I am not broken. I’m not trying to be fully fixed either, but I am continuing the search, asking the questions, following the feel that goes deep inside to places I would rather not look.
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Have you ever felt the universe giving you a gentle, guiding shove towards a deeper understanding of yourself?
It happened to me this week, an otherwise unremarkable 7 day passing, except that it did mark both of my wedding anniversaries. I’d certainly noticed the dates but I wasn’t caused to think deeply about their impact until today (the anniversary of my first marriage) when I found the paper with my second husband’s handwritten vows on it.
I knew what the paper was before I opened it. It had that feel that comes from the passage of time, softened almost to seem like fabric and a little torn around the edges. I remember finding and stashing it in my old wallet because it was too precious to just be left lying around. I didn’t want to read it, but I did. It wasn’t nearly as painful as I imagined that it would be.
He’s a talented songwriter and they were beautiful words. At the time he said them, they made me beam from the inside out. He spoke his truth as he knew it back then and I felt it on the day when it mattered. Does the fact that the marriage ended make those memories any less joyful?
Both relationships with my ex-husbands have resolved into their most benevolent outcomes, but when a marriage is over, there’s an undeniably painful juxtaposition between celebrating the times that were had, and knowing that they carry with them a sharp wealth of potential sadness.
I know that my work going forward is to come to terms (on an embodied level) with the past and to simultaneously ease up on the way that I’ve been impaling myself with regret.
We brand ourselves with the shame of what we allow to happen to our lives, to our bodies and our souls. We attempt to bury the brands under temporary topicals in the form of substances and people that we believe can quash the uncomfortable sensations. When the placation falls short of healing, we seek to repeat the experience of pain.
I now believe that when we are drawn into any new relationship born of need, we fail at being honest with ourselves.
Sure, the stereotype of women being clingy in times of distress is a fairly justifiable one, but I’ve also found the same to be true for men.
People get stuck in relationships well past their sell-by-date. We stay, out of fear, hugged up against the rocks as the wind and waves batter us senseless.
It’s changing, thankfully, but a good part of the cultural conditioning surrounding women of my age states that we should be able to “magic” ourselves into perfect relationships.
In order to contrive beautiful Facebook pictures (our modern day daguerreotype), to model ourselves into perfect people, we must pretend to everyone outside the relationship dynamic that we have it all under control.
We pretend to the men in our lives who are often pretending right back at us. So many people around us are repeating the pattern that we find it hard to notice that the picture was never ours to begin with.
To be in one’s thirties and without a man is supposed to be Bridget Jones incarnate. I say instead that my choice is made from a place of love, that I know how simple it would be to get washed away by the potent tide of neurochemical ecstasy that is the start of a new relationship.
I’m choosing to make a stand during this portion of my life. To look internally rather than externally for safety. I am no modern day siren and I won’t be responsible for any more wrecks.
I’ve been told (in all kind sincerity) that I’ll meet someone else who will make me think about marriage again. How to say “I’m not interested in that” and come off as anything other than jaded has been a sometimes frustrating and fruitless exercise.
I will never say never to long-term monogamy, but I will say that right now, I see no valid reason to indulge in the fantasy that being fully coupled up would change a thing about how I view myself and my growing connection to this world. It would be supremely selfish to allow anyone to believe that I might be looking to partner with them forever when I don’t know that I’ll ever dance that particular dance again.
These past 18 months have been the most telling, the most heart-shattering, melting, restorative days of my life. The universe has steered me through the more treacherous storms and back to calmer waters.
I mention a few of my feelings here and here, and after telling those particular stories, my flesh has formed anew around the burn that was their gift. I can feel the circle of closure, but I can also feel how fragile that new skin is, how easy it is to deliberately scrape up against with sharp memories.
During the last year and a half, have I been tempted into feeling sorry for myself? Absolutely. In those moments, when everyone else seems unrealistically happy in their perfect love, I have sometimes felt uncontrollably cold and cynical and unnoticed. So why would I offer those parts of myself to another relationship? I wouldn’t. Not anymore. I have instead been filling my days with new and delicious experiences and I have found and stoked internal embers I thought were long burned out.
I am not broken. I’m not trying to be fully fixed either, but I am continuing the search, asking the questions, following the feel that goes deep inside to places I would rather not look.
I can’t and won’t let anyone else inadvertently stumble into uncharted, emotion-wrought terrain.
I don’t want to leave my heart undiscovered. I’d rather unwrap it myself and let it breathe unencumbered by the restraints of unnecessary guilt and the sorrow I still need to let go of. By the time I’ve found the last remnant of regret, I hope to be whole again. Not perfect, just complete enough to be able to shine a light and confident enough to navigate the pitch-black of potential yet unknown.
What has the universe lit up for you lately?
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Photo: Getty Images
This is the best thing I’ve ever read on this site. You’re so right. Getting into a relationship before you really know your own truth and your own true self, while tempting, is often a recipe for disaster. There is no one who can fix you. Maybe, you don’t need fixing. Maybe you just need love. And the best person to give you that love is yourself.
I thank you so much for that beautiful compliment. I think we struggle for far too long trying to do or be something that we are not happy with on a soul level. That disconnect creates far too much tension and insidious need for control. I think it’s the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done, to step back and realize how my actions had been creating my woes. I hope you’ve found similar peace?