Push and Pull

I imagine it must be frustrating, difficult, and maybe even lonely to be in a relationship with the person I am today. I am constantly battling a cycle of connect and withdraw…fighting against my own desire to pull away and instead choose vulnerability. I get close…my fingertips brush the hem of love and belonging. However, life has taught me those feelings give power to other people, and that scares me. Suddenly every action confirms my belief that I am forgettable, replaceable, and not enough—that my presence in this place doesn’t matter. This is so unfair to the people in my life whose very character testifies against these false beliefs. I punish them for the betrayals of others and force them to prove their loyalty, trust-worthiness, and love. I hold them to standards I do not disclose and measure them against my idealized “self-sacrificing” lens. Then when they undoubtedly disappoint, I remove all expectations because it is better to want nothing than to voice what I want and be rejected…thus confirming my voice doesn’t matter.

But I fight to lay myself bare. To tear down my walls and feel and hope and expect and trust. And people don’t always see the dive off the cliff that exists in every shared confession, opinion, text, call, or invitation. They can't imagine the push and pull raging inside. They don’t see how much I fear being left behind. They don’t realize the tremendous bravery it takes to authentically connect and be present in every moment.

But even if they don’t ever see. If they don’t ever really know…it is good for me to practice vulnerability and strive for the connection which is counter to my instincts. Maybe one day they will be brave too. Maybe one day they will see me with all my fears laid on the table. Maybe one day the connection will go both ways. Maybe it already does and I can’t see it. Maybe one day I will.

This work is hard. But it is worth it. I want to break the cycle and with God's help I will.

Note to the reader:
In 2019, my word is CONNECT. Quite frankly, connection has been kicking my butt. Nevertheless, I didn't write this post for accolades or condolences or compliments or comfort. I wrote it to demonstrate (to myself more than anyone) that connection is scary and messy and clumsy. Sometimes I fail hard, and that's okay. I am fighting to be present--not perfect.