So hey, it’s Valentine’s Day. And less than a week ago, I broke off a six-month dating…thing. The reasoning was simple: it wasn’t moving along and as a result, I was becoming unhappy. I didn’t want to–at all–but it was necessary. I think. I hope. It was, right?!
…As always, I have an inherent distrust of my own needs. I know it was right to stick up for myself and say, “Hey, we either go for this or we don’t,” but I still question myself. Was I too hasty? Is this really the right thing? I suppose time will tell.
I’m not usually the one to do this stuff. I’m always the one hanging around too long and therefore getting dumped, so I’m not used to this. It’s confusing, because it’s your decision yet you still have all the bad feelings that come with it.
Another thing that makes this harder is that this was the closest to “getting it right” that I’ve ever been. I felt comfortable around him, I wasn’t always afraid to communicate my feelings, and they were heard respectfully. I stood up for myself more than I ever have in any other situation. Usually, I’d be so afraid of rocking the boat and so desperate for validation that I buried everything so deep and ignored my needs. Then, when I was inevitably left, I had to deal with all that baggage on my own. That didn’t happen this time.
It almost makes it harder post breakup, and to quote a wonderful woman from a podcast I listen to, because “I did it right this time. It *should* have worked out. Sometimes you can be right, or good, or good enough, and it still doesn’t work out. For so long I blamed myself for relationships falling apart, and this time I didn’t do that, so it’s like, WHY?!” It sucks.
It also sucks that it came about the week before this bullshit holiday. Now I get everyone’s flowers and special dinners shoved in my face all over social media and in the office. Once again, I’m left with going home to my cat, because I just love emotionally unavailable men. :::giving myself some side-eye:::
I swear I’m not trying to dwell. I’m trying to use some of this as an exercise of what I’ve read as “being brave in sadness.” I’ve never been good at genuinely feeling my emotions and walking through them. I bury things. I’m trying to learn to sit with them so I can properly feel them, properly grieve, and fully process it all. I don’t want to let them color future situations this time. I want some good to come out of this.
As the blogger who wrote about this said:
“To me, brave in sadness means sitting with my tender spots and my vulnerabilities. It means facing the direction of my fear and inching my way through it to the other side. It means expressing my broken pieces with absolute courage, whether in writing, conversation, or my art. It means seeing the light of possibility in my disappointments. It means giving my sadness a rightful voice, listening to it, and allowing it to birth experiences i need in my life.” – Kelly Rae Roberts, Brave in Sadness, Brave in Love
In short, it’s okay to not be okay. I’m aiming to find a balance where I’m not forcing myself to be okay, but I’m also not wallowing in my perceived failure. I doubt I’ll ever perfect any of this, but it’s worth it to try.
IN OTHER NEWS….
- I learned to knit! A friend of mine taught me, and I think this was something that was genuinely good timing. It’s relaxing and repetitive. Only problem is, the knitting world is HUGE. So many terms to learn, tools, and projects. It’s overwhelming, and for someone like me, who cannot half-ass anything, I want to learn it all right now. I need patience. One thing at a time, self. I’ve started a scarf for my mother, check it out:
- I’m thinking that, if I get another pet, maybe it’ll be a dog? I’m emotionally all over the place after losing my Java, so I realize this could be me trying to fill the Java-shaped hole in my heart. It’s only been a month since he passed, so I’m not going to seriously consider anything for another two months at least. But it’s on my mind, and I wonder if it would even be an option since I live alone. It’s something to think about, at least. Anyone have a dog and live alone? Send me advice.
That’s it for now. I want to save other tidbits for future posts, so that’s all you get for today. I hope you eat chocolate until you puke.