We are all broken, in one way or another. People spend their entire lives chasing purpose, like there's a point to it all. Think what you want, but the universe is indifferent to your existence. I have found peace in this truth. But I'm human - I feel helpless, I'm confused, I never really never know what the fuck to do. I cry over boys, who don't know how to do their own laundry; I whine over long lines and 9am lectures. But I alway try to remember: I'm breathing, I'm alive, it's okay. It's not worth wasting your breath; indulge in some good ol self-pity, then move on.
I've experienced things in my life I'm incapable of typing on this page. I pretend like nothing ever happened, by creating a life of green smoothies, frat boys, and sunset hikes. I feel safe in this illusion, and if I could, I'd stay here forever.
It's been a few years since I've mourned the loss of my mother. She's still here, somewhere, doing who knows what. But, it's complicated. From time to time, I'll crave guidance: someone to braid my hair and tell me it's all going to be okay. For the most part, I am emotionally and physically recovered, creating my own destiny, not letting my past define my now.
When children experience adversity, during the formative years of development, there can be lifelong consequences. Maybe your experience was not therapy worthy, but how we were parented, affects our willingness to accept and receive love.
Hurt people, hurt people. It's as simple as that. But why accept this reality? We are young and able to rewrite the scripts of our lives. Through adversity, we learn what love is not like, which by virtue, teaches us how to love.
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Honestly, though, all of this is much easier said than done. We grow up: get lost in the chaos of the 9-5, the boyfriends, our summer trip to Mexico. We are straight up having a good time. This is fun, and it is real, but if you've never acknowledged the scars of your past, you may run into a little trouble along the way. Unresolved pain can manifest negatively in adult relationships. These people are too needy, commitment-phobic, borderline psychotic. They are fuckboys, bad girlfriends, and unreliable friends. Step-back and practice a little empathy for the douchebags of the world. They are self-proclaimed sex-addicts, using the body of another as a subistitue for a deeper love, something they may have never experienced. They are submissive -- insecure people inevitably become insecure lovers.
We seek destructive relationships: people who fit the traumatic identity we are familiar with. We aren't afraid of the tears, the goodbyes. We're afraid of the family trips, the I love you's.
How do we conquer our fears of forever? It's not a simple process. And quite truthfully, I'm still in the midst of trying to figure it all out. What I do know -- the first step is acknowledging how you've been affected by negative experiences in your life. None of us are perfect, despite our efforts to make it seem that way. Our stories, even when they're not so pretty, make us interesting to talk to. They make us passionate in the bedroom and introspective at three in the morning. We deny our hurt, because it's easier, because it's what we were trained to do as a third grader: to forgive, pretend to forget. You'll harbor grief, and like a leaky faucet, it'll seep into your relationships with your friends, partners, and unborn children. Break the cycle, commence the tears, engage in some productive psychoanalyzation.
A while back, at a party, a friend pulled me aside. In a few jumbled sentences, she asked me if I dressed like a slut because I never had a mom to teach me differently. I wanted to scream, walk away, and put on a turtleneck - simultaneously. Granted, in her defense, she was hammered. This stung, not because she was right, but because I realized that even as a young adult, the way I was mistreated as a child affected my behaviors in other aspects of my life. I am a smart girl, who didn't understand what a healthy relationship looked like. I thought it was normal for friends to criticize your appearance, then judge your life choices. I thought it was okay for guys to talk to fifteen girls at once: boys are boys. If he tells me I'm the one, I'll still go over tomorrow night.
Relationships are mirrors. We attract what we are or what we think we are. The fuckboys of the universe aren't ready to face reality; they conquer girls to numb insecurity and satisfy their egos. If you willingly participate in this game, then you are not a victim, but sadly, just another player. Through a shared lack of self-esteem, you bond (for fifteen minutes, if you're lucky). If any of this resonates with you, even slightly, I encourage you to take a step back and self reflect.
Temporary pain imparts permanent wisdom. I have become hyper aware of my flaws, my fears, and my abilities. This is a skill I've had to practice by being vulnerable, like writing articles about sex, love, and struggle. Your method of healing does not need to look like mine. Choose your journey, commit to yourself. Only then, will you be able to commit to somebody else.
