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Dear Becca (from 7 months ago),

You’ve just broken up with your boyfriend of 3 years. I think, (if I remember correctly) you’re still kind of wondering if this is even real. You might even be entirely convinced that it’s not. You’re totally thinking that there is hope for the future.

You’ve convinced yourself of these things because the truth is just entirely too painful. You know the truth, somewhere deep, deep down.

You know that he’s the love of your life. You know that you’ve given everything you had to give to him. You didn’t at first, but as time went on, you got brave and started dreaming of a life with him. Of real things that your heart wouldn’t let you dream of before him. Like weddings, and houses, and kids, and everything you’ve always ever wanted.

Sweet girl, it’s going to hurt. The next few months especially are going to be the hardest, darkest days you’ve ever seen. You’ve never gone through a pain like this, and it’s gonna hurt. It’s going to have to hurt.

And, even now, I can’t blame you for trying to believe. He’s the father of your child. He’s seen you through things you never expected anyone to stand by you through. You’re going to want to try, even if there’s a sliver of a chance. You wouldn’t be the person you are, the person that believes true and lasting love really and truly exists, if you didn’t. But please know that you have tried and tried and tried again. You’ve given every ounce of energy, and that makes you such an amazing person. That gives you a quality that is so rare in this day and age.

This journey has in no way been easy. You find yourself constantly stretched to your max. Some days you will doubt everything about everything. Him, you, love, the world. Everything. Some days you’ll doubt if this journey has changed you for the better at all.

But there will be a day, after all of his walking away, after all of his making you doubt yourself, after all of his rejecting you, after every single time he made you feel like a crazy lunatic, there will be day. It won’t feel like The Day at all.

And it’s definitely not “The Day” you’re picturing now. “The day” you’re picturing has him running back to you, admitting to all of his mistakes, grovelling at your feet, and asking for you to take him back.

‘The Day’ that I’m talking about is the day that you finally rip the band-aid off. The day you finally discover that all of the pain you are putting yourself through isn’t worth it. The day you finally tell him no, give up on the past, and forge a new path forward. Because, on this day, the unknown is so much less scary that what you’re leaving behind.

Dear girl, you’ve become so strong through all of this. You’re truly becoming who you’ve always known you wanted to be. And although you knew that this is what would happen. You could see it coming, but you couldn’t have dreamed how amazing it feels to BE HERE. Life is isn’t perfect, but life will never be perfect.

There will be so many days that you doubt yourself. So many days that you regret your decision. So many days that you wish you could turn back time and just make the hurt and the pain go away, and be his once again.

But believe me, without this pain, you won’t go on this journey. Without this journey, you won’t get to where we can one day be. And that’s at a real love. A real, true, and lasting love. A dream that you won’t have to let go of, that you won’t have to watch shatter on the ground. A dream that can be dreamed. A dream that can even be realized.

Just be strong. Because this chapter’s gonna suck. But the next chapter? Well, I guess we’ll just see. :-)

Oh, and for a long time, you’ll be caught up in the thought of her “winning”. Don’t worry. Forget the fact that neither of them are winning a prize worth winning, worth demeaning yourself for, worth sacrificing your morals, and yourself, for. If he can be “won”, he wasn’t worth fighting for in the first place.
You almost feel sorry for them now. Yes, both of them. The anger will fade. You won’t want to see her, but it’s really okay.

Just stay strong. Because that’s all we can be.

Be the girl

Acceptance

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

Early this winter, there was a boy. It was while I was at a court, waiting to do some actual work. My nose was buried in a book. And there was a boy. He was there for a trial, maybe? He was a very, very cute police boy. He was cute, and he was smart, and funny, and charming. Oh, and cute. We talked. He asked me questions about me. He made me laugh. Good…. Great conversation.

And in the the ensuing months, I proceeded to pathetically and humiliatingly chase after the man who walked, and continued to walk, away from me all-too-willingly.

And so I asked myself why. Why was I so willing to accept the horrible treatment I was receiving from one man, but couldn’t see myself with another who has a degree, is amazingly gorgeous, with a career, who loves helping people, and is basically perfect in every way? Why?

And it occurred to me, like a light bulb coming on, that I refuse to accept what I tell myself I deserve. I want a man who has his stuff together, who wants marriage and family and life together, but if I were to get close to that, I would run for the hills. I would be suspicious of it. I would absolutely and in every way refuse to accept it.

****************************

This journey has been a beautiful one, to say the least. I’ve been amazed at how much I’ve learned about myself. I’ve been amazed at how much I’ve liked about myself. But there are still some things that I don’t like about myself. Some things that I am absolutely convinced that no one else would either, even if I’m shown on a daily basis that that just simply isn’t true.

Case in point: My boss, my friend, a wonderful man, he loves me. He’s old enough to be my dad, and he’s been a stand-in dad in many situations. He loves me. He loves how opinionated I can be. He loves how if I’m feeling something, if I have a perspective on something, I’m going to voice it. You will not be confused as to how I feel about a certain situation.

And yet, this is something I’ve treated as… well, as an unfortunate character flaw that I am stuck with. Like a tumor that hangs off my body, where everyone can see, yet I can do nothing to remove it.

So, I’ve tried not being so vocal about certain things. I’ve started trying to let some things go, and not voicing my opinion on it when I do not think it is worth it. I’ve started letting less menial events affect me.

But it is still something that I cannot accept about myself.

It is something I wish I could change, or at least curb, about myself. When, in a lot of ways, it would be like a peacock wanting to change its colors. But I can’t see that. I can’t accept that fact.

And the truth is, I’m looking for someone to accept these facts about me. These character traits that make me some-what difficult to deal with. And the problem doesn’t solely lie in the fact that I cannot accept them myself, yet I expect someone else to, but I honestly think that acceptance is the best I could hope for. Acceptance of my loudest and most defining of my characteristics.

Why would someone not love them?! You don’t marvel at a peacock when its feathers are down, and the bird doesn’t show them off with immense pride when they are down.

You marvel at a peacock when it’s showing off its most beautiful, powerful, and defining of assets. When it proudly holds its feathers high.

Now, bear in mind that a peacock doesn’t flaunt its feathers all the time. That would be braggadaccio personified. It pulls out its magic trick when it needs to. When the moment calls for it. When it’s appropriate.

But when it does… He is so proud. He attracts his mates. He doesn’t hide them, because he knows the power it possesses.

I need to not only learn to accept my feathers, but learn to love them and flaunt them — when appropriate, of course.

And I need to learn to accept the love of someone who can appreciate and love my feathers too, and someone who deserves them…

The cursor is blinking at me, telling me that there’s something to write. Come on, B, let it out. For the first time in a long, long time, I know exactly what it is… I just can’t bring myself to actually type the words. Like keeping them in my brain means that they’re locked away and safe and maybe, somehow, totally not true at all.

The fact of the matter is that they are.

Deep down, where I barely am brave enough to venture, I’ve been holding on this entire time. Six months now. Six months of holding out hope that someday, something might be different. That my fairytale might actually come true the way I’ve dreamed it, with him as my groom and knight in shining armor.

I’ve mourned the relationship. I’ve mourned the loss of our family. I’ve mourned my best friend, my rock, my confidant. But I never mourned the dreams.

Those fantastical ideas of him and me. Dreams of a wedding; of more babies, and a house, and a life. Of growing old and gray with the love of my life.

They were such beautiful dreams.

Not that they aren’t still what I want…. The exciting part is that I may very well get to have those beautiful dreams realized someday. With someone else…

Sometimes, the worst losses come later, when you least expect it. Sometimes it takes a long time to mourn the things that took three years to build.

And sometimes, after mourning, you just want to forget the pain and heart-ache for a while.
It’s like putting a band-aid over a gaping wound. I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want anything to touch it right now.

So, that’s what I shall do for the time being.

Good night, beautiful internets.

 

All done….

The marks you left on me…
They run much deeper than anyone can see.
I hide them well, bury them deep.
I make them hidden, or so it seems.
So I look fine, and no one knows.
So deep down where no one goes.

I wash you away now.
Down, down the drain
And away you go.
I welcome the rain
Because now I am clean
And now I am free.

You left. You walked away. You urged me to do the same. As I released my crippled grip upon you, I watched you ease effortlessly into her arms. Despite what you said, you could not hide the truth from me. I watched it, cutting myself free only a little too late to keep me from this pain.

So, days, or months, or years from now when you see me… When you find yourself thinking of what a mistake you made to let me go… If I’m with someone new, with someone who fits be, and treats me, and loves me better than YOU… Remember… Always remember, it was YOU that let me go. Pushed me away.

You let me go.

Always remember.

Growing pains

It still hurts, sometimes.

I’ve come so far, but sometimes I still get side-swiped by the pain.

Something as simple as a stranger repinning something on my “Wedding” board (The now renamed, “That thing that probably will never happen but a girl can still hope” board.)

At night, when I’m lying down wishing there was someone to cuddle up against, and a deep, painful breath in when I remember the three years when I *did* have someone to cuddle up against.

When I smell him, and the memories come flooding back.

I don’t spend a lot of time remembering, reminiscing, and dwelling on the pain. I feel that I have moved on from a lot of the pain and anger over the situation.
I try to move on the best I can, every day in the knowledge that this life is what I make it, and I deserve to make it beautiful. My daughter deserves for it to be beautiful.

At first, I wanted to feel anything but. I wanted to think about, remember anything but him and the pain, and the situation. The loss of my dreams and hopes. It felt like it consumed my entire life. Like it was eating me from the inside, out.

Through dating again, I’ve come to realize more and more about myself, and what I want. It has helped tremendously in moving forward and realizing that there is someone amazing out there for me, somewhere.

I have GROWN so much in the past 6 1/2 months. Putting myself and my daughter at first priority in my life. Nothing comes before her. (But, on the flip side of that, I’ve realized that I have to take care of myself in order to be the best mommy possible to her. So, in some cases, I do come before her.)

I have learned that I am not perfect, and have gotten used to being humbled. I laugh, and I mean it. I smile, and my spirit is happy. I am confident in myself, in who I am. I am happy, and am genuinely OKAY with being alone. I like it, actually. Something I have never before been able to say.

So, I don’t dwell in the pain. I don’t focus on it, or spend energy on it. Not anymore. But, every once in a while, it sneaks up on me, surprising me, and leaving me on the verge of tears. I have learned to embrace it, instead of running away from it. To accept it, but not sulk in it. To let it pass as naturally as it came.

And, hopefully one day, those moments will be fewer and further in between. Maybe one day, I can learn to accept the love of another man. Maybe one day, I can meet him and be able to recognize what and who he is, because of what I’ve been through. One day I will be grateful for it.

But today, I am grateful for the opportunity to experience life for me for the first time. To be able to work through my pain, instead of running away from it. For the opportunity to grow and learn about myself, and learn to love, appreciate, and accept myself.

So, yes, it still hurts sometimes, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s a pain that means I’m getting stronger by the day.

Thoughts.

There’s a very specific conundrum that I’m going through right now.

I have never been so happy with myself. I realize that there are things that I need to improve upon, which I hope I never cease doing. I hope personal growth is a life-long journey for me. But, as a whole, I like who I am, I am comfortable in my own skin, and I don’t mind spending quality time with myself.

And those are all things that I have never before been able to say about myself and mean.

But I’m also lonely. Sure, I haven’t really been single all that long. And sure, I just got done dating someone, and didn’t that companionship – even for a little while – feel good?

Of course it did. But I want more. I need more. Not necessarily quantity, but quality.

I long to find a man that not only understands me, but all of my little quirks, he absolutely loves them. I long to find a friend in him, a best friend. Someone who offers the sound advice that I so often need, but who is willing to hear my advice. But I also long for passion. Can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other, electricity-when-our-eyes-meet, fireworks-when-we-kiss, passion.

And I’m beginning to wonder if I will ever find “that” person. I’m beginning to wonder if that person even exists.

But still, a girl can’t help but dream of the day when I find that. And in that dreaming, wonder when it will happen, and thereby question if it will happen.

I try not to focus too much on those things right now. I’m still working on so many details about myself. And I want to be ready for this man when he comes around. I want to be everything he dreams of too, not just damaged goods.

So, for right now, I’m comfortable where I am. Single, happy, working on being a better person, enjoying my time with my daughter, and my time alone, etc.

But I can also have moments of loneliness, right??

For the past couple of months, I’d been dating this guy. Nothing too serious, but still exploring if it was relationship potential.

Last night, I ended things.
Giving a lack of passion, the fact that I don’t see a possibility for a future, and how I’m not so sure I lived up to his expectations for what a woman should be as reasons.

And as soon as I knew the reality of the situation, I couldn’t continue the charade. Even if Valentine’s Day is two days away.

It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It wasn’t necessarily mine. Just not ultimately compatible.

A great guy, someone who will make a great husband some day, but not for me. Which is unfortunate is some ways, not so much in others.

It was never a super passionate affair. I always enjoyed my conversations with him, I always enjoyed spending time with him, but when it came down to it… He didn’t make my knees weak. His kiss didn’t send goosebumps all over me.

At first, I appreciated the pace at which it was going. Slow, steady. A very natural pace. Fast forward two months, I wasn’t sure it was EVER going to go anywhere.

I need more from a potential boyfriend than to simply enjoy spending time with him. I need passion, as well as compatibility. I need moments where we just can’t seem to get close enough, where we just can’t get enough of each other, as well as moments where we feel incredibly comfortable around each other, even if it’s just sitting around reading books.

And I definitely noted a few things about myself, and a potential partner, during our dating experience.

Namely, that I need a strong, confident man. I’m a hand-full. I am not easy to deal with, to handle. I need someone who can hold me when I’ve had a bad day, but can also tell me when I’m being a jerk.

So, hopefully that man is out there. Part of me is excited to have ruled another one out. To have learned more about myself and what I need from a relationship. For handling it in a pretty mature manner. To just have myself and my baby girl to worry about. I like being myself these days. Being alone isn’t necessarily a bad thing anymore.
But another part of me is sad that yet another one didn’t work. That I will be single on Valentine’s Day. While most of me looks forward to being single, another part of me realizes that with being single also comes loneliness.

 

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