One of the best parts of
being human is the ability to feel. The range of emotions we’re capable of
experiencing is such a beautiful gift from God. But in order to feel the
extremes of some (or all) of these emotions, we’re called to fully embrace life
and the opportunities we’re given.
As an introvert, I
haven’t always been the best with diving head first into anything new or
unfamiliar. I’ve been okay playing the spunky sidekick best friend as I’ve
lived vicariously through many of my pals’ relationships. I never minded handing over the box of tissues after a breakup or giving hugs (and
lots of validation) after enduring a long argument with a significant other.
But even as I watched
comfortably from the sidelines (admittedly sometimes enviously), I knew my time
would come.
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As I’ve grown up and
discovered more of who I am, I'm more mindful of what type of person I want to end up with.
No, I don’t have a specific list (tall, dreamy eyes and a huge heart would
suffice) but I don't willingly hand my heart over to just anyone.
And even when I have
found someone I believe complements me, shares my values, has similar goals,
and I can easily see myself laughing throughout the rest of life with, I’m
cautious. Can I really trust them with my heart?
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Everyone’s felt it at
one point in their lives. The sting of rejection. Being tossed aside like
yesterday’s newspaper. Whether it’s being picked last at recess or having to be
told by a significant other’s sibling that basically ... you’re unlovable, there’s
nothing that can prepare you for the shock of immense hurt.
You receive the information through your ears
(or eyes if they’re cowardice enough to send the harrowing information over a
text), it travels to the brain and gives you shivering goosebumps from head to toe. Once
it hits the heart (which may take a couple of hours or even days depending on personal processing time), devastation paralyzes you to the point of a breakdown (see: uncontrollable sobbing collapsed to the ground in a coworker’s office in the
middle of the morning).
Moments begin to replay
in your mind, thoughts rush through your head and your heart convinces you:
You’re not good enough. Maybe he’s looking for someone better than
me. Maybe my flaws are so annoying that no one can realistically put up with
them. Maybe I planned too much of our potential future in my head.
You’re not attractive
enough. Maybe it was my
acne scars or the way I wear my hair 98% of the time. Maybe I’m too tall or he
doesn’t like that I carry an extra few pounds on my thighs.
You’re not enough of
what he’s looking for. Maybe if I made him
laugh more or didn’t suggest eating vegetables. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed
him to spread his wings. Maybe I was too boring.
Melissa, you shouldn’t
have even tried because you are not enough.
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So ladies, why do we
keep doing it? Why do we keep putting ourselves out there only to get it handed
back to us? Why over and over again do we take the leap of faith?
To live? To feel? To
hope this time it might actually be forever?
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My coworker cradled me
into a motherly hug as I broke down (literally) into her shoulder, “Give yourself one day
to wallow,” she said. “Then pick yourself back up and press forward.”
That’s all we can do,
right? From the little strength we have from praying a daily Rosary or
attending Mass, we pray for the people who’ve hurt us (even
if you want to scream at how their dishonesty shattered your heart), pick up the pieces and move
on.
Oh and make a really big cup of lemon-chamomile tea, cause that’s the only thing to do when life hands you lemons.
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