It's been almost 2 years since I last visited this blog, much less write in it. I thought I had moved on and was too good for it. So, I actively ignore it despite the many times I would have benefitted from having this space for myself.
Last year, I moved to a big city for a year-long internship, where I experienced an entire year of diversity, night life, excitement, and constant stimulation. I imagined a life of active dating, romance, and I was certain, I was absolutely certain that I would be meeting the love of my life and living happily ever after.
Boy, was I wrong.
I was miserable last year, yet I did not write in this journal or any other journal. I refused. I stubbornly believed that writing it meant accepting it, and I did not want to admit how disappointing, nay, how devastating the year turned out to be. I had been so positive that I would be done with heartache, sadness, and pain. I wanted nothing more than to move on from this blog and its topic. I
Well, I partially succeeded because I put myself out there and dated a whole lot.
But I was also miserable almost all of the time.
Last year = roller coaster year of emotions. Partly, it was my unreal expectations. The other part was that the men I dated did not believe in anything other than immediate gratification. Put those 2 together and it was instant heartache for me. INSTANT. CONSTANT. REPETITIVE.
The trouble with every one of those relationships was that I was leaving their city, and I had to believe I would meet the one who would change my life forever. My one-year internship was just that: one year. I knew I would likely leave and re-locate elsewhere. I just didn't know how quickly the offer would come, and whether I would take it. When I received an offer to work in a community that is rural, less progressive, less exciting, and less desirable-- I was tortured. Love life or career life? Stay and pursue the unknown by following my heart or following what is reasonable, logical, realistic, and necessary for both financial survival as well as my own career plan. I secretly hoped I'd meet my knight in shining armor and he would tell me what to do. I wanted him to say stay! Because the truth is, I would have. If someone had asked me.
No one asked me. So, I wrote pros/cons lists. I consulted with friends, colleagues, mentors, teachers, advisers, therapists, and even fortune-tellers. I cried. A lot. I contemplated not making any decision altogether. In fact, I spent a lot of time under the comforter pretending reality did not exist. In the end, I decided to leave and take my current position. Goodbye city, hello village (OK, I exaggerate-- ruralville, not village). Still, it was one of the most challenging decisions of my life, and yet I knew that I had to pursue what is realistic and within my control. My career is dependable and I understand it far more than any relationship or love life.
Well, once I knew I was leaving, the dating experience-- which was just starting-- began to plummet and spiral for the remainder of the year. Dating became anxiety-provoking. On date 1 or at least 2, I would have to tell them the truth. My personality called for this kind of openness and also the men I dated often wanted to know my future plans. Hearing the word "internship" naturally led them to question: what are you doing afterwards? And upon hearing my news that I would be leaving, the blood would literally drain out of their faces while they tried to compose themselves to act polite, accepting, and open to the possibility of continuing to date me. No one wanted to date me after that, but still, I held on, clinging to the hope that one of them could be mr. right.
One guy strung me along all 7 months that we knew each other and broke my heart in small increments over his hot-and-cold attitude. Another guy insisted I was the love of his life and yet his behaviors never matched his words (e.g., inconsistent texts, last-minute cancelled dates, no time to see me-- ever). The last guy was a was so kind and warm that I mistook him for a friend. I (or we) missed the timing to be something more and when I eventually realized my feelings and poured my heart out to him, he no longer had those feelings for me and said we missed the boat.
Tears. I cried so many tears last year over 3 specific boys. In a city as large as the one I was in, I never felt as lonely as I did, or as insignificant to so many people.
And now? Having moved to this small rural community where I constantly feel an absence of diversity, city life, or anything remotely cool, I have met and am dating an amazing guy who makes my heart soar. (More on him, later, I promise!)
Isn't it ironic that when I moved here a few months ago, I had decided to give up on pursuing a love life, much being in one?
With my 2 year hiatus behind me, I am now wise enough to return to this blog to face myself honestly and admit that I was at my lowest point last year. I am finally willing to confront how last year was. I am now able to reflect on how painful that year was, and to want to learn from those experiences.
Despite the fear that arises from deep in my stomach, I'd also like to be honest about my current relationship and to sit with the anxieties that erupt out of me. This relationship is the healthiest relationship I have ever been in. It is so good that I am terrified. My stomach flips when I use the word "relationship" because prior experiences suggest that it will only go downhill. Because of these instinctual reactions, I know that it's time to return to writing-- for me, for the collective us that feel these pains, for whoever can benefit from my inner angst. Whatever happens in these relationships-- good or bad, I challenge myself to myself to write again and to accept vulnerability again.
Welcome back, me. It's time to dig deep again.
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