What do you do in a situation where your love of another is infringing on your love of self?

Very recently, I found myself in the difficult position of fighting what became one last fight for someone/something that truly meant the world to me, but to whom it seemed I no longer meant very much at all.  Like so many nights before this one, I had found myself, belly-up,  pouring my heart out and turning out my lamp with with tears in my eyes. On that particular evening, I was lucky enough to actually get some sleep, but the experience was a bittersweet one as REM brought a bit of S.O.S when I found myself dreaming a dream that, in my waking hours, I had finally started to accept would not come true.

The next day, I awoke prepared to push through the groggy and heartbroken  state that had greeted me in the hundred or so mornings that preceded the one in question, only I didn’t feel it all.  In fact, I felt rested and calm, as though I had a sense of clarity. It was a welcomed change, however foreign, and it took me a few minutes of looking around in “is this really happening?” wonder for me to accept that, yes, this was really happening.

I pulled out a pen and paper and  asked myself five questions:

How many times have you found yourself at the mercy of someone or something; a thought, a fear, a regret?  

How many times have you missed out on the chance to be your best self and live your best life because you were on-your-knees?

The answer to these questions didn’t need to be written down.  Too many.

What was this really about?  Him or some kind of repetition compulsion issue?

Why was I fighting alone to fix something I had plenty of help destroying?

And finally, What had I learned not to do again?

To say this situation brought me to my knees would be an understatement. Unfortunately, the only time one should be on their knees is to beg, and one should never be forced to beg for anything.  Asking, while standing tall, eye-to-eye should be enough for those around you, and certainly for yourself.  When you are on-your-knees, you are without dignity and perspective. Without these things, one cannot see things clearly. One takes what one is given, however small. One cannot protect themselves.  When you are on your knees,  You cannot walk, and if you cannot walk, you cannot move towards  reconciliation, success, or anything, really.

I have always carried with me a lot of dreams. Many of these dreams have come true and many others that have been placed on hold while I spent too much energy trying to changing things I could not change and have no business changing, even if I could. I nearly gasped when I thought about how lucky I had been to be where I was being that I had spent so much time (and too many prayers) on people and things that were not only not working for, but against me.

I thought about my life.  It was so much bigger than what anyone thought of me, and certainly far more valuable than wasting while trying to blow off the salt someone else through on a now dissolving ideal.

The night before was like so many nights before it. I had shared my deepest, truest feelings without the slightest bad intention.  But unlike so many times before this one, I could not be shamed by the hours of silence or the loud boom of rejection that came through an empty phone or a bed. Somehow, I was pleased that I knew how to love, to forgive, to feel, to articulate and to allow my courage to guide me in putting myself out there, skin inside out.

I was pleased that I understood that love was precious, even if one holds onto and goes about expressing it a bit too long. There was something else in there, too. For the first time in a long time (ever) I knew that I was as precious as the other, and of love itself.  I knew that I was as deserving of love and forgiveness and kindness as the one I loved enough to kindly forgive. This made all of the difference.  Being a good and kind and loving person meant that I needed to be these things to myself. After all, the definitions of dismissive, cruel and cold do not change if they are self-inflicted.

Somehow the love that had me gripping and aching inspired me to let go, entirely, with peace.

Was this wisdom? Self-worth? Understanding? Maybe a little of everything. Surely, it was a sign that it was time.  Time to move on. Away from purgatory, away from anxiety, away from the phone and love that could not reach him.   I made this decision in spite of my feelings, in spite of my habits, in spite of and yet for myself.

Now, usually I have a trial and error will I ever get it right? Period of knee-skinning, but the universe gave me a bonus check to cash almost instantly.  Not only did I feel the closure I craved, but also a peace that had eluded me, well, my entire life up until this moment. I felt free.  I felt strong.  I felt like I was headed towards the greatest chapter of my life thus far. I felt the old Bia Esmer.

Change your outlook, change your life indeed… ♥