She was the innocent child thrown out to the wolves and learnt to crave his knife to lead the pack instead. Adventure was her snowflake that beckoned her to come out and play. Through the looking glass at the end of the tunnel she stood; taking her breath away was the last thing on his mind. She was never his or her own. She belonged to something far too unknown. She detested recycled stories of boy-meets-girl. Yet, she got entangled in his dream catcher and all she could do was stare. Weak men ran away from her cause they lacked the strength to fix the broken. He was a fixer and knew exactly how many and where the stitches go!
I know you have tried and that you have been hurt. I know that feeling inside you wanting to give it another shot but at the same time, wondering if it is worth it. You start to think he does not care enough about you because if he does, he would have said something by now. He would have put in the effort and made it undeniably obvious that he wanted you despite what happened. You would have received that text or call you have been waiting for as you endlessly check your phone.
In silence, you realize that you want this to work with everything that’s within you. You want to love him and all that you ever ask in return, is for him to take care of your heart. Yet somehow, when you start to love someone so much, they see it in the way you act and the way you look at them. They know. They start to think you will never leave followed by a string of actions that suggest he is taking your love for granted.
At first, you make excuses for his actions because you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. After several occasions, you realize that you have made too much compromises and have been let down way too many times for you to count. You find yourselves stuck between trying harder or letting it all go because you will hurt either way. You struggle all night to decide between following your heart or following your mind.
Then you picked up the phone and dialed his number at 4am because you can’t take it no more. You need to know what he is thinking. You want to know if he is just as restless as you are. And then it happened, he picked it up but there is something different about the way he speaks it was half-hearted. You hung up, tired and broken. You’re thinking to yourself “Is loving someone supposed to be this difficult?”
As the sun rises, you eventually come to a painful realization that he is taking your love for granted. Yet, with your broken heart, you text him for closure. You choose yourself over love because you know you have given it your all. You choose yourself over love because you loved with all of your heart. You choose yourself over love because you know you did everything you could have done to make it work.
Your phone rings. You look down to a preview of regretful messages but they are a little too late. Your heart is broken. You choose yourself over love because you know your golden heart is too precious to be wasted on someone who fails to see it.
The feelings rush into your heart as fast as gasoline setting on fire. It has been too long since you’ve felt this way and it burns deep. You try to play it cool as much as possible, but you’re the type to wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s inevitable – the wants, the needs, the desires.
Everyone tells you to let him come to you. At this age though, why is that still a thing? You’re over the games, you’ve dealt with being alone and you’ve experienced love followed by heartbreak. You know what you want and that shouldn’t be your fault.
The days you’re together are magical, and the nights those lead into are a fairytale. You start getting to know everything about each other. Staying up until 4 am asking and answering every question imaginable becomes routine. He gives no indication you’re moving to fast, no sign of turning back, no thought of wanting to slow down.
Then there come the nights he wants nothing to do with you. You’ve discussed the whole communicating thing and expressing feelings. You’ve had endless talks about your sensitivity and your neediness. At the time, he believes “it’s cute”, “it’s endearing”, but in reality, its pushing him away-until he’s gone.
Feelings of insecurity and hopelessness surround your brain. Second guessing yourself becomes a daily activity. Why isn’t he inviting me out with his friends? Why doesn’t he want to constantly spend time with me? Why doesn’t he try to go above and beyond? You’re used to being the pursued not the one pursuing and it’s killing you.
How is it fair that because feelings overwhelm your brain and because you acknowledge them, you’re in the wrong? I want a love that is pure and magical but apparently that is too much to handle.
I’m an independent woman. I am strong, I am smart, I am outgoing but all of that combined with knowing what I want, is against society’s norms. I am not allowed to express how I feel, I am crazy if I am too interested in someone, I am needy if I want to see the person I like multiple times a week.
I can’t control it though. I deserve a person that doesn’t just “handle” me but truly wants me. I deserve to not only feel happiness from myself but also from my partner. While some might think that’s too much to ask, it shouldn’t be.
I’m learning not to force things to happen.
I’m learning to just let them be, to let them align with my life when the time is right, to the let the universe bring them to me without having to run after them; because if you have to run after something, it means that it doesn’t want to stand still, it doesn’t want to be caught, it doesn’t want to stop at your door. I’m trusting God that what’s meant for me will eventually find me no matter where I am. I’m not going to be passive but I also won’t fight a losing battle.
I’m learning to let love find me.
I’m learning to stop decoding messages and mixed signals and signs and wait for the clear message, the message that is so obvious and easy to understand, the message that doesn’t make you question or second guess anything and the message that you’re truly waiting for.
I’m learning to let those who don’t want me in their lives go, I might even hold the door open for them because I don’t want temporary visitors anymore, I don’t want to share my bed with someone doesn’t want to spend every night with me and I won’t share my heart with someone who doesn’t want to protect it. I’m learning to let love find me when it’s real, when it’s simple, when it’s mutual and when it’s passionate.
I’m learning to be patient with myself.
I’m learning to take it easy on myself and my plans. I’m learning to be kind to myself when I slip-up and patient enough to make my dreams come true. I’m learning to forgive myself for my mistakes and let them be memories instead of labels. I’m learning to let these mistakes prove that I’ve tried for things that weren’t right for me, that I didn’t always play it safe, that I went for things I was unsure of and that I took chances.
I’m taking the wisdom I got from all these mistakes; the wisdom that taught that mistakes often happen because we are forcing something that is not meant for us and we are trying to get something we probably shouldn’t have.
I’m learning to stop trying so hard to control my life.
I’m learning that it is okay if I don’t have all the answers or if I’m not where I want to be. I’m learning to let life take its course instead of trying to steer the wheel in another direction. I’m learning that I won’t always get what I want but life will give me what I need. I’m learning to treat life as a friend; trying to understand it, trying to love it when it’s difficult, trying to accept it even when it’s frustrating me and trying to appreciate the experiences it has provided me with, the memories it gave me, the laughter it brought me and the sadness it put me through just to grow.
I’m learning to let things be and I’m learning to look at life as a person; a person who is also still trying to figure it out, a person who is flawed and a person who wants to be better on most days but falls short on other days like everyone else.
I’m learning to let the force of life move me instead of forcing it to stop.
This is the art of ‘Something Borrowed’.
I recently saw an advertisement for a popular jewellery brand in India that caught my muse and I must say, I was thoroughly impressed.
The concept is simple, a woman is getting ready to receive her young entrepreneur award and is heard giving her “Thank you” speech for it. She starts off by saying that this is the first time she is giving her “thank you” speech and is nervous as she is more prepared for all the “sorry” speeches she’s had to give as an entrepreneur. Then she goes ahead and thanks every person who made the possible for her.
This caused a knot in my stomach and I went on a different trip about it. Hey! I’m allowed to and I am not sorry about this in any way.
As kids, we are taught to be polite and say your please, thank you and sorry with utmost poise and this flows so thick into our blood that it just becomes a reflex moving forward.
I’m sorry (while accidentally running into someone at the street).
I’m sorry I’m late.
I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it to your party/wedding/gathering/catch up/anything social.
I’m sorry I don’t understand you.
I’m sorry I am sick. I’m sorry that I feel sorry.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to meet with you. Thank you for your time.
Thanks and Regards (at the end of every email I have ever sent)
Thank you for the things you dint do or couldn’t do.
I’m sorry I was in a bad mood when I said those things to hurt you. It’s ok I understand. THANK YOU for your understanding.
It’s ok. It’s all ok!
It’s quite hilarious if you see it that we literally live our lives just being sorry and thankful for things that don’t require those words to be used that often and fail to understand the importance of using them where they are necessary. This is how I’ve malfunctioned. In a lot of cases, this is how we have malfunctioned.
I have been sorry for so many things I needn’t be. Why? Cause it’s the shame that people make you feel and apologise for, like I just showed someone my period stained panties.
I am sorry trust me! But there is a difference between sorry I made a mistake and sorry I am a mistake.
Many times, I’ve apologised cause I felt guilty that I was a mistake. I was shamed for making a mistake and thus, I became the mistake. I don’t have wounds to show for this. After apologising for the hurt you caused actually to yourself and not the other person, you don’t get flowers or gifts to get well soon, instead you get “cheer up” and an expectation hanging above you as a sword that you won’t repeat it.
The enemy is invisible here, but like a basic human instinct, we all feel the need to put a face to the enemy. So, the best face forward is YOU. You identify yourself as the problem and not that you may have problems, thus, making yourself the enemy here. Why? You let people shame you, talk you into apologising, say thank you for their understanding and say it’s ok to yourself and move forward. Wow! This is multiple malfunctions in the same sentence to the main protagonist in the story of being SORRY – YOU!
You hear people talk about overcoming and seeking things on TEDx talks and think wow that’s courage. But, do you ever see how much of a shame, apology, weakness blaming and struggle they had to feel until they got up and stood up for it?
During the process of this, imagine the number of times they uttered sorry, thank you for understanding and it’s ok until they decided I am sorry I treated myself that way. Thank you for ensuring that I understood that the process was wrong and not me. It’s OK now that I have chosen to forgive myself for this. They weren’t always courageous, strong or a vision of perfection. They have taken a beating, several times in a day actually. The self care, self loving and self confidence has taken a huge beating every time they have felt the need to apologise, thank or be ok with something that isn’t ok.
This is when they said ENOUGH. Restarted their self care and stood up for themselves. Not charged a battle against others but stood up to be an inspiration to others battling with unsaid words such as what they express in TEDx. I love that their shame is now an inspiration. This is the only place I know in the world that SHAME isn’t negative.
Imagine, if I stood up in a street full of people and screamed with desperation and frustration for a good 2 mins. Break for 1 min and then explain in a another 4 mins how during those earlier 2 mins I was bipolar but conquered it in 1 min break time and here I am talking about it now. I would be branded bipolar, psycho, creep, fucking insane or any one of the other words that have already crept into your mind. SHAME. See negative! But, in a 1080HD pixel screen, your shame is seen as courage, inspiration and mentoring to others.
SORRY. THANK YOU. IT’S OK – These three words when used too often together or separately lead to other words or personality traits as one calls it to be formed.
Regret. People Pleaser. Emotional. Vulnerable. Anger. Anxiety. Sadness. Self Worth. Self destruction. Malfunction. Loser. Over a period of time, you have so many words that begin to cloud your own thoughts that you believe, ‘damn I owe an apology to every one I have wronged. How nice are they to understand me though I was being such an asshole! It’s ok, now I am going to apologise to each and everyone I meet!’
Now, when you are over your head about this and then take a deep breathe and realise this is exhausting. I can’t do this anymore. Make it STOP! I can’t use these words so liberally anymore, you break or to be put in perspective: Find a break through.
You don’t fit in and make limited attempt to fit. You aren’t one in the crowd anymore. Now you’re seen as that person who is in a bad mood all the time, have become detached and are living a life that you really need to feel sorry about. Why? Cause you are being selfish and being sorry, thankful and understanding only about yourself. You are now self obsessed!
These are the things no one tells you about. The damage you caused in real to the people whose routine you have now shaken up when you stopped giving into the 3 societal rules. You meander into your own woods, doing your own thing, picking up sticks and stones like you used to as a kid. This is when the adults damaged you and taught you those 3 words that ruined your life.
Children aren’t my favourite things, yet, they are so carefree and themselves in the truest sense. From fear, greed, lust, materialistic weightage and emotional baggage. They do what they feel. I missed childhood when I began being a adult at the age of 5.
In the process of using grammar and words when necessary; I lost a lot of good people or things and bad ones along the way. I learnt the tricks of my trade, not necessary that everyone uses the same means. You won’t see me give TEDx talks about this.
But, whenever I feel like being sorry – I clean the toilet, cupboards or do laundry. The sense of detergent cleansing my soiled clothing gives me immense orgasmic pleasure.
When I feel like being thankful – I donate. Food, clothes, time, money or whatever I can. I spend time laughing with people I like and I shop with the thankfully extra bucks I have.
When I feel it’s ok – I eat! I engage with food in a way that satiates my need for using extra words, time or emotions on people that don’t deserve my fries in the first place.
This is my life. This is me. And I’m not sorry for it. I am thankful that I realised the damage and malfunction I caused in the process and it’s OK that I went through it all. Cause the pot of gold I found at the end of my rainbow is worth every piece of shit I went through to find it.
There’s a reason why my walls are built so high, and there’s a reason it will take you longer than expected to bring them down. There’s a reason why I’m guarded.
I’m guarded because I’ve been hurt before. We all have. My weakness is that I carry the pain with me as a constant reminder that it could happen again. And while this is such a cautious way to walk through life, while instead I could be wildly sprinting, the wild sprint has made me fall and trip before, and the scrapes and burns were painful. So painful that it takes a while to try and run that fast again. So I walk, and I walk carefully noticing my surroundings because I worry if I were to ever fall that hard again, I might not be able to get back up.
I’m guarded because I’m scared of what you’ll think, but not scared enough to admit it. I fear your disapproval like a little girl fears the monster under her bed, and right now I will just keep quiet to avoid any disturbance. I’m guarded because no one has ever protected me as well as I protect myself. My own armor has been stronger than yours, or his, or hers, and it will continue to be until someone shows me otherwise.
I’m guarded because I’m no stranger to failure, and while it has made me stronger, it has also made me more aware of how all of it can go wrong. I’m guarded because I’ve mistakenly invested my trust in those who took it for granted, and because of their disregard, I no longer hand out trust so easily.
I’m guarded because I see the damage coming before it even happens, and I know that the lucky ones will tell me how unreasonable, pessimistic, and sad this all sounds, but even when you try to tell yourself that this time is different, the reminder seeps back in. Life will bring hurt and pain, and people will disappoint you, but no one has the ability to break down your walls except for you. I’m guarded because I’ve chosen to be that way.
I think when you’re young, you’re hoping that this person will be the right one, the one you’re going to be in love with forever, but sometimes you want that so much you create something that really isn’t there. But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly he would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.
That is the way it is with a wound. The wound begins to close in on itself, to protect what is hurting so much. And once it is closed, you no longer see what is underneath, what started the pain. I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.