Complicit In My Own Suffering

At what point does it become insanely unworkable to be a participant in my own struggles? How long can I be helpless when it comes to healing my heart and my self imposed brokenness? What is this insanity of being attached to a story of being wary beyond belief but not sharing with those who love me that I need them very much? How can I be a good lover to a man who wants to love me, learn me, and be vulnerable if I’m not going to open the door and invite him in? I say I’m willing, and I am willing but damn it is terrifying, uneasy, uncomfortable and sometimes it gives me an anxiety attack because being rejected after opening up feels like a hot iron branding my skin. However, how can one expect a magnificent love without the risk of crippling and earth-shattering pain?

Now, I don’t want to romanticize and make my fears unique or even extraordinary because they are not. In fact, not wanting to feel pain after being hurt is pretty much a very common feeling amongst most human beings. I do however want to be responsible and share that my awareness of my behavior and how my thoughts and deeds keep me in a loop of being armored up to my eyeballs while still wanting to connect and have this magical love. Ahhhhh!!!!!! Receiving isn’t the most comfortable thing for me and it’s simply because I have to surrender my control of the situation. I have no control over what someone wants to do for me and I’m going to have to be okay with that. I have no control over how someone will love me, administer their love, and take their time to learn who I am. The exact same way I can do it without instruction or permission is the same way someone can do the same for me. Light bulb 💡!!!!! I gotta let people love me without interjection or protest.

The big picture is romantic. The everyday details are grueling. It’s the work of simultaneously building unshakable confidence and allowing myself to be vulnerable. It’s the day to day of interpersonal dynamics, making a choice to say “I need help.” , “You hurt my feelings.”, “I’m sorry and I want to talk this whole thing through.” Each time I skip over an opportunity to be vulnerable, I move further away from allowing people to learn my language. When I shy away from being honest about my hurt feelings because somewhere in my past someone taught me that my sharing didn’t actually matter. I allowed a rejection at some point to stop me from being open and I allow many opportunities to pass by because it’s simply easier than opening myself up. Fuck. It is the choice to actively communicate every day with honesty, vulnerability and openness KNOWING there is a possibility of not being heard the way I would like to be heard BUT it also leaves the space to be validated and loved just a little deeper.

I’m am as simple as I am complicated. My outward appearance is one thing and my insides are another. However, I am layered like all people. Suffering is a choice and it’s the layer right above authenticity. It covers my choice to be responsible for teaching people how to speak my language. It’s the buffer between me and getting my heartbroken and the magic of being loved for all that I am. I am not going to make myself wrong for being an active participant in my bullshit because that’s not responsible. I am however going to be responsible for the work it takes to be open, vulnerable and share especially when it is uncomfortable and I’m being stubborn. Confidence is born out of knowing the balance between yielding and not backing down.

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