PAIN MASQUERADING AS LOVE

We are meant to bee together.
We aren’t here to do this thing alone.

My whole life I have wanted to know what Love is. You see, I come from a sticky, poisonous situation in which emotions and ideas are projected onto others. If someone felt bad, then they would hurl their feelings at another in attempt to feel better. “You have no friends.” “You lazy lout!” and “Selfish bitch!” were epithets often shouted within the home I grew up within. A house that was chock full of all the material things but absolutely devoid of heart-felt connection and human compassion.

Undiagnosed mental health disease ran amok there. It also looked like hands slapping faces, pulling hair and beating butts with a leather belt. Violence, and the lack of consent that comes with it, weaves a disastrous tale.

Ours was a place antagonistic towards empathy. A deep fear of vulnerability and a superiority complex kept the people within it as separate islands, retreating to the illusory safety of their own rooms. What then could I possibly know of LOVE? Growing up within a tight container of control, being told how to dress and style my hair, kept home and not allowed to do the things that my peers were doing, I became adept at being alone. I crawled up into fantasy and often felt like a princess awaiting someone – a prince, or even just a friend - to save her from the bell tower of an evil queen.

By the time I finally escaped at the sweet age of 17 going on 18, patterns had already set in. I didn’t know how to empathize.
I preferred to sleep alone.
I ran from intimacy and found myself hating the people who wanted to love me and chasing after the ones that simply were not available - either emotionally, or physically. For many years, I would go on long walks alone, lost in the images of my mind about the day when someone specific would be the "right" fit for me. I was beyond “picky.”
I was deeply fearful, and I didn’t even know it. I somewhat had a sense of how to get my physical needs met, though.
Wham, bam, thank you, Man.
But sex without intimacy is empty.
There is little to be learned or gained from the interaction.
Aside from, maybe, an orgasm (if you’re lucky. ;) )

Then, I hit 25. As my friends from grade school began getting married and having children, I realized that my lack of experiencing a long-term relationship meant that I was, in actuality, emotionally stunted. It was time to just try and let someone in, closer to me. But I refused to choose the person who wanted to love me unabashedly. Instead, I chose someone who fit more of someone else’s ideas of whom I *should* be with. It was disastrous, and perfect. We moved in together where he projected onto me his pain, and he behaved so much like the once evil Royalty in my life. These patterns that begin outside of us end up taking root within us.
We have to root them out.

Thank you.
Next.

(This writing continues here >> "ON LOVE: Before Loss")

PAIN MASQUERADING AS LOVE