Sincerely, A Lover Girl who no longer believes in Love

I never wanted my past to change me

I never wanted to become jaded and look at love as something,

daunting and unattainable

I swore my negative experiences with romance, would never alter my

ability to give and receive love

But, as optimistic and beautiful, as it sounds, they were words spoken

out of naivety; A sentiment I would never stand by today.

It's quite close to inevitable to avoid the hardening that comes with a

lost love.

The paranoia that follows betrayal, the resistance and reluctance that

becomes a prerequisite

I've learned to embrace it. In fact, I think I'd be doing myself a

disservice not to.

I'd even go as far to say that remaining too steadfast in the ideals of

love and how society says a woman must be in order to receive it, can

very quickly lead women down a slippery slope toward a victim

mentality. Different story.

Anyway, there are two sides to every pendulem.

You can absolutely take things a step toooo far in the name of self

preservation and completely sequester yourself away from the joy that

is love. Like me. That would be a mistake. I personally do not think

there’s anything more beautiful than the intertwining between two

beings; witnessing it, experiencing it first hand, feeling it… true

unadulterated, genuine love is a sight to see in all its forms.

Romantically, platonically, or familially… A love that is pure is electric;

we are at our core energetic entities that are best fueled by the fire that

is connection. Earthly, we are animals, mammals that thrive in packs. It

is literally not enough to rely solely on self-love, and in my case

impossible. I am unable to love myself without loving all of those

around me. I am a myriad of everyone I have ever loved. I am nothing if

not the love child of my experiences.

I know that love is real, because I am full of it.

I loved love. I loved deep. I loved hard. With every fiber in my being.

There is nothing someone I love could not ask me for. With my words,

my actions, my decisions, if you were loved by me, you knew. Tears well

in my eyes at the solitary thought of a loved one.

And yet, hell has no fury like a woman scorned.

Life and love have both reared their ugly heads at me many a times

I bled around sharks and slept with snakes

I forced myself to burn bridges, I learned to hide my hand

Rolled up my problems and sipped on my sorrow

I still wore a heart on my sleeve. It just wasn’t mine.

It was a decoy filled with lies and lust; I hid who I was behind smoke

and mirrors until my reflection took shape of someone incapable ofbeing hurt.

While I’m a passionate and emotional woman, in the sense that every

emotion I feel, I feel it deeply and intensely, I am also a very logical

person, out of necessity. Especially in times of internal confusion.

Things. Have. To. Make. Sense. As soon as I come to a ‘logical

conclusion’ for my emotional problem, I must go with it no matter how

disconnected I may truly feel or how opposite it is from what I want.

To many, this is ideal, and not a problem. But for me, it is the result of

no longer feeling capable of trusting my gut feeling. Life is not meant to

solely rely on logic as logic is simply a concept. Your emotions and feelings are

just as valid deciding factors as ‘logic’

, given you’re standing on solid

ground. However, the emotional turmoil I have experienced has shaken

my equilibrium to its core; prohibiting me from presenting and acting as

who I am and instead projecting who I feel I need to be to be safe.

When I first lost Love, I went through almost all seven stages of grief.

Shocked and in denial that I felt that way I did. Surely, I had not allowed

others actions to sour love, something innately and inherently mine.

Angry, that I had somehow managed to be undeserving of what found

everyone else so easily. I psycho analyzed my childhood and let the

what if’s flood my ears until I floated back to anger. I, for the first time,

developed hate in my heart. It was the depression, that brought clarity.

What had I allowed myself to become? Me, post-Love hid herself from the

world, dimmed every light and found solace in the shadows.

Emotionally unavailable, avoidant and isolated. I had successfully walled

myself off from the outside world and I had no idea how dark I’d let it

get; until I emerged from the darkness!

A spring chicken; equipped with all her self love,

deteriorating people skills.

‘healing’ andShe got her proverbial fucking neck snapped.

As it turns out, you cannot heal alone. You have no way of knowing how

much you’ve grown until your triggers, are triggered.

I hadn’t strengthened myself to the point of no pain, I’d just avoided

anything pain could come from. The weaknesses I was sure I had

eradicated were amplified by the idea of “regression”, as I gawked over

the realization that there is no love without pain. I hadn’t opened myself

up to outside love by pouring so much into myself. I’d just allowed

myself to become selfish; claiming my presence as mine and mine

alone, siphoning love from people who’d poured into me for decades. I

found myself very quickly, losing my grip on who I was and who I

wanted to be and falling deeply into, a cold shell. I was suddenly very

aware that I needed to change self-defense tactics.

My brain and my mind‘s only concern are keeping me safe and alive.

Love is my heart’s journey and my heart‘s journey alone. Reframing the

rules I so painstakingly set to keep myself protected in the name of the

risk that is love is not done in a day. I’m not open to falling in love

today, and I won’t be tomorrow. I am however, no longer willing to allow

the past to define how I show up in the present. Day by day, colors

appear brighter and clearer as the gloom I lived under dissipates with

each instance of joy.

I’m a work in progress, but I think maybe one day soon

I’ll believe in love again.