If you return to what burnt you, you can’t expect to be healed.
It’s been the longest stretch that I’ve gone without actually “talking” to the person that temporarily ruined me. The person that ruined me was “that guy” that I wrote about so many times in the past. While I find myself as far away from the girl I used to be, I look back not with sadness as I lost myself in the process. But I now look back with a strong sense of confidence. I reflect back upon those times with a smile, knowing I’ve become partly the woman I am one day destined to be. I know that I’m meant to be a strong woman with a vivacious smile, a love for life, and a heart that overflows with love for everything and everyone. I know that I’m to be appreciated, profoundly loved by a man for those things and not looked at as if I’m crazy.
It wasn’t by personal choice that things went sour with me and “that guy”. It was much rather after a sequence of unfortunate misunderstandings and being treated in such a way that I eventually developed the understanding of what it was that I deserved, and most certainly what I did not.
If you’d have asked me a little over a year ago if I would ever give him another chance, I’d laugh in your face and say “no way”, which was nothing more than a bold face lie. At one point in time I would’ve given him every chance in the world. And if you ask my friends, they would tell you I did. I gave him every opportunity under the sun to make things right, to treat me right. Time and time again, I’d let him back in after hurting me again, every time he’d hurt me a little bit more than the time before.
As this behavior continued I realized that I had in fact lost myself and was giving someone parts of my heart that he did not deserve, let alone earn. I told myself perhaps this kept happening because I was built for it. I was tough enough to withstand it. I was able to repair myself each and every time and love him a little bit more after every time he left me hanging. I told myself if I could overcome the difficulties just one more time that maybe he’d respect me the following time. I told myself that maybe he’d think about how wonderful of a girl he was jeopardizing forever with and get his act together. But the fact of the matter was, was not that I was capable of healing myself. I was more than capable of healing myself, over and over again. It was easy for me to love him more each time. I was more than able to forgive. I was pretty good at trying to forget. But what I was truly awful at, was loving myself enough to know the difference.
You see, I LOVED myself for being that one person that could brush things off and give people who clearly didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, another shot. I’d create excuses for scenarios that ended up in wrongdoings to me. I’d paint this perfect picture of strength for the outside world to see, while secretly my heart was an overworked, lifeless and dull canvas. My heart that was once so vibrant and beautiful turned into something I even had a tough time recognizing.
While, I still believe in seeing the beauty in every person, no matter how ugly their actions may sometimes be, and even seeing light in the darkest of situations, it is with a varied perspective. It is with the belief that while I still affirm people are good and that I do in fact have the power to heal myself, I know that I’m worth a lot more than ever returning to what made my smile a little less vibrant, my heart feel anything but empowered, and my appreciation for life minimal at best.
You see, I know now that I was everything he could have wanted, in every sense of the word. But I wasn’t what I needed. I needed to become a person whose happiness didn’t rely on how happy I could make someone else. I HAD to become the person whose happiness relied on how happy I could make myself, by myself. I learned that it would never be in the arms of the person who broke my heart or in the arms of anyone else, that I would find the solace or courage to reinvent myself. It was truly only from within that, that would ever be possible.
Therefore, it is with great certainty that I can conclude, despite knowing I was dancing with the devil and having survived previous burns—
going back to what burnt you can never truly heal you.