Think what you will about my emotional state or process, but expressing this very personal story is my therapy. It may be the bandage for a small cut to save it from growing to a gaping wound. Perhaps it will help me start anew as a freer person.
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At some point in my younger life, I fashioned childhood crushes on the following girls: Andrea, Anna, Carolyn, Crystal, Erin, Jeni, JG, Julia, Kayla, Kellie, Molly, Stacy and Steph. (From first grade through college, this appears to be the exhaustive catalog. Write in if you believe you should be included!)
Beautiful. Smart. Athletic. Intuitive. Engaging. Musical. Mysterious. Multi-talented. Charismatic. Caring. Any combination of those attributes told the stories of these women as I knew them.
Some are now married and/or have begun their own families. Fantastic! They are all amazing people who deserve lives of fulfillment and happiness.
Meanwhile, the pressure finally popped the cork on the feelings and thoughts I’d privately bottled up for decades. I’m co-dependent myself, but tired of merely living with regret. It’s a festering roommate who revels in sad R&B and setting the table for one.
So how did this crack finally surface?
Well, I realized I never acted meaningfully on any of my listed attractions, as fleeting or as lingering as they persisted on. One-sided or mutual. Sometimes, actual outside circumstances compelled me to use ‘nice and gentlemanly’ judgement and not portray myself as a suitor. But more often than not, I simply imprisoned myself to far off admiration.
A fear of failure, or a fear of success?
Yes.
I fell in love with the concept of love often but in admiring each passing interest as a divine match, I always retreated back within myself as soon as I seemingly spotted one potential imperfection in each her. All the while, I completely ignored the blemishes and quirks that made me who I was. Without fail – but rife with vicarious heartbreak - this cycle repeated ad nauseam ‘til I noticed myself in the proverbial mirror and ultimately questioned my own intentions in corralling “love”.
There truly were none. I stoically refused to be vulnerable and ran from any chance if a sliver of an excuse presented itself.
An overhaul is long overdue: I must open up before anyone can physically, mentally or spiritually come in: romantic partner or otherwise.
All across my schooling and young professional life, I was the naturally smart kid who [usually] worked hard to be rewarded with the merits of attention, but was probably not truly seen as a fully self-actualized success. Sure, I function normally in broad society and can cultivate hollow relationships, but lack some authenticity to truly nurture intimacy.
Today, I cannot even remember the eye color of any of my crushes; I was just too scared to step outside myself in an attempt to discover if I had a deeper connection with another.
None of this changes the past, but airing it out could fix the future.
Hopefully this cliffhanger will be expanded as I begin to act on my feelings. From there, the journey of self-discovery and love shall continue…
