I’ve been having vivid dreams. The other night, I was reminded what it felt like to love someone who was no longer loving me. It was just a dream, but the heaviness in my chest felt real. The structure of the dream was a reminder of my past, of how I loved hard and held on harder — and did it all to my detriment.
But at the end of the dream, I was standing on the shoreline deciding to love myself better than I ever had before. I could love, and I could still leave. I could choose myself when the one I’d chosen was no longer choosing me.
As in reality, the decision alleviated some of the pain I was experiencing. Yes, it would be hard to go. Yet, it would be even harder to stay.
I loved hard and held on harder — and did it all to my detriment.
The truth of those unrequited, imbalanced relationships is this: We love them, so we do everything in our power to make them happy. We try to love them well. We think carefully about what we say and do. Our first thought is for the protection and care of their hearts.
But while we’re thinking of them, who is thinking of us?
My self-abandonment is something I’ve had to learn to forgive myself for over the years. I understand how it developed. I have compassion for my younger self who thought love had to be earned and that self-sacrifice was a path to earning it. Now, I understand that I had then and still have a responsibility for nurturing and protecting my own heart — not guarding it from love but rather guarding it from people who cannot or will not love it well.
When I was stuck in those relationships, kept there by love and loyalty, I would spend so much time rationalizing their behavior that I would ignore and invalidate my own feelings about it. I had all the empathy in the world for them — and very little for me. I was hurting, but I wasn’t asking myself why they weren’t concerned with the state of my heart. I was far too busy focusing on theirs.
I had all the empathy in the world for them — and very little for me.
We deserve love like ours.
Sometimes, people fall out of love with us — or were never in love in the first place. When that happens, at the very least, we should have our own love. But often, we’re so used to an insufficient, half-hearted kind of love that we tell ourselves it’s okay. We’re strong enough to weather the hard times, but we don’t ask ourselves if the hard times will ever end. We live in hope, and we tell ourselves it’s enough.
But healthy partners don’t just leave us in our suffering. They don’t just withdraw effort and expect us to manage the full weight of the relationship. They keep trying. We live in hope, but we’re not alone in it.
We don’t ask ourselves if the hard times will ever end. We live in hope, and we tell ourselves it’s enough.
I had to learn to tune into my body and mind.
Instead of dissociating from myself and centering the other person in my thoughts, I’ve learned to pay attention to my own experience of a relationship. How I’m feeling and why matters. Trauma therapy has helped me develop awareness around my triggers and sensitivities, but it’s also helped me pinpoint when something in a relationship just isn’t right for me.
That heaviness in my chest was a constant reminder that I was in a relationship that was no longer healthy. The fact that I was experiencing far more anxiety than joy and couldn’t even get a base level of reassurance from my then-partner was a sign that it wasn’t the right fit. Even at the start of dating, I’ve learned to pay attention to my intuition in a way I never really did before. I’m honoring how I feel because I know it’s better to be alone and happy than partnered and miserable.
It was my responsibility to acknowledge that it wasn’t working out.
All the relationships where I was pulling the weight and making the effort — I was responsible. I could stay or leave, and I chose to stay. Of course, relationships are complex — as are our reasons for staying. I know that, just as I know I did the best I could at that time in my life. But I also accept responsibility for my choices and am committed to making healthier ones.
The dream was a reminder. I lived, I loved, I hurt, I learned, and I know I will choose better for myself. I know that I deserve love and that healthy love is reciprocated.
I don’t protect other people’s hearts at the expense of my own. It was a costly lesson — one I can no longer afford. Instead, I acknowledge what it is I need. I’m open about who I am and what I want. Instead of settling for what is being offered, I hold out for what I’m looking for because I know that it matters. This time, I matter, too.
I woke up from that dream with clarity and gratitude. It may have taken me a long time to learn my lesson, but I have learned it. I’ve learned to say a firm “no, thank you” any time the love that is offered isn’t what I actually need. I feel confident that I can walk away when the heart I’m busy protecting is no longer protecting mine.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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From The Good Men Project on Medium
What Does Being in Love and Loving Someone Really Mean? | My 9-Year-Old Accidentally Explained Why His Mom Divorced Me | The One Thing Men Want More Than Sex | The Internal Struggle Men Battle in Silence |
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