fire for every mountain blocking you. You could be a water and soft river your way to freedom, too.” - Nayyirah Waheed
If you haven’t noticed, I love reviving former versions of myself and viewing them from a place of love. I believe looking at your past to reconcile an experience takes guts. You can easily get consumed by humiliation and destroyed by bitterness. I don’t think it’s wrong for those things to occur, but I believe there is a more gentle way to move through it. It took time to let myself be gentle with my past behavior. Once I did, I was able to love myself again. A gift of emotional reprieve.
Today’s 90 Days of Belonging gives a glimpse into the walls I created after my first relationship, and the courage I found to begin again. I hope it reminds you that you are not your past choices. If you say yes, your former self can join you today with an improved outlook on life.
March 19th, 2022:
Tommy and I have been planning our future together unapologetically, and honestly. I sometimes wonder what dreams my parent’s (pictured above) had when they were falling in love. Did they think the sky was the limit? Were they scared? Were they hopeful? Do they even remember? It’s wild to imagine my parents feeling as much as I feel for Tommy, but for one another. It’s bizarre to know that it can all come to an end. One day you are falling madly in love, and the next you are learning to live with its absence.
I vowed after my first serious relationship that I would never let myself fall in love again. I didn’t know at the time that I was choosing to deny myself joy and celebration. Sometimes we think walls protect us, but unfortunately they keep out the good things, too. For me, I built a wall because I no longer trusted myself. I couldn’t risk making the same mistake again.
What walls have you created because you don’t trust your actions and decisions? Are you letting your past choices determine your tomorrow?
There are moments you look back on your life and just cringe. You shudder at how you let yourself do such a thing. However, when we recall these memories we are doing it from our current vantage point, and that’s not entirely fair. It’s like completing your first marathon, while shaming yourself for the time you could only run 5K.
One memory that used to make me shrink is the time my college boyfriend and I were having sex and he looked down at my stomach and said “ew, it’s like I’m having sex with a dude. You’re so muscular.” As I write this, I see her, and I will always let her know that she did not deserve that. At the time, her insecurities were louder than her true spirit.
This is one of many disgusting things I allowed him to say to me. The reason this one stung for so long is because I was always so ashamed of how muscular I looked. I never felt feminine enough because my idea of femininity was petite, incredibly lean, and most importantly, minimal muscles. His words cut deep because I didn’t think my figure was womanly enough for anyone. His words were cruel, while also mimicking my internal dialogue.
The things we do to not be alone can be outrageous. In that relationship, there were so many screeching red flags that I chose to ignore. There were enough good things to hold onto to convince myself that the other things didn’t matter. I so desperately wanted to be chosen and adored that I held onto the belief that maybe it would eventually come true. That I would be the one that someone changes for. I believe this is a common fallacy. Our inner child chasing validation from someone who is only capable of affirming our wound. I was completely lost, and hid my struggle from everyone. I was trying to find a home in a relationship that was utter confinement. I didn’t know that I was worth more. I believed I could earn my way to being adored and appreciated. Maybe if I gave just a little bit more, then he would love me.
Throughout this chapter, I forgot who I was. I didn’t belong to me anymore, and when it was over, I wasn’t sure where to return. My solution? Turn off my feelings and never look back. While in a cab, I remember proudly reciting to my friends “I’m done with feelings.” For years I lived from one extreme of codependency, and then took further drastic measures. I created a wall so tall and declared that nothing would hurt me again.
It’s a miracle that that wall came down. And as I write this in my living room with the love of my life asleep in the next room, I am forever grateful that it did.
Journal prompts:
Is there a version of yourself that still makes you wince? What do you wish to say to them? What would it look and feel like to give them grace?
How do you return to yourself after heartbreak? There is no right or wrong answer.
What is something you have overcome that you didn’t think was possible? What could you do to celebrate that today?
In the meantime, choose to be gentle with yourself.