Hopeless Romantic

Let's circle back to fear here, for many of our decisions and actions are driven by our fear... Or desire. Oh, the duality of fiercely clutching onto freedom while despairingly desiring to be seen by another.

This may come as a surprise, especially to those who have known me for some time as a "stubbornly independent" who rather enjoys her own company (perhaps too much), but in my heart of hearts I am a hopeless romantic. Since I could remember I would devour various love stories from cult classic rom-coms, cozy fantasy novels of characters stumbling into a love or creating their own sense of a found family, poetry of vast loves withstanding the tests of time, music of heartbreak yet hope or gratitude of love had then lost or of love yet to come, of tender love untold but held between two souls. A part of me knew, knows, how cruel and unforgiving the world can be, yet I've always had the tendency to see the good more clearly. Call me a blind optimistic, but I see and expect the best of everyone, until disappointedly proven otherwise. I think people are inherently good, and the ones who have strayed from their nature have allowed their pain turn into bitter fear worn upon their sleeves, tainting their hearts (yet it is still their responsibility what they do with their pain and still a choice on how they treat others, no excusing actions made no matter where they may derive from). For me, I wear the masked fear of loving another and being loved, despite being a romantic and desiring exactly what I am most afraid of.

Miss Reliable

For those I care for, I love quietly yet wholeheartedly and will give my all even when I have little to give. My affection is not loud by any means, but shows itself consistently little by little, by showing up imperfectly, yes, and consistently. I'm "Miss Reliable." At first, when I was coined this adjective, I will admit it pricked my pride a bit; it felt like a demotion of who I am. You see, dear reader, fear has to be born and fostered, from somewhere. For some, it may be one grand, dramatic moment where for others, like myself, it comes from the dropping of pebble by pebble spanning over time to create the sands of fear-based beliefs.

Throughout my existence I have been hurt over and over by different relationship dynamics, mostly by what I thought to be friendship, that eventually it seemed to me that I am the common denominator; that it shouldn't be this hard to make and keep friends, that maybe I am the problem. Something must be wrong with me. I carried this subconscious belief for quite some time, the fear morphing and expanding into its own conscious presence controlling my love life, or lack thereof. So, being referred to as a "reliable source" in my younger brother's life (at a time I was really struggling to connect with him across the eleven-year age gap and was reassured my presence was appreciated by its predictability), I equated that to convenience, of my presence being convenient rather than valued or appreciated. My whole life I felt unwanted, not enough no matter how hard I tried to "earn" my worth, but hey, at least everyone could rely on me just being here. Don't get me wrong, I want those I care for to be able to depend on me, to know I will be there when they depend on me, but I also want to be more than "reliable" or simply just - here.

Fear has Consumed My Conscious

For years, I thought I was incapable of being loved, or perhaps I am incapable of loving someone else truly the way I am "supposed to." So, I've inadvertently let that fear drive me, preventing anyone from getting close enough to have the chance to fully know me. Perhaps that way I will not be so hurt when they come to be inevitably disappointed by what they see. Struggling with my health certainly didn't help to quell the belief either, making it unfathomable at times as to why some people have stayed in my life when they have no obligation to, when I have very little to give in return. For the longest time, I could not possibly imagine how anyone could love me when I felt broken, a fractured reflection of who I once was and shambles of who I may never be again. The caveat is, I want so much for myself: love, a fulfilling life, and everything in between. I want to live a healthy, memorable life where I love unconditionally (I will expand on the boundaries of unconditional love in another story); where I am loved in return. I want to be reliable and more, yet I don't know how to move past my fear. Anytime I begin to get close to someone, romantically especially but even platonically, I start to feel this weight of overwhelming panic where I don't feel safe. I know that is my fear demanding to be heard yet how do you even begin to pick apart your intuition, or your true feelings, from the noise of the body's protective mechanism? Could I ever feel safe enough to be seen, to be held, as I am?

I know this is a lot to sift through without a simple answer; other than time and gentle persistence I suppose. I also know I am not alone, that others may also be afraid to be vulnerable by "letting" someone love them. Oddly enough, I can't seem to shake this feeling that I may meet someone unexpected soon who may challenge this long-standing belief. I have no clue how or when, yet at the end of the day I know it is still my responsibility to heal my own wounds. Although, I no longer question my ability to love another, I cannot move through the fear of being loved without someone there to help challenge the idea that I must be deserving of it. Somethings, after all, we are unable to face alone and for once, I relish the thought of growing with another rather than always existing on my own.

So, to you, dear reader, I ask you this: how do you love and be loved?