There I was on the floor of our foyer, tears streaming down my face, and his face was the only thing I could see as I wailed and screamed out to no one, “Give him back—he is mine!”
That day feels like a lifetime ago and as if it was yesterday at the same time. It’s been nearly five years, and life has changed for me in a way that I can’t even comprehend, let alone explain.
That loss was unexplainable, but it was the catalyst to my recovery and healing, so I am grateful.
Since that day, I have learned one of the most painful lessons of all time: people are not ours to keep.
Sometimes, we are lucky enough to be with someone for a long period of time, but they are not ours forever. People don’t “belong” to us. They are not our property—they are their own beings, souls, and entities, living life as we are. If we look at them as if we “own” them, we are bound to experience extreme pain when they leave.
The reality is, we are simply borrowing them for a period of time. We are sharing life with them; we are creating experiences, learning our lessons, and then, sometimes, they (or we) move on to what is next. Whether it’s for months or years, through breakups, divorce, or death, we simply do not have someone forever. To think we do is an illusion, and we are only fooling ourselves into thinking we have security in someone—because we don’t.
Security lives within ourselves. The life we create must be a life where we are content with who we are outside of that other being. That being has their own journey in this life, and it isn’t guaranteed that we will be on that path with them for all time.
In my coaching practice, I focus on the importance of being with my “self” and enjoying that company. If there is a fear of aloneness (and I mean a true, genuine fear), this can be catastrophic to the well-being of that person who holds that fear.
The fear of being alone can lead to many different problems, such as settling for less, accepting toxic behavior and abuse, and eventual devastation when a person leaves and we are left alone.
Being with the self can be magical, healing, secure, and serene. Reframing “alone” to a mindset of “being with the self” is a much more positive view and helps us understand that we are always with it, even if we are surrounded by people.
We all might know someone who told us they feel completely alone in a room full of people. That’s because people don’t fill the void, and when we are not in love with ourselves, when we are not content with ourselves, that room full of people can feel empty.
For me, when I am not feeling the love for myself, that room full of people sounds like mindless chatter and chaos—that is when I want to crawl into myself the most.
That feeling is what shows me where I am and what I need at that time.
Personally, despite being outgoing and confident, I get my energy from my alone time. People tend to deplete me of my energy, and it’s that “me time” that I seek for respite. I love the space where I have allowed myself to be whole, to cry, to be creative, to do yoga, sit in silence, read, write, journal, and just be. Without this space, I would feel lost.
We can fill ourselves up and make ourselves whole, so we don’t have to be so attached to the fantasy that a person or a relationship is forever—because there is no such thing, and we shouldn’t need this.
Yes, we all enjoy a person’s company, we love the smell and the touch of another being, but they should not be what makes us feel whole.
So please, love yourself deeply and watch the magic unfold.