They say the first love is the hardest to forget.
But to me, it was never significant. It did hurt a bit initially; there was the disappointment, the rejection, the sense of loss and confusion, the denial, and much more. Fortunately, I didn’t dwell on it too much. I moved on quickly and started anew. It was erased and gone.
Fast forward 12 years; I’ve had a marriage, a kid, and a divorce. I’ll leave the exact details out because nothing else was significant about the marriage besides the kid. I take full responsibility for damaging that person. I got into the marriage as an escapade from my own uncertainties and need for security. I was unsure of my life and what I wanted out of it.
I didn’t want to damage this person any further; I knew if I stayed, that’s what I would have been doing to him, to me, and eventually to our kid.
And now, fast forward another three years. I have learned a great deal about life. I know what it means to give birth; I understand the whirlwind, the hurt, and pain of it all. I even know what my gift is to share with humanity. I’ve walked the journey I needed to walk to be here. All is good (I thought).
That love from 15 years ago was suddenly looking me in the face again. The first love experience, which I thought had gone poof, kept haunting me.
I thought, “What the f*ck?
Why is this being brought up now? Isn’t it done and dusted? We have both moved on pretty well.”
I had shut out those voices and gone about my life. I had more significant concerns and more important things to do—a kid to raise, a career to work on, my gift to share, and a whole life to build.
Please stop haunting me with something as insignificant as this. Just shut up already, please!
Well, shut up, they did not. They just got louder and more persistent.
I gave in a couple of nights ago and decided to heed to these divine voices.
I am here, and I am listening; please tell me what this is all about and what you want me to do.
“Dig,” they said.
I thought…dig what?
“Whatever you buried 15 years ago—your hopes and dreams, the life you envisioned with that person, the anger and rage, the extreme hurt and hate, the disappointment, the experiences and memories, the love, and yourself. Dig them all out.”
Damn! Another mask removed, exposed, and vulnerable.
Fortunately, I am an expert in this kind of thing now; I know the only way out is in.
So, I started digging, and things started coming out in layers.
First came the rage—lots of it—then anger, hatred, disappointment, hurt, pain, blame, guilt, and resentment.
You name it; they were all coming out.
It was exhausting, and then the pace got slower. The emotions were milder. There were tears, lots of them, as memories were getting more vivid.
The last layer, deeply rooted, was love. And entangled within it was me. I had been buried all along—I didn’t even know who I was.
The first love is significant. I can now hear myself agreeing.
I knew I had to be gentle as I was digging myself and the love out.
This experience made me reflect a lot. I thought about what was, what would have been, and what is.
I needed to lose that part of me and walk a different direction. Pain and loneliness were required for me to start the journey within—to fulfill my promise made to higher realms, to work on my inner child, and cut generational curses. For this, I needed to be hurt and walk my journey alone.
While doing that, I started to understand what my responsibilities are in this lifetime. I was able to unlock my higher purpose, use my gifts to fulfill this purpose, and create my heaven on earth.
I’m thankful for having to walk down this path and fulfill some of the oaths I have taken. I am grateful for the people who have done their part in ensuring I walk my journey, and I’m even more thankful to my spiritual guides for beautifully crafting that path and always nudging me to do what is right—difficult, but right.
I am still trembling, looking down at my hands.
I see my love and me; it’s been eons since I’ve held them both.
It’s time to get acquainted again.