I have done so much work on myself the last few months. I’ve learned to know my worth, I’ve learned to name what I want in a relationship, I’ve learned to know what I want to work on in myself. I’ve learned about my triggers and my patterns. And I’ve found new ways of being.
I’ve also learned that I can only get so far on my own, and eventually I need to practice with someone else. At first, that realization was thrilling – ‘oh goodie, I get to practice with someone else! That will be so fun and good for me!’
And then I got to practice with someone else….
Turns out that ‘practice’ really just means messy and all sorts of feelings and sometimes hard and lots of times really great, and always all about courage.
Whew…. that’s a lot.
And, so, my practice has been tough. And when it’s tough, it’s really tough. And when it’s tough, it turns out that I go straight to my head and start spiraling out. I create stories and become narrow in my views. I end up doing more damage to myself than is healthy, really.
And so, I went there last week. It was bad. I cried and it hurt. I blamed myself and couldn’t see straight.
And then, I realized…. I’m still me. I’m still imperfectly perfect, or is that perfectly imperfect? Sure, I can be short-tempered, but I am also loving and loyal. And I can be a bit sulky, but I am also funny and kind. And for every negative quality, I have at least a few good qualities.
But, beyond that… D and I might end things, in fact, they will probably end when he leaves the country. And I’ll still be me.
If I am smart and thoughtful, I will be an even better version of me. And even if I’m not always smart and thoughtful, I will still be a great version of me. His feelings towards me don’t change that.
I’ll always be me. Sweet, glorious, imperfectly perfect (perfectly imperfect?) me.