As I get older, my eyes are opening up more to the realization that a lot of life experiences that I have had, that may be considered normal to society, are actually little bouts of trauma in the world of Hali.
From the numerous This American Life and The Moth podcasts I have listened to, I am starting to think that the only way to overcome trauma is to face it, head on.
This isn't exactly terrifying, since I tend to be a fairly bold person who likes a good challenge, but I will admit that I am feeling very insecure. I like being in control, and if there's one thing I have heard about therapy, it's that you will feel very out of control, as you dig up roots and confront failures.
I am not the best at allowing myself to truly FEEL, especially what I have always told myself are negative emotions: fear, sadness, loss, regret, etc.
You know that person who posts inspirational quotes relentlessly on Facebook and Instagram, that say things like "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and "You are more than your past"?
^ That is me... to myself.
I didn't grow up in a family that believed in and encouraged therapy. Then again, I wouldn't say that they were opposed to the idea, it just wasn't sought out or discussed. We supported ourselves. We were problem solvers. We were independent.
I also grew up in a Christian household, which I am thankful for, but looking back I feel as if the Church didn't equip us with tools to manage trauma, aside from: praying, trusting, and believing.
Don't get me wrong, I agree that those things are wonderful, but not enough. God gave us emotions for a reason, He also gave people talents to guide others through those emotions, helping them sort out closets full of spider webs, which I lovingly refer to as "fuck ups". To completely disregard any other form of help aside from praying, trusting, and believing seems naive, and honestly very harmful.
All of that being said:
This has been one hell of a year, specifically relating to my dating experiences. It's natural to start wondering what's wrong with yourself as relationships somehow continue to fail, right?
At the beginning of the year I briefly communicated with an ex, someone I fell in love with a couple of years ago, whom I thought was the one. He reached out to me on my birthday this year, told me he wished he had married me, that I was everything he was looking for, but he was such a mess that he couldn't be a partner to anyone...
He is getting married this weekend.
In March I met someone I felt like I quickly bonded with. He invited me on a weekend beach trip with his friends where we all played games, cooked together, and valued the beautiful simplicities of life. It was the first time I felt hopeful again, that I met someone I could just click with, but the week we got back from the coast he told me he was just hoping that weekend could be a fun fling and he didn't want anything more.
In May I met someone whom I ended up dating for nearly six months. He was strong, sarcastic, flirtatious, generous, endearing, adventurous, and ridiculously good looking. My heart was captivated. I hadn't had someone light up my life like he did in years. He pushed me to be more confident in myself, to try to new hobbies, to have thought provoking conversations, and to trust in the present.
He was the first person I slept with.
(.... and the crowd goes wild!)
Admitting this is hard, but I think it's important.
I have been scared and ashamed to open up about this. Not about me being a virgin for so long, but for making the choice to have sex with someone before marriage.
My friends and family know that I have always said I was going to wait for my husband, that it was the most beautiful gift I could give on my wedding day. I have had people tell me they wish they had waited, that they admired me for standing firm in my beliefs, and that I was someone they looked up to. Admitting that I had sex feels like I am disappointing so many people. That I am a failure. That I gave up something I held in such high regard, for someone who just walked away from me, out of the blue.
Ever since he chose to leave, without closure, I have been feeling very alone. Even when surrounded by so many amazing friends that have been beyond supportive, even without knowing the details, I'm humbled but lost. I am having a very difficult time processing my feelings, because I was never taught how to. I can't help but analyze my entire life, and what it is that has built up over 28 years that has left me in this place. Also, could it just be the luck of the draw?
I am still a Christian, for those of you questioning everything you've ever believed about me.
I still value the sanctity of sex.
I still desire to live life in an honoring manner.
But I don't want to hide my mistakes, I don't want to make excuses, and I don't want to be anything other than raw and honest.
I am writing all of this to say that that I am going to be going through a really intense journey, and I need support. I need love, I need hugs, and I need hope.
I am brave - I am strong - but I am nothing without community.
I need therapy.
