“Today I had a conversation with my true self. She asked me why I had
abandoned her, why I had ignored all her constant advice. And then she
reminded me of all the things I had forgotten. And never once did she
say, “I told you so.” – Monique Duval
I’ve spent a lot of time looking in the mirror lately: do I know who I am anymore? I lost little pieces of my self along the way to this place I’m at now. Actually, lost is the wrong word. Gave. I gave them away, willingly, hastily, in efforts to sustain this love, this life, I saw slipping away. And so I tried to be someone I wasn’t – a little more sophisticated, a little more domestic, a little more whatever-it-was-I-thought-he-was-looking-for – and in the process I gradually stopped being me. And so it is no wonder that we failed to connect any longer. It's difficult to nurture an intimate relationship when one of the participants is essentially missing... It's more difficult to crawl out of the wreckage, find a sturdy foothold, with such a diluted sense of self.
I’ve spent a lot of time looking in the mirror lately: do I know who I am anymore? I lost little pieces of my self along the way to this place I’m at now. Actually, lost is the wrong word. Gave. I gave them away, willingly, hastily, in efforts to sustain this love, this life, I saw slipping away. And so I tried to be someone I wasn’t – a little more sophisticated, a little more domestic, a little more whatever-it-was-I-thought-he-was-looking-for – and in the process I gradually stopped being me. And so it is no wonder that we failed to connect any longer. It's difficult to nurture an intimate relationship when one of the participants is essentially missing... It's more difficult to crawl out of the wreckage, find a sturdy foothold, with such a diluted sense of self.
I began finding my self again the same way I sent her off, in bits and pieces, stashed away in cardboard boxes. A half-written poem, an old beloved sweater, a forgotten photo I had cherished and taken off the wall. And suddenly, there she was, all sass and stubbornness and confidence, a chatty, dancing, jeans-and-t-shirt wearing me.
We are becoming one and the same again, growing more sturdy every day. It's refreshing to feel like myself, invigorating just to be comfortable in my own skin again. And I have learned not to give her away, not to sacrifice the person who will always know me best, speak up for me loudest, hold on fiercely to my dreams and passions.
I am a dancer, a writer, a philosopher, a lover - eternally flawed and fallible, but always, for better or worse, me.
I think that when you stop being yourself in a relationship it will inevitably fail or you will eventually be a miserable person. I think it's difficult to realize that you are at that point and once you finally do realize it you have to figure out what to do. Fixing things is pretty much impossible and the thought of leaving that comfort zone is terrifying. That being said once you are out and finally yourself again it's amazing. Once you find that person who let's you be you it's even better. It will happen, I promise, but it's not always a quick journey.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Danny. I can always count on you for support. These days I just try to learn from my past mistakes and screw up in totally different ways. haha!
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