Over dinner one night we discussed the idea of weakness. We found it funny that we had both come to associate it with dependence. Needing something was weakness. Needing someone was weakness. The opposite of weakness was independence.
Which was funny only because we are two smart women who know that isn't at all true. But as she so wisely pointed out, knowing something and feeling something are two very different things indeed.
I cannot speak for her, only for me, but for most of my life, I've felt that being independent was everything, being independent guaranteed me freedom, being independent made me strong. And so I've spent the vast majority of my life trying to claim that independence, trying to prove to the world and to myself that I could handle everything on my own, that I could do it all myself, that I didn't need help from anyone.
And instead of finding freedom, I simply ended up putting myself on this little island and calling it independence. As though that were something real. As though that somehow proved my strength. When in fact, all it did was isolate me. So I stand here on this island. I watch boats pass by and say nothing. Because that way being stranded can be my choice instead of something that's happened to me. Maybe I've spent these last few years preparing myself for a lifetime of loneliness. Maybe I've somehow always felt that was inevitable. Maybe that's why I so often feel alone.
I am never closer to a person than when they reach out to me, ask something of me, share with me something real. I never love a person more than when they open their life and invite me in. And yet, somehow, I'm unable to do the same. I can love almost anyone who enters my life so whole heartedly, and yet I have never let anyone do the same for me. I have never let anyone love me the way that they want to, the way that they claim I deserve to be loved. It is how I protect myself. It is how I guard my heart.
And I know that it's illogical, but again, knowing it and feeling it are two very different things indeed. I could so easily blame my family history, the five divorces in the past three generations. I could so easily claim that it's my loss of faith in relationships that makes me keep my distance from love. But the truth is, it's so much more than that.
It's about loving myself, something I have not yet learned to do for even the slightest of moments. I have loved my life, yes, but never fully loved who I was within it. It is that self doubt, that knowledge of all versions of myself, that fear that someone will discover all of the unloveable parts of me that keeps me from ever letting anyone in. It is fear. It is doubt. I am scared of my own truths.
I am scared that when I reach out, it will prove my weakness. I am scared that becoming dependent on someone that way will only mean the loss of knowing how to survive without them. I am scared of losing my independence. I am as scared to not be alone as I am to be alone.
And I am scared that because of that I will spend my entire life on this small island, calling it independence, as I watch those little boats float further and further out to sea.
3 comments:
You have such a wonderful way of writing about your feelings. It's almost like being in a conversation with you.
It took me far too long to learn that courage is not lack of fear, it's facing fear. I have a good 40 years on you and I can assure you that though there is the risk of pain inherent every time you love, whether yourself or someone else, there is also the chance of great joy. What is the point in not loving yourself? What do you gain? Try asking yourself what you think would happen if you didn't feel that loving yourself was impossible, or at the very least, unlikely. You might enjoy learning the Option Method of questioning and answering. Here's the website.
http://www.optionmethodnetwork.com/
i believe the insight you reveal in your writings is exactly why you will never be content to live in isolation. you see, frankie, after you know something, after the seed is planted, you can never return to the place of innocence or blindness. you have already begun to free yourself by taking the blinders off. the questions you ask, the discussions you have with yourself will be your ticket off the island and into the fulfilling life you deserve and want.
I wasn’t sure how to interpret this post until your last sentence - …”as I watch those little boats float further and further out to sea.”
I found myself in this situation several months ago, quite literally, while watching my kayak float out to sea after stopping to explore a small island alone. My choices were either A) to risk freezing to death or drowning by swimming after it, or B) to stay safe on land and count on my friends to come after me. While I don’t know if the feeling of complete helplessness and distress that I felt then might be similar to what you write about now, I do know that I made the right decision – to stay safe and wait; and I have a feeling that if you do the same, your friends will come for you too.
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