I have finally accepted something that I’ve needed to for a while now.
You are you.
And I am me.
Two separate whole beings. And until we help ourselves, we won’t have the space to help anyone else…. and I know you aren’t just anyone, but right now, I have to be my number one priority.
And I’m tired—tired of rethinking all of the things I could have said to change the way things ended. I need to stop, and breathe, and realize that this has been an essential lesson preparing me to experience my life in its greatest possible capacity.
I need to stop punishing myself for something that is so completely outside of my control.
I need to release the idea of needing to have that control, and allow the tension in my shoulders to slowly ease as a sense of freedom replaces it.
I need to stop falling into old patterns, searching and seeking for validation from men who don’t deserve my emotional investment, whether subconsciously or not.
We all have a history. We all have a past. We are human.
We all have things that have come into our lives and grabbed our hearts and squeezed so hard we wondered if we would ever inhale without our breath catching again. We have been burned. We have been hurt. We have had our dear and precious hearts poked and prodded to the point that we worry the bruises will never fade.
And sometimes we let these old wounds flare up and repeat in our new relationships. Like an old scar turning blue as the unassuming, icy ocean finds warm flesh, serving as a friendly reminder of the time I was distracted pouring my morning coffee.
We get to choose how we respond. That coffee scar can make us giggle at our stupidity or tiredness as we remember that moment, or we can resent ourselves for being human and making mistakes.
The scar doesn’t go away, but it will fade with time, and we get to decide how much of our attention it deserves.
Just as we can look at past loves and thank them for teaching us and helping us grow, we can just as easily hang on to old wounds and old ideas about who we are and who that other person is, and let that play out in our new relationships.
We have to remember that we have a choice.
Instead of closing ourselves off to love, instead of being bitter, instead of putting our ideas of that old hurt on the face of our new love, instead of denying that feelings exist, instead of being frightened to let someone in, again, we get to choose. And we can choose love.
Because if we keep playing it safe, scared of the idea of being let down, or rejected or misunderstood or left behind, or any number of limiting beliefs that we let have control, we will never know what it feels like to be loved with the fierceness that our soul craves.
And choosing love is not always easy, but it’s always simple.
As humans we all inherently want to love and be loved in return. The simplicity comes in knowing this; the hard part comes with accepting.
We all have cracks, I know I do, and I saw yours play out every time I spoke words that caused you to shut down or lash out, as the words of past lovers became those that passed my lips. I watched as your eyes looked at me as if my face had changed, as though a part of me was suddenly her.
And I wanted to shake your shoulders and squeeze your arms and remind you that at some point you are going to have to take a chance. You are going to have to take a risk, and trust someone enough to allow them to love your heart, and all of your hurt, and all of your vulnerability, and all of your greatness, because I can see that in you, even when you can’t.
But I can’t fix you, and I don’t want to.
Because you don’t need fixing. None of us do.
This is the beautiful thing about our wounds, our beautiful battle scars: they are there for a reason, to teach us, to grow us and to allow us to see how they have helped shape our greatness.
When we realize that these scars aren’t here to hurt us, but just to serve as reminders, we can see them as the lessons they are.
In all of our cracks there are beautiful lessons to be learned.
Instead of fixing you, I need to accept you, and you need to accept me.
And I know you aren’t ready. Because before you can open up and allow me to curl up on your chest and speak with your vulnerable heart and trust me to love it with all of my being, you have to be able to do this with yourself.
Just as I have to learn to fall in love with myself, and not just the parts I like, but all of me, all of the messy parts of me.
I keep thinking back over why things happen the way they do, I don’t just mean with you and I, but in life. I believe in my heart of hearts that this is all for a purpose. It’s a trial of sorts, we are not put through anything that we aren’t designed to handle. We will use this chapter of our lives as a training ground to learn and grow and prepare for the turn of the page, and the start of something new, and beautiful.
So, it’s time to get to know our cracks, and our scars and our tender bruises and let them teach us their lessons. Because until we learn from them, we will keep repeating the same cycles and patterns again and again.
And I’m ready; I’m ready to love fiercely and be loved fiercely in return.
I don’t need fixing, and neither do you.
Author: Skye Hughes
Editor: Katarina Tavčar
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The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? These People are Rare Gems—Keep Them, Fight for Them, don’t Give Up on Them. An Open Letter to the Fixers. Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.” Waylon shares 10 transformingly beautiful Quotes about Love. 40 Things I’ve Learned in 40 Years. When your Heart is Wounded, I will Hold your Hand. Dear Woman in the White Car at Margaritas Mexican Grill in West Memphis, Arkansas on July 15th, 2012.