Growth is hard. It hurts. You may find yourself feeling like “when does it end?” It doesn’t. I actively remind myself, almost every day, that growth isn’t a destination – it’s a lifetime commitment. Like real love, it takes a choice every day to commit to our own growth. As we go through life we are tested in new ways and that means we grow in new ways. Intention is the key, I think. It takes intention to keep a metaphorical door open to learning and growing as a person. If that door shuts, we fall off course and we fall into old patterns.

I think recognizing our old patterns is necessary to change them. The one I’m the most ashamed of is selfishness. I struggled to share my entire childhood, and a significant portion of my adulthood. I had a major sense of FOMO, and I clung to things for myself. I started loosening when I had a sibling, but they were 10.5 years younger than me… I didn’t have to share much with them. I got a bit better as an adult; I could share my meals with friends or partners and I lent out things that were mine amidst my fear of losing them. Having my own child was a breakthrough here, because I’m the most selfless I’ve ever been as a parent. (Good) parenting requires selflessness. So, I’ve learned a lot. I have grown a lot in this pattern; it’s not perfect, but it’s much better.

It’s hard for me to articulate the underlying cause, but I will try. I was an only child for over 10 years, I’m sure that contributed. I also didn’t get a lot of things, though. I got a lot of hand-me-downs, and I liked them, but I didn’t get many things that were new and *mine.* The worst of these that I recall was the year I wanted roller blades, and my mom bought them in her size; I tried to use them once, but they were too big. I clung to the things that I wanted; my TMNT toy from a fast food restaurant, my little ponies, my cat figurines, etc. Everything I had was saved. I still have clothes from high school… I still have my cat figurines… I still have a lot of things because I clung to them.

So, I think it was hard for me to share because I was SO attached to things. I still have “too many things.” I’m growing, though. I’m learning to let things go, but it’s a slow process that takes a lot of work. I feel like it’s a physical expression of my anxious attachment; I cling to things because of the holes inside me. Perhaps, like retail therapy, I’m clinging to things in an effort to hold my heart together? I don’t know. Perhaps, I’m afraid of losing some piece of myself when I let the item(s) go? I had a moment after my divorce when I felt a lifting of a weight on me that caused a sudden ability to get rid of a few boxes of things. Then, it faded because the relationship I started also faded. I was briefly more secure than before, but it was due to external influence, not my own.

Much like with my love life, I recognize that I need to get more secure to relieve myself of these things. I need to get more secure to find real love with someone, also. So, I’m working intensely to heal myself. I have quite the backlog… many many years of relationship patches to cover the wounds – another old pattern. It’s pretty easy to recognize that pattern because it’s precisely the reason I’ve struggled so much in relationships. I spent years thinking I didn’t have a type, when in reality I was just going along with whatever relationship fell into my lap. That is a pattern that I keep thinking I’ve changed… until I like someone again. I can say “no” to 50+ men that don’t fit my needs and I don’t have a connection with, but then one comes along and I lose myself completely. I’m working on that one, but it’s incredibly hard when I don’t have relationships to practice with. I haven’t had a relationship since my divorce.

So, as I try to retrain myself to keep my core intact and release things that I don’t need, perhaps I should share a story about the worst situationship, ever.

My divorce was finalized, but I knew I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I wanted one, but I was still in love with someone else and I was still hurting a lot. So, I accepted that I needed whatever “casual” means. Enter: situationship. The most insanely awful situationship I’ve heard of. It started off well, though. I had fun, he spoke my language, he made time for me. I started feeling more secure and I practiced letting go in the “relationship” and started letting go of some things. I practiced secure attachment.

The problem was: he was lying. He was sleeping around. He made less time for me. He agreed to let me see other people because he wasn’t giving me the time I needed. Then, he went 180 crazy. He demanded I find a female partner, not a male one. He started treating me like trash, not like a partner. He got abusive and toxic in our communications. This man abused his access to me in ways that I cannot write here. It became a dysfunctional game, I felt shitty about myself and convinced him to stay. I bent. I stopped being secure. I devalued myself because he wasn’t valuing me.

Worst 10 months of chaos of my relationship life. Things were so sideways, and I was bending like a master yogi to make myself fit the circumstance. I called it off at one point, and he somehow talked his way back. I kept breaking it off. I set my boundaries. He pushed them harder. Until, finally, I put up a wall. I met someone who treated me way better, that I liked. I told him that I didn’t want to mess up the potential for something real, with someone I liked, over him. I was done. I lost the man I liked, but I still didn’t go back.

He begged, he pestered. I finally blocked him. He contacted me on other apps, from other numbers, anything to get a message to me. I made it clear this was harassment, and that it needed to stop. I explicitly asked him to no longer contact me. He still does. The end. When you bend your boundaries for someone, there are consequences. I have many regrets from that situation, and every time I get a text from a random number, I’m reminded of them. The path to self is not straight, and it isn’t easy. It is important.

I hope you don’t have to make such mistakes to grow.

Much love, -S.