A Joyful Firehose

I told a man that I loved him recently and I meant it.  I blurted it out while we were laying in bed laughing and talking, after a night of listening to albums curled up on the couch with some wine and a dinner we made together, and a year of growing closer and closer.  After hours of talking about our life, it just felt right.  We were rolling around naked, being silly and I stopped him and said “I have to tell you something.”

Then it all came running out of my face-hole in a blur.

I have loved this man for months, maybe since day one.  He is one of the most kind, thoughtful, sweet and loving men I have ever met.  He makes me feel calm inside, happy, light and always taken care of.  I trust him more than anyone else I know with my heart.  I feel love towards him stronger than I think I ever did for my ex-husband or any man before.  It’s a quiet, mature, peaceful, trusting love with no drama or hard to resolve misunderstandings or conflict.  It’s completely new to me, it’s full of hard work and it’s fantastic.

So why do I feel like telling him I loved him wasn’t big enough?  Like I didn’t say it right?  Like there is still some guarded piece of me that refuses to give up the armor?

I broke another rule of mine, I wouldn’t say those 3 words first again.  A man can say it to me first.  With some of these rules though?  A huge part of me thinks my brain needs to shut the fuck up occasionally.  I overthink everything to make sure I’m “doing it right.”  It is the most frustrating thing about myself, other than how easy the hail damage shows on my thighs.  I told him I loved him because I love him.  Why is that so weird, self?

Sure I could write it off as the bullshit anxiety which stems from a very long childhood of absent biological fathers and shitty step-fathers, not feeling whole, always waiting for the shoe to drop, etc. but I’m not going there now.  We ALL know what that does to people, there are songs written about it by John Mayer for Christ sake.  It’s real and it’s long lasting and it sucks.  While I’m sympathetic to people not being provided with the right skills, I also want to say a loud: FUCK YOU shitty parents for the trauma you cause with your selfishness and this goes to the parents before you too that caused you to be that way.

Another part of me thinks I’m guarded because I do not deserve to find this kind of love because of things I’ve done in my past.  I cheated on my ex-husband and I cheated on boyfriends before that.  I callously and coldly did what I did because I couldn’t bring myself to have the balls to deal with the current situation, so I went the lazy way.  I got what I needed from someone else.  I hurt a lot of people, including my self esteem.  And I know that no matter what they were doing to me, even cruelly, I should have never taken the lower road.  Ever.

I am a person who cheats or I should say I was a person who cheated.  I have not totally accepted this yet.  I mean, I accept the responsibility for what I did and put in place things in my life that make sure it does not happen again.  But some part of me feels like I’m just keeping that inevitable monster at bay for now.  That I’ll find myself swept up again in that drama completely out of my control. 

Like my body is going to get up in the middle of the night and sleep walk into an adulterous affair without my soul’s consent.  Yes, I’m probably nuts.  Another way of looking at it?  Perhaps the armor I feel is what is holding this monster in the dungeon.

I know I wear that scarlet A to this day.  But as Bebe says, experiences like that leave a psychic scar but it’s a consequence, not a punishment.  I should cross-stitch this on a pillow.

So what do we do with all of these experiences?  These scars in the shape of: divorce, affairs, bad relationships, bad choices?  Take inventory of what we know?

What I know is I am now a much stronger person than I was.  I did a shit load of introspection and work over the past 2 years that I am proud of and I know what needs to be done to be happy. I choose not to be a cheater again, to others or myself.  I don’t only choose, I refuse.  My self worth and self esteem have climbed more than I can properly describe.  Self worth makes it impossible to cheat, I should rest on these laurels.  I’m a way more open communicator in my present relationships.

I also know there are still some areas I can improve and that might be part of this too.  For instance, there are a few major issues I need to talk with this man I love about that I haven’t found the balls yet.  Maybe it’s time to remedy that to drop a few plates of this armor because it’s bringing back a ton of unresolved fears of that monster from the deep.  If I have these conversations that monster can go find a new home.

A very smart co-editor of this blog told me once: “Never regret sharing joy, no matter the outcome or people’s reaction to it.  We need joy in our lives.”  She may have also added in an “asshole” at the end, but hey, the gist of the message is clear.

I have no idea where I’m going and what I’m doing ultimately but I’m going to try to stop worrying about it being perfect. I’m going to start spreading joy and this includes to myself.  I will be joyful if I am honest with everyone, including me.

And honestly, I love this man.



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