Getting Past Failure and Trusting My Instincts, Again.

About a year ago my then boyfriend broke up with me for the first time after we were together for 5 days.  I say then boyfriend because we’ve been broken up since a week before Christmas and this time is final.  For both of us there’s nothing left to try.  He was kind enough to give me closure too.  I’ve learned that I don’t owe anyone an explanation or closure, so I don’t expect it in return, but he gave me what I needed to let go and move on, and I hope I gave him the answers he needed as well.  I’m doing better than I was because I remembered I’m not afraid of being alone. I just have to remember to lock my doors at night.  He used to do that for me.

At the time of our first break up, I realized how much I rejected him and then I was heartbroken when he finally rejected me.  I attended a workshop on empathy last year (there’s a whole blog post and everything). By the end of that night I really saw how little space I was making for him. I spent the year struggling with empathy and second guessing myself at every turn. It wasn’t easy and I was often living outside of the integrity of who I wanted to be.  I had this idea of what I should do and how I should be and it wasn’t my idea but I was going to live it anyway.

As for the break up, this is the first time when our parting felt final from the first item he packed. Every other time I was angry and wondering if he’d take me back. If you were wondering if my marriage gave me abandonment issues, there they are.  All before you. For a few solid weeks I allowed myself to fall apart.  He was such a huge part of my life for so long and the only future I considered for the foreseeable future. I think it’s fitting that his departure hit me like it did.   

Fast forward to this week and I was in a couple of new workshops.  The first one focused on the beautiful necessity of failure.  The second one was about creating possibilities through trusting yourself. I’m a lucky girl and everything happens the way it’s supposed to. I needed to be where I was. I needed to learn what I am still learning and I get to stretch past my comfort zone into the magic of growing.

There was a moment when we were asked to write down our failures. I realized that my listed failures were relational.  It was my marriage. It was my last relationship. It was my relationship as a mom. It was my relationship as a daughter. It was my relationship as a sister. It was my relationship with money and my career.  (I was a little spend happy for Christmas but I love my diamonds and the Nike fairy was kind to me.  As for my career, it was on hold for my kids and my ex husband’s career.) It was how I connected with and interacted with people and things.

As I wrote out my failures, it felt empty.  I know that relationships are two ways.  You give and take, you push and pull. It’s not something I could fail on my own and my inability to connect the way I want to is often not all on my shoulders. In fact, I tend to give every possible opportunity so that when I do walk away, it’s with a clear conscience. Or I make space for myself to keep a safe distance from their abuse. (What can I say? People love or hate me. There’s no in between, or no one bothers to tell me.  Then there’s that whole phenomenon where people want to hurt pretty things. I have my fair share of hate directed at me and I still walk tall.)

I realized I wasn’t feeling that I failed in these relationships.  I felt I should feel that I felt like a failure. It’s what I was told to feel. You hear about a “failed marriage.” I can’t even count how many times I was asked whose fault it was. There were many times I tried to displace my guilt with his blame.

Then I had someone else voice what my list was.  And I was completely disconnected. I didn’t feel ownership of those failures.  I felt like they were things I once felt I failed at, but my perspective shifted at some point and I never reconciled that shift with my list.

At some point in life I realized everything happens the way it does for a reason. My marriage ended and I learned how to take care of my needs.  I learned that I could be happier alone. I learned how to balance my checkbook and that I only felt like I didn’t have enough when I convinced myself I didn’t have enough. It was liberating.

The next night I had the second workshop and I assumed we would be learning how to trust others, but it was an even deeper lesson I needed. It was how to trust yourself. Last night I realized that I didn’t feel bad about not trusting others.  I felt the most pain from not trusting myself. A year ago I had a gut check that would have changed my whole year if I hadn’t ignored it.  There was good and bad.  Had it been a loved one living the year I just had, I would have told them to walk away a long time ago. 

Tools of This Lesson

There were tools given in this course. Of course those tools and going forward land differently for everyone.  What I’m walking away with is to accept these failures.  Own them.  Realize failing doesn’t make me the failure.  Let go of the feelings that don’t serve me.  Forgive myself for all the times I beat myself up with a memory. (Memories are literally my imagination and even I have to remind myself to stop hitting myself.) Go forward powerfully, committing to a bigger picture.  And trust myself.  Trust my instincts and my intuition.  Trust my beliefs and trust that I am the authority on my life and finances. I get to live in my choices.

For the past year, I’ve really tried to follow my ex boyfriend’s leadership.  And it was often a feeling of “no.” I remember solidly feeling that I had no control of my life and it was going at the speed of “what the fuck? I never signed up for this,” instead of feeling like I had infinite possibilities lined up in every weekend and kid free moment. I was home instead of exploring Southern California. I wasn’t taking myself out to dinner or getting my nails done because his perception of my finances didn’t allow it. And yet, I really can.

I want to give a clearer picture of one of my perceived failures and it’s in finding romantic love.

The year before I met my ex boyfriend, I decided to jump into dating again. Times changed from my last date and I started looking for love in an app.  There were so many shenanigans and terrible situations.  They make terrific archived reading on this blog.  I often heard the phrase, “you’re too intense.” I was called an alpha female and it made me feel amazing, but nothing goes forward with a gay man when you’re me. I was told by one man that he couldn’t date me.  I’m too smart and curious. He needs to be the smart one in the relationships he chooses. I was told I was intimidating and when I met my ex boyfriend, he didn’t call me these things. He wanted me in spite of these things. He wanted me to change these things, and it became an ongoing battle that I fought without even knowing when what he wanted me to be changed. Aside from him, I was too intense to date anyone, and I really don’t even understand what intense means.  But he accepted it and I had to fight for him. But I’m intense, whatever that means.  I may be slightly jaded, but I know there are some amazing men out there.  I just haven’t had the pleasure yet.

Last night I explained this, and the sad reality of my time swiping for a connection and I was told by another strong woman that it sounds like my standards are pretty high.  She made me feel like that wasn’t a bad thing. It felt good.  It sounds like I was in the wrong dating pool, finding men looking for less of a genuine connection unless it included body parts and less talking. 

Honestly, I had been coming to terms with my dominant strengths. Work was working on that. I spent so much time learning to advocate for my kids with autism.  I spent so much energy trying to figure out how to make sure my family has all we need and more than we want. I have little patience for men that don’t know what they want. I have little time for men that focus on what I look like.  I know what I look like. I know who I am.  If you can’t see past that, I don’t have time to convince you of my amazing. This makes me really great at my job.  At work, I’m surrounded by strong, dominant men that are not intimidated by me.  My team at work makes space for me to be the girl on the team, but they also expect my intelligence and ability.  They know who I am and I’m an asset.  And they give me hope.  There’s a strong Warrior Dragon Slayer out there for me, and he’s just as intense as I am.

As for my past relationship, he saw me at first. He liked that I have a degree.  He even read a few of my blog posts (not everyone can handle the whole shebang, but I promise, every word here is golden.) Eventually though, I think I was too independent for him. He wanted me to follow his leadership without contributing my thoughts and this parting was inevitable.