Today, I am grieving.
Today, I am grieving the abandonment of my inner child, and all her wounds from loving others and being loved.
Her wounds from chasing her father to win his love, only to have him disappear, cold and aloof.
Her wounds of never seeing a male figure treat her or her mother with love, respect, and appreciation.
Today, I am grieving the death of a love that I prayed would blossom into a flower of colorful petals, like my soul—but it did not.
I kept nurturing that flower, even though it was fading away.
I saw its dark soil, thick thorns, and many holes, but I still believed it could blossom if I just watered it enough.
It still did not.
Today, I am grieving the death of an unhealthy connection to a man who suffers from addiction.
Today, I am grieving the part of my heart covered with Band-Aids—my bleeding soul. I knew I could not take a stand in his life, because he did not seem to stand for himself.
If there is one thing that makes me completely vulnerable, it is love. And for me, love comes with sex, sexual pleasure, and the power of touch on skin.
Love and sex are strongly connected; if one is not there, the other is not going to work.
Today, I am grieving the men who always made me feel small, who belittled me, who toyed with my sensitive heart. The ones who played dirty, mind-twisting games that destroyed my delicate self-esteem.
Today, I grieve the men who came to me in hopes I would fix or mother them. Maybe they sensed my irresistible desire to save them from themselves—but I never could.
I’ve always romanticized and eroticized these types of connections; my tendency to fantasize about them was a sense of pleasure or “love” that stemmed from an endless push-and-pull dynamic.
The abusers or broken ones would always gravitate to me in one way or another.
As I sit here on my bed this morning, my eyes swollen from a sense of inner loss, I place my hands on my chest, and I ask my inner child to forgive me for abandoning her, for not listening to her, even though she warned me many times.
My inner child, that sweet, little girl within feels vulnerable and is tired of being abandoned.
Today, my inner child, I am making you a promise:
“My love, I am deeply sorry for treating you poorly, and allowing men to treat us poorly. You deserve all the love in the world. You deserve appreciation for being so bright, deep, and intelligent. You have a heart of gold. I am starting to listen to you better now, through our cries and warm tears. You deserve the whole world, my love, and I am going to give it to you. Please forgive me.”
As for that man. He told me his truth and I told him mine. For the first time, we did not fight or point fingers at each other.
I said a silent goodbye—love still hanging on my chest.
Sometimes, you can open your heart, feel all the love, the wounds, the abandonment, and still understand you are not right for each other.
This is a healthy way to end an unhealthy connection.
There is no need for drama, just an understanding that love is not always enough.
It takes two mature humans on the same level of inner growth, maturity, and resonance to be able to dance together into the depths of true love and transform.
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