I have heard this, a lot. Way more in fact that was likely warranted...ok, that isn’t true. It was warranted.
Yes, that is the whole fucking problem, I did see the red flags and I thought it was a carnival.
Kidding. I knew it was going to be way less fun than a carnival.
And I was right. Every. Single. Time.
So why the fuck would someone who is smart, way smarter than her dating history would suggest, go forward in a relationship with someone who was literally the King, Lord, God of Red Flags?
Because that is how hard I was trying to love and be loved.
Ok, I think this might be the blog that ends NRT. I mean, can I really own that and continue? I don’t really want to. Feels like this could just be my swan song, mic drop and then I just take up an assumed identity somewhere else...maybe Talulah Fitzgerald or Zoë Hemingway and start all over.
But no, I am just going to own some painful shit and continue to live this life of mine and you are totally allowed to stop reading or listening or caring. Judge all you want. I am over here doing a lot of fucking heavy lifting. Say what you will. And I have become quite strong after all that heavy fucking lifting.
I have habitually ignored the red flags out of arrogance. That is probably the first humble admission. I thought I was so different that I could achieve a love and loving that others before me could not. I will tell you the last fucker knocked all that hyped up “specialness” right outta my head. Nope. When you date someone who targets people, all you can ever be is a target. Fuck.
So after arrogance and that not being one of my finer qualities, in walks one of my finer attributes: I see the good in people. All of them. When I used to do criminal law, I always found the good and redeemable in some of the most loathsome individuals. It was what made me a particularly good attorney. When you stand up in front of the judge and make arguments and statements about a Defendant, they are much more persuasive when you actually believe them. And while I didn’t always completely believe it all, I did see something good and human and salvageable in everyone. No exceptions.
And this would be why I dated men that were sketchy and suspect. I saw the good and when I locked in and on, it was all I saw in them. Their good qualities were magnified 100 fold and their shitty baser shit was diminished in equal regard. So this person who was really not worth my time, became worth it because my mind told me they were redeemable and salvageable. We will call this Trap Numero Uno.
And I can tell you after my last debacle, I can now see the good, and work hard to accentuate the bad so that I am reminded to not ever allow someone’s “potential” to lure me into the abyss that is a relationship with them. Lesson learned. I know about fucking time, but I learned it.
Lesson Numero Dos was harder to discern and almost impossible for me to admit (thus the name change and subversive relocation plan). I have ignored the red flags because I was seeking validation and love and was so hungry for that that I was willing to accept the initial love bombing and promises that were never fulfilled or kept to lure me into a relationship that would always be one-sided, dishonest and full of gaslights that would light the way to my own demise.
You aren’t here right now but if you were, you would see my ego stamping all around my bedroom throwing the biggest fucking fit about what I just wrote. She is ranting and raving that I should just shut the fuck up and delete all of that. She is such a drama queen.
So let me get this out before she comes and rips my computer out from under me: I have sought (in all the wrong places) love and acceptance and adoration and being seen from all the wrong people. And I ignored all those alarming, flapping red flags because I just needed something quite desperately that I was not getting. And so when something that seemed like it on the barest of surfaces...I jumped at it. I was trying so hard to be loved. So fucking hard.
There is also an element that I threw myself into these lost causes and losers because there was a level of safety in all the inequity and danger...if you can see the ending in the beginning, it is safe to love all I want or can because it will never survive, it will never last and that doesn’t impinge on my freedom, something that I prize more than anything I can think of when you look at my behavior. It looks bad going in, so I am safe to go all in because it will end in a fiery crash that I saw coming all the time. If I am right (and so far I have been right 100% of the time) then I got exactly what I thought I would. And if I am wrong (and so far that has been exactly 0% of the time) then I am free to move on and about my life unencumbered by a love that feels like a trap. The dubious lose/lose that is thinly disguised as a win/win.
Yes, I know, you are probably shaking your head and wondering what the actual fuck is wrong with me. A lot as it turns out. But I will tell you way less than there used to be. I am working on this red flag warning bullshit every single day. It is temporal and present and I am highly aware! And I am in therapy and doing all the things I can do to own that which is mine to own and then begin, ever so slightly to change the way I relate, the way I love and the way I do this whole relationship business.
I may always be this fucked up. But I don’t think so. I have made such amazing strides if you could see where I started. I won’t belabor the point, just trust me when I tell you that I used to be way more fucked up and my relational life was a much bigger shit show. If you want to see the scars, well, you can’t. Unless you too are an empath and then I am sure you see my scars every time you see me. And if you aren’t an empath you likely don’t give two fucks about me and my scars.
So I got to this place where I love the wrong people, ignoring all their glittery, brightly waving crimson flags because I see so much good in others...all the others. But more because I so desperately wanted someone to pay attention and care and love me. I was trying so hard to be loved that I was making horrible choices and created my own destruction and pain repeatedly.
The antidote, and I am sure you are all hoping there is one for me and for everyone else that loves too much and all the wrong people, is that you have stop picking up the losers with the mile long list of issues they are not addressing and just leave it alone. That is Rule Numero Uno!
Rule Numero Dos is that you have to give all that love you are seeking from others to yourself. And I promise you if you do that the others and all their "love" become almost immaterial. I have a life today where I do love me. I am still working at the dating and loving and showing up vulnerably and authentically. And it will always be a fuckton of work for me but I am doing it, goddammit.
But I learned, through firestorm and hail fire, to love myself in the process. To have my own back and give myself all the love and acceptance and attention and good vibes. I love me first and then maybe I can find one of you fuckers that can love me back without making me feel like I am trapped and smothered. Maybe not, but I know this is my work to do. And the way I show up today is way better than the way I have showed up before. And I am in the primary position, giving love to myself and not seeking it from you all the damn time.
Now I see the red flags and while I can still acknowledge the allure, the excitement, the titallation, I decide that is a cost I cannot afford to spend. And I can remind myself one more fucking time, it was never them that dragged me down, I descended, always.
And once you see your part in our own suffering, you must do the work to alleviate it because otherwise you are just your own victim and that seems like a very big waste of a life and love and living.
So this is my work. And you have yours. And perhaps, if you have any love for me and all my injuries and hurts, you might now find compassion where previously there was only judgment and disdain. Ok, maybe not. But this whole loving and living process has grown me up and out. And I have become a person who is no longer willing to waste herself on the shores of some idiot with all kinds of issues and shit they are unwilling or unable to deal with...I have out grown the attraction of the dumpster fire...despite all the pretty waving flags.
It was a good day indeed when I realized the dumpster fire does provide heat...but in the end, trash, when it is burned is smelly, disgusting and rancid. And there are much better ways to light your soul on fire than to stand at the edges of someone else's self destruction and watch it burn.
You can start your own fucking fire on the debris of your own wasteland and clean that shit up instead. And the warmth you get from this is life affirming, capable of producing lasting results and smells like a field of fucking lavender...
When we do our work, the whole world benefits but no one benefits more than our bodies, minds and souls.
Again...still.
Always.
Comentários