I have had my share of relationships that were lonely, unfulfilling, and, at times, excruciatingly painful. Instead of facing the pain and moving on, I suffered through years of being tormented by self-doubt and self-loathing. My identity and self-worth was too reliant on the opinions of those I clung to, refusing to “let go”. Over time, the offenses, both big and small, began to stack up becoming obvious, overwhelming, and messy. The spaces in my head and heart were impacted with words, memories, and regrets of which there seemed to be no impasse. I was suffocating, drowning in a lack of love for myself. One could say, that it was in the darkest of times, where I lashed out demanding to be loved, that the seeds of self-love were planted. I knew I deserved more, still yet, I went right back to the places and people who were incapable of giving me what I longed for and needed.
I believe that for many of us, for reasons often not easily articulated and summed up, self-love is an elusive concept. Perhaps trauma in the formative years left us with a larger than normal gaping hole, a deficit of sorts. Sometimes we didn’t get a full cup of self esteem whereby parents, classmates, and friends gave steadily, filling us with a vast reservoir. It can seem instead like a barren wasteland where the sole voice shouting is your own and it reverberates into the valley. And this may be why, when we see a traveler who notices our breath, we give more weight and importance to their presence in our lives. Even if, they are only there to serve the greater purpose of a mirror. I believe that for some of us, in this lifetime, our task is to find ourselves and embrace the light within us. I spent many years searching, making the mistake that someone walking by would mirror back to me what I longed for: love, security, and worthiness.
Because, I made the costly error that someone else would “see me” into existence and worth, I stayed on in desolation and depravity. I was grieving what I had missed and longed for that wasn’t granted in my formative years. I spend years demanding more from others, but not demanding enough from myself. I spent years focused on what others felt about me instead of relying on my own sense of self worth and mastery. Trauma followed me because I chose to stay immersed in it, searching for answers, often bewildered at the lack of love from others.
It took so long to leave my lover and certain members of my family because I had to be resolved that I had not missed in some way the love I was searching for. It was as if I had a very developed and lengthy “tally” sheet where I had to “check off’ every lost attempt at connection. I went to great lengths to count and examine all my efforts, my failings, my mistakes, and misgivings. I scrutinized myself, always coming back to try in another way. It was easier for me to see my mistakes as the reason for why you did not love me or stay. Fighting often was the last resort to stay engaged and have your attention, like the child throwing a tantrum. I waited, often years, fighting to receive the bare minimum in order to relate to the ones I loved. I kept track of the times I came back and the times I miserably “failed” when I exploded in rage because messages and phone calls were often not returned. It took years of countless rejection and “conditional” love to completely fill the “tally sheet’ to where I said “enough”. I didn’t want to believe that I was not loved. I refused to face that reality. It sucked and it seemed impossible to accept.
I’m still unhappy and even broken, at times, that the love and commitment I felt towards my sister and her kids and to my ex-fiance, where not adequately reciprocated. I fought for them tirelessly for years and as the tally sheet of abandonment grew, I began to take a harder look at myself. My ineffective coping of gambling and eating, had become too destructive and damaging. Anxiety and depression reigned, and my system of tallying collapsed. I took a long look mentally at the tally sheet and what I had feared had come to fruition: They didn’t care. It was probably more like, they were incapable of caring. Still yet, the evidence was overwhelming that I had been wailing and arguing into the wind. In fact, my love was like sand in the wind, always shifting, having no place to land. I spent a few years being scattered by the wind, feeling devoid of meaning and hope. Those were the darkest days of my life. The years of being left were undeniable. I had to face the reality that there was no concrete evidence that I mattered. I was left alone, often stonewalled for months. I loathed myself further for being the weak one, always pleading for love.
Things have slowly shifted. I found the stillness that I longed for where I simply exist, cocooned in a peaceful silence. I stopped searching desperately for approval and love, and instead accepted the loss of time and relationships and I began looking forward. I still slip, at times, and am carried by the wind, but I quickly return to a new space within me where my reality is embraced. Now, I see myself as stronger. I’m no longer continually distracting myself from the pain. I look around me and I see both pain and love. I see others desperately trying to disappear into the drugs, alcohol, sex, food, and gambling. I see those choosing to suffer instead of embracing pain and sitting through it. I’m in no hurry to heal and have been purposely single for over two years. I see learning self compassion and love as my greatest endeavor and accomplishment. I’m continually getting closer to letting go of the fears that have haunted me my entire life. I am committed to myself and my journey.
I’m uncertain in the end how truly unique my journey is. I smile knowingly at the scores of individuals in my life, from: family, boyfriends, and even therapists, who often were exasperated with me. I recall one person telling me my life “looked like a train wreck”. I’m sure many healthcare professionals felt “She is never going to get past this”. I had therapists get angry and roll their eyes saying “You’ll never leave him” or “You are a mess with men”. My life was a mess and I chuckle at how desperate I used to be. My self esteem was so low, that I’d throw myself desperately at my ex so I wouldn’t have to spent the night alone. I was angry, sad, and lost. What actually helped me was acknowledging that those hurting me were also angry, sad, and lost. Some choose to keep running, I chose to stop. I am immensely proud of myself for that choice. It is not an easy one and it does not require perfection. I choose to share my life and my mess, to prove with time and acceptance, healing does happen, even in the messiest of lives. No one thought I would ever change and here I am in the midst of metamorphosis. It is a long process and I am not even sure if it truly ever ends.
Life has a way of cocooning us in darkness. But, we can discover light if we work hard enough. And like most things, the light wouldn’t be so precious if it were easy to come by.
I encourage anyone who is lost, like the shifting sands, to find the stillness, embrace the pain and learn from it. Thanks for reading!