January 2022
It was precisely the moment when an ex-lover called me a “dirtbag clown” that something became unlocked for me. Perhaps it was my self-respect, which had shriveled down to a little pulp of nothing over the time of our being emotionally entangled. Shortly after that, another ex-lover shared his love in a very namaste kind of way. Thanks. Insert emoji with no emotion. Earlier in the pandemic, there was another old lover who expressed his love, but typically his waves of love come in the form of his own fears in his current reality. He was feeling vulnerable and perhaps a little afraid in the relationship that he was choosing; and that was our thing. In my vulnerability, I would cling to our connection with these very school-aged idealizations of a person that I haven’t spent much IRL time with. This is kind of my own pattern, to escape the reality of owning my aloneness. 
Loving pieces of a person vs. the whole. Love shades the way that we choose to interact with the world. It is quite a beautiful and ugly and hard thing. It is a verb. I realize that I have never been short on “love” from men. Perceived love. How we see and experience others' love  is largely based on our perception, which is rooted in how we came to understand and learn love. Was I loved in the way that I needed? Could I feel the love? What is my love language? Do our languages make sense to each other? Is the other willing to take some leaps and experience growing pains? Do I know how they experienced my love? 
Earlier in the pandemic I reconnected with a very old ex, and this one an official boyfriend; we connected about that time in our lives that ended in quite a mess. An aborted fetus, and aborted dreams of fanciful roots. Ultimately, we realized there is no way that we would choose each other now. 
I’m tired. I’m tired of hearing “I love you,” and I’m tired of feeling like there is a need for it. I also am realizing how luscious I am, and that is something that I can’t even describe. Way more purposeful than a lover, and I actually feel good after I get home. I actually feel hopeful about life after I love myself. Which actively means allowing myself to sit with shit, allowing myself to unfold and unravel, and keeping white patriarchal norms, and ideals rooted in capitalism, out of my fucking head. Well, with the latter, that is a daily battle. I want to feel loved in a way that recognizes that at a baseline we understand we are fighting constant battles. Try a little tenderness. Dig a bit deeper into comfort. Trust that the intentions are rooted in caring for your success. This is my new mantra as I learn a bit more about loving myself. 
I realized yesterday that something can be for my higher good, even if it is not in long-term alignment. It is about the journey to where I am going. The person that I need to become. What is the reminder that I need to choose myself, to choose goodness for me? The experience I’m moving through, the feelings that may come along with it, those are also temporary. Unless I want to wallow, and that is allowed. I just need to watch my levels of indulgence. Observe them. Don’t condemn myself for being human. And also luscious. 
Ultimately, the core of all of these lessons on love is that I am in the driver seat. I can choose to open or close, I can choose to show up as less than ideal. I can choose to find ways to redeem myself. I can also choose to want to have a completely different set of experiences as I age, and that is undoubtedly within my realm of control. I choose whether the thought will take me down the hole or not. I choose if I want to go there today. I am not trying to maintain a state of absolute perfection and balance, but I am trying to observe what maintains my balance, what throws me off. What puts me to sleep. I can glean beauty, stardust and fancy from all of my past romantic experiences. Or, I can see them for what they were: experiences with other beings attempting to figure it out. No one knows what they’re doing. I’m just fucking thankful that I am feeling way more empowered to say when I am not interested in the ride someone is offering.
Back to Top