So to make a long story...well appropriately vague for blogging...basically I thought I was in mutual "like" with someone...but then it got confusing. I was definitely feeling hurt and disappointed. My natural tendency was to pretend I was unaffected. But then I decided if I am going to be authentic, there's nothing shameful about expressing how I feel, even if he doesn't respond how I want him to. I was so scared to say what I wanted to but also calm because I think I'm getting better at practicing vulnerability.
...His response was not what I hoped for. I was taken aback by it. I think I've felt that for the past little while things were subtly changing--I just didn't want to admit it. That thought hurt but in that moment, I had a victory because I felt ok. I was sad and hurt but not really angry or embarrassed or self-deprecating. I leaned into vulnerability but rather than finding it excruciating, I found it to be merely bittersweet. I could be sad without shame poisoning the moments of excitement and connection I'd felt.
I was surprised my my own calm and acceptance of rejection. When I first watched "The Power of Vulnerability" TedTalk, I remember Brene Brown mentioning that one example of vulnerability was being the first to say "I love you." I was like "this lady is onto something but I could NEVER do that." I would die before I could leave myself that exposed. I felt emotionally naked just thinking about it! But I could recognize this as real bravery. That was two years ago. Since then, I've been trying to do things that are vulnerable, even if it scares me. Actually, especially if it scares me.
Two years later, I haven't had the chance to be the first to say "I love you," but the thought of saying it no longer terrifies me. Before I was scared because I never wanted to leave myself open to be laughed at or ridiculed. I have been so convinced for so long that I could never be enough and that I am incapable and inadequate and embarrassing--not just relationally but occupationally...spiritually...you name it. Since this was who I was, the best thing I could do to get by in the world was to make sure no one else could see it. Surely if they knew who I was, they would reject me. I would be alone. But the thing is, I was already feeling alone and rejected because I wasn't leaving myself open to connection. I didn't think I was worthy of it.
I think I'm finally reaching a place where I am not crippled by those feelings on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, those feelings resurface rather frequently but they come less often, are less intense, and don't last as long. But if anything has come from this experience with this guy, it's realizing that a good, confident, funny, ambitious, spiritual man could in reality be interested in me. Because he was. He may not be now but he was on some level at one point. I don't need to act on the assumption that someone well-suited to me is automatically out of reach and out of my league. Just because I am single doesn't mean there is something wrong with me. I know this is kind of a "duh" statement but sometimes what I know in my head doesn't always translate to knowing in my heart.
I grew up thinking that good things are generally unattainable and fleeting at best because life is suffering. It is working hard and still having the rug pulled out from under you. I am angry that this idea exists and angry that so many around me have bought into it. And I'm sad that I've lived my life up until now continuing to buy into it.
"We are afraid to lose what we love the most, and we hate there are no guarantees. We think not being grateful and not feeling joy will hurt less...Marianne Williamson says, 'joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are'" (The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 82,84)
Sometimes I find myself scared to even mention any happy thoughts, excitement, or personal victories because I'm afraid I'll jinx" it. How ridiculous is this?! By doing this, I don't even allow myself to fully enjoy the moments of hope and joy I do have. It's not just pain and hurt and shame that are vulnerable, but even joy and happiness and success are vulnerable. And I am realizing I numb those too!
Brown talks about practicing gratitude as the pathway to joy. As I am looking back on this experience to see how my current experience differs from my past, I realize that the difference really has been gratitude. I am grateful for the excitement I have felt, for the self-acceptance I gained, for the hope I feel for the future, for the increased measure of confidence I feel in myself. At least in this situation, I haven't let the presence of pain and rejection overcome the moments of happiness I have felt. I feel like in the future I really could "love like I haven't been hurt"--or at the very least "like" somebody without feeling deterred by shame and self-doubt. This is a huge deal for a woman who two years ago couldn't even fathom the thought of saying "I love you" first. Now I look forward to it. In this moment I don't feel afraid of life. And I'm not afraid to admit that for fear I'll "jinx" my courage and it will go away. I'm learning to lean into the vulnerability of the painful and the hopeful--its my own case study in "daring greatly."
I was surprised my my own calm and acceptance of rejection. When I first watched "The Power of Vulnerability" TedTalk, I remember Brene Brown mentioning that one example of vulnerability was being the first to say "I love you." I was like "this lady is onto something but I could NEVER do that." I would die before I could leave myself that exposed. I felt emotionally naked just thinking about it! But I could recognize this as real bravery. That was two years ago. Since then, I've been trying to do things that are vulnerable, even if it scares me. Actually, especially if it scares me.
Two years later, I haven't had the chance to be the first to say "I love you," but the thought of saying it no longer terrifies me. Before I was scared because I never wanted to leave myself open to be laughed at or ridiculed. I have been so convinced for so long that I could never be enough and that I am incapable and inadequate and embarrassing--not just relationally but occupationally...spiritually...you name it. Since this was who I was, the best thing I could do to get by in the world was to make sure no one else could see it. Surely if they knew who I was, they would reject me. I would be alone. But the thing is, I was already feeling alone and rejected because I wasn't leaving myself open to connection. I didn't think I was worthy of it.
I think I'm finally reaching a place where I am not crippled by those feelings on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, those feelings resurface rather frequently but they come less often, are less intense, and don't last as long. But if anything has come from this experience with this guy, it's realizing that a good, confident, funny, ambitious, spiritual man could in reality be interested in me. Because he was. He may not be now but he was on some level at one point. I don't need to act on the assumption that someone well-suited to me is automatically out of reach and out of my league. Just because I am single doesn't mean there is something wrong with me. I know this is kind of a "duh" statement but sometimes what I know in my head doesn't always translate to knowing in my heart.
I grew up thinking that good things are generally unattainable and fleeting at best because life is suffering. It is working hard and still having the rug pulled out from under you. I am angry that this idea exists and angry that so many around me have bought into it. And I'm sad that I've lived my life up until now continuing to buy into it.
"We are afraid to lose what we love the most, and we hate there are no guarantees. We think not being grateful and not feeling joy will hurt less...Marianne Williamson says, 'joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are'" (The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 82,84)
Sometimes I find myself scared to even mention any happy thoughts, excitement, or personal victories because I'm afraid I'll jinx" it. How ridiculous is this?! By doing this, I don't even allow myself to fully enjoy the moments of hope and joy I do have. It's not just pain and hurt and shame that are vulnerable, but even joy and happiness and success are vulnerable. And I am realizing I numb those too!
Brown talks about practicing gratitude as the pathway to joy. As I am looking back on this experience to see how my current experience differs from my past, I realize that the difference really has been gratitude. I am grateful for the excitement I have felt, for the self-acceptance I gained, for the hope I feel for the future, for the increased measure of confidence I feel in myself. At least in this situation, I haven't let the presence of pain and rejection overcome the moments of happiness I have felt. I feel like in the future I really could "love like I haven't been hurt"--or at the very least "like" somebody without feeling deterred by shame and self-doubt. This is a huge deal for a woman who two years ago couldn't even fathom the thought of saying "I love you" first. Now I look forward to it. In this moment I don't feel afraid of life. And I'm not afraid to admit that for fear I'll "jinx" my courage and it will go away. I'm learning to lean into the vulnerability of the painful and the hopeful--its my own case study in "daring greatly."
