Vulnerability and Courage
It has now been just over three weeks. Parts of my heart are on their way to being completely restored. Other parts are still somewhat raw and ragged. It seems a bit of a cruel irony that it is taking me considerably longer to get over the relationship than the relationship itself even lasted, but that is part of the price of love, I suppose.
The well-intentioned advice from friends of all types continues to come in. My closer friends are just checking up on me, asking with sincerity how I'm doing. My answer is usually, "I'm hanging in there," or "I'm doing okay, I have good days and bad ones."
Then there are my Tuesday Zumba ladies.
Last Tuesday, I had a couple of them come to me with what they called "unsolicited advice." And unsolicited it certainly was. Their advice was essentially to be aloof, play hard to get, not be available, give him the impression that I was living a full and wonderfully active life without him, even if I wasn't.
I understand where they are coming from, and it was something that had worked for them... or for a friend... the stories just kind of kept rambling on and I began thinking, "if I don't clock out soon, my boss is going to be unhappy" and, "I really need to extract myself somehow from this conversation and get down to work." Their advice had two major flaws, though.
First, playing "hard to get," being aloof, all those things are only going to work if he is actually pursuing me. He's not. Yes, I know men tend to love the pursuit, oftentimes more so than the conquest. In this case, though, at this point he is not pursuing me. We're both keeping our space, within reason.
Secondly, all that is just not who I am. I don't put up false pretenses, other than a good face when my depression is bad. I'm just too open and honest for that. It isn't me to give him some bullshit answer if he asks what I did on Friday night, which was part of their advice. "If he asks what you did, tell him you were busy, even if you all you were doing was plucking your eyebrows or something." That just isn't me, period.
This weekend -- actually, this morning -- I finished reading "The Diamond in Your Pocket - Discovering Your True Radiance" by Gangaji. This was one of the four books my friend sent me. At times I had a hard time with it because it seems to just go in circles, making the same point over and over. But then I'd read a line and it would smack me upside the head. I actually got out a highlighter and marked several things in this book.
Yesterday while getting a pedicure -- a small personal victory in itself, as the last time I got a pedi it was because the BF was fond of tickling and playing with my feet, which after that pedi he never did since he dumped me the next day, and on top of that they were playing sappy love songs on the satellite radio -- I came across this line: "Willingness to be vulnerable is what the term 'spiritual warrior' really means. Vulnerability takes more courage than being cynical, strong, or powerful. It takes courage to be open, innocent, and willing to be hurt."
It takes courage to be willing to be hurt. Without that courage, we are closed off, insular. What kind of lives are we actually living if we are behind armor, behind walls, behind fortresses? It takes courage to trust, because trust is vulnerability incarnate. That applies to our relationship with God (or whatever spiritual force you believe in) as well as our relationships with other people. I have come to inherently realize that I am willing to be hurt, even, perhaps especially, by him.
So now at this point, here is where I am. I do realize that lately, I have been the one extending the olive branches, if you will, being the one to reach out and text or email, albeit consistently with a specific purpose. He always responds, and invariably it's right away, but we aren't having real conversations or anything, at least not yet. But this is me. This is who I am. Whether he's a friend or something more, that is what I do. I'm exercising my courage and subsequently my vulnerability every single time I text or email him. I know with that action I could be widening the gap between us, or setting myself up to be ignored or told, "stop texting/emailing me." Or perhaps with each action I'm adding another board to the bridge to reconciliation. I don't know. I'm not reaching out to him daily; at the most twice a week.
In my core, my true being, I believe I am a kind, sweet, thoughtful person who truly cares about her friends. Maybe my unconscious, subliminal strategy is to "prove" to him that I'm not really batshit crazy like I was that final weekend. Maybe I'm being directed to "kill him with kindness." All I know is that, at this moment, I am being me, true to me, and truly me. It is up to him if the real me is someone that he wants in his life as more than a very casual acquaintance.
Courage, trust, vulnerability. One day, one step at a time, truly trusting in God.
The well-intentioned advice from friends of all types continues to come in. My closer friends are just checking up on me, asking with sincerity how I'm doing. My answer is usually, "I'm hanging in there," or "I'm doing okay, I have good days and bad ones."
Then there are my Tuesday Zumba ladies.
Last Tuesday, I had a couple of them come to me with what they called "unsolicited advice." And unsolicited it certainly was. Their advice was essentially to be aloof, play hard to get, not be available, give him the impression that I was living a full and wonderfully active life without him, even if I wasn't.
I understand where they are coming from, and it was something that had worked for them... or for a friend... the stories just kind of kept rambling on and I began thinking, "if I don't clock out soon, my boss is going to be unhappy" and, "I really need to extract myself somehow from this conversation and get down to work." Their advice had two major flaws, though.
First, playing "hard to get," being aloof, all those things are only going to work if he is actually pursuing me. He's not. Yes, I know men tend to love the pursuit, oftentimes more so than the conquest. In this case, though, at this point he is not pursuing me. We're both keeping our space, within reason.
Secondly, all that is just not who I am. I don't put up false pretenses, other than a good face when my depression is bad. I'm just too open and honest for that. It isn't me to give him some bullshit answer if he asks what I did on Friday night, which was part of their advice. "If he asks what you did, tell him you were busy, even if you all you were doing was plucking your eyebrows or something." That just isn't me, period.
This weekend -- actually, this morning -- I finished reading "The Diamond in Your Pocket - Discovering Your True Radiance" by Gangaji. This was one of the four books my friend sent me. At times I had a hard time with it because it seems to just go in circles, making the same point over and over. But then I'd read a line and it would smack me upside the head. I actually got out a highlighter and marked several things in this book.
Yesterday while getting a pedicure -- a small personal victory in itself, as the last time I got a pedi it was because the BF was fond of tickling and playing with my feet, which after that pedi he never did since he dumped me the next day, and on top of that they were playing sappy love songs on the satellite radio -- I came across this line: "Willingness to be vulnerable is what the term 'spiritual warrior' really means. Vulnerability takes more courage than being cynical, strong, or powerful. It takes courage to be open, innocent, and willing to be hurt."
It takes courage to be willing to be hurt. Without that courage, we are closed off, insular. What kind of lives are we actually living if we are behind armor, behind walls, behind fortresses? It takes courage to trust, because trust is vulnerability incarnate. That applies to our relationship with God (or whatever spiritual force you believe in) as well as our relationships with other people. I have come to inherently realize that I am willing to be hurt, even, perhaps especially, by him.
So now at this point, here is where I am. I do realize that lately, I have been the one extending the olive branches, if you will, being the one to reach out and text or email, albeit consistently with a specific purpose. He always responds, and invariably it's right away, but we aren't having real conversations or anything, at least not yet. But this is me. This is who I am. Whether he's a friend or something more, that is what I do. I'm exercising my courage and subsequently my vulnerability every single time I text or email him. I know with that action I could be widening the gap between us, or setting myself up to be ignored or told, "stop texting/emailing me." Or perhaps with each action I'm adding another board to the bridge to reconciliation. I don't know. I'm not reaching out to him daily; at the most twice a week.
In my core, my true being, I believe I am a kind, sweet, thoughtful person who truly cares about her friends. Maybe my unconscious, subliminal strategy is to "prove" to him that I'm not really batshit crazy like I was that final weekend. Maybe I'm being directed to "kill him with kindness." All I know is that, at this moment, I am being me, true to me, and truly me. It is up to him if the real me is someone that he wants in his life as more than a very casual acquaintance.
Courage, trust, vulnerability. One day, one step at a time, truly trusting in God.
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