The Love I Believe In

I've always sort of loved Valentine's Day. Sure, it's corny and commercialized and various other things that people hate on it for, but giving/receiving gifts is far and away my top love language, and I love any excuse to celebrate things. Plus, I am of the opinion that love deserves it's own holiday. Historically (more specifically, in the context of my marriage), I was made to feel dumb for getting excited about it, which often resulted in a certain degree of shame. Currently, I'm in the business of reclaiming the parts of me that I allowed to shrink and that began to suffocate as a result. That said, I'd like to make it clear that I like corny/commercialized holidays, i.e. Valentine's Day and also that I'm not sorry about it.

That I'm reclaiming the part of me that loves Valentine's Day probably sounds relatively insignificant, but it represents something so much bigger. I made myself so small for so long. I'm rediscovering the parts of myself that shame taught me to hide and shrink and edit. I'm rediscovering them and learning to love them. Reclaiming these things like this feels being able to breathe deeply for the first time in a long time. It feels like coming back to life.

This time last year, I was in a very different place than I am today; separated, halfway through a months long communication hiatus, constantly in or on the verge of tears, still trying to piece myself back together enough to make a decision about the fate of my marriage. My sweet family rallied around me with distraction and preventative measures in the form of gifts and breakfast dates and expensive steak dinners and bottles of wine. This year, surprisingly, I'm somewhat unfazed. I'm not sad, exactly, and I don't have the urge to destroy the Valentine's displays when I go to Target.

This feels like a pretty big victory to me.

For the longest time, I felt caught between a rock and a hard place; stuck between believing that big love exists and also feeling so bitter that it was stolen from me. Discouraged to think that maybe I never even had it in the first place. I've seen love twisted and distorted until it's completely unrecognizable. I was deceived and betrayed and lied to, supposedly because of "love." I'm still dealing with bitterness and disappointment at the unfairness of it all.

Over the last year and a half, though, I have been shown love that is bigger and deeper and more real than I've ever experienced in my life. If I'm honest, my family and handful of close friends are the main reason I believe in love at all anymore.

But I do believe in love.

I believe in love as a force. I believe in love that serves and heals and believes for good things. Love that unites the masses.

I believe in a love that is blind.

I believe in love as a decision. Love that resolves to sacrifice and negotiate and compromise.

I believe in hard love. I believe in love that exists even and especially where feelings are fleeting. I believe in love that stays. Love that fights. Love that keeps promises no matter what. Love that stands in the gap.

Do I believe in fairy tale love? Sure. A version of it, anyway. But most of the time I only believe in that love for other people. (For now).

It occurred to me recently that I don't really think of myself in terms of a relationship status. Saying that I'm single feels weird, even though it's true. Saying I'm divorced feels worse, even though that's also true. I guess I don't feel the need to assign myself a category. I'm just here; which honestly, I'm so completely okay with. I'm not anti-men or anti-dating by any means, and I'm also not pining for love. For now, I'm content, and ready for whatever comes next. Honestly, I'm surprised by how true that is.

It feels like hallowed ground.

A Letter to the Loved Ones

I need you to know that this is a thing that happens. I can’t predict when, as much as I wish I could; the timing is often just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. It might be prompted by something someone did or said, whether it was directed at me or not. It might be the stress of an event or deadline that is rapidly (or sometimes, not so rapidly) approaching. It might be, and often is, triggered by a simple thought; a “what if?” that came from no where in particular.

I need you to know that it gets away from me. It’s something I’m familiar with, but that I’ll never get used to. A minute ago nothing was wrong, but now my mind is racing and my chest feels tight and it’s getting harder to breathe. I’m having to focus hard on this to try not to make it obvious, the breathing. But that almost always makes it worse.

There’s something else I need you to know: it’s just as much physical as it is mental. It’s my fight or flight response completely out of context. I get that it catches you off guard. I’m so sorry for that. But I need you to know that a lot of the time it catches me off guard, too. Once it starts, I can't stop it. I can't redirect and I can't focus on anything else. It swallows me whole. 

It's completely terrifying.

I need you to know that I can't always explain it. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that not all feelings have words.

I need you to know that I’m working on it. I hate it even more than you do. Even when I feel okay, part of me is wondering when it will rear its ugly head again. I feel like a ticking time bomb. I’m afraid of how it makes me feel and act, and I worry it will make us fight. I know how confusing and frustrating it can be for you.

I need you to know that this is a thing that happens, and that it’s not your fault. I understand that you’re not sure what to do with it. Neither am I. But I need you to know that it’s not your fault, and that it’s not your responsibility to fix. All I need is for you to hold my hand and tell me something true and understand that this is a thing that happens. 

I need you to know that sometimes I have panic attacks, and I need you to know that I'm doing the best I can.

(2015)

Empathy Part II

Over the past six months, I've had this shift in perspective. Walking through something so painful and so seemingly impossible has made me extremely aware of the fact that every single person I encounter is dealing with pain to some degree. Maybe it's simply having to experience this great pain, or maybe it's the handful of people who have shown me such great empathy, but these are things that I have become almost constantly aware of lately and are becoming important parts of how I love people.

1.) Say what you see. This one is so simple but has been so huge for me. A genuine, heartfelt compliment can really go a long way, especially when someone is having a bad day. If you notice someone looking especially nice that day, tell them. Noticing things like that and keeping them to ourselves doesn't serve anyone. There is absolutely no sense in having a kind thought and letting it suffocate. Release it and let its magic surprise you! Draw attention to the good things. Sometimes acknowledging the seemingly small things is enough to draw attention away from the bad ones, if even for a little bit.

2.) Tell people when they're doing a good job. This seems like an obvious thing, but I really don't think we do it enough. I'm someone who tends to get stuck in my head a lot. Having my efforts acknowledged in a positive way, even if they're an expected part of the job I do every day, is huge for me. Being told, "good job" feels a little like being told, "hey, I see you," and being seen is one of the best feelings.

2.5.) Tell other people when someone is doing a good job. Manage people up!

3.) Acknowledge the hard things. It's okay to acknowledge that what someone's dealing with is hard. Personally, it's one of the very few things I never mind hearing, because it's always true. Hearing someone say something like, "I'm so sorry this is so hard" is unbelievably validating. When someone's doing something hard, acknowledge it and remind them how great they are for doing it. This type of validation should always be paralleled by encouragement.

4.) Say true things. This one isn't just about not lying. Be intentional about honoring what's true. Speak truth and speak life.

People are fragile, but we are also resilient. I'm finding strength I never dreamed I was capable of. I'm currently learning so much about who I am, what's important to me, and what I need, and I'm beginning to see how these things impact my relationships and interactions with other people. My heightened self-awareness is turning into a heightened awareness of the people around me.

We need each other. (Pass it on).