…And Finding Peace In Spite Of It All

pink and white lotus flower
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

My last post hit a note with a LOT of people apparently. Moreso than I thought it would. I posted it on my Facebook as I usually do.

The outpouring of love was actually kind of incredible. I got multiple messages checking on me daily. People spent time with me, and I mean REALLY spent time with me, even if they couldn’t show up in person. One friend made me tea. My roommate sat by me in understanding silence making me realize that there is love in space and presence.

I realized from this experience that I had a choice.

After coming out of an emotionally abusive relationship prior and then this happening once I decided to open back up again? I could easily go back to the place I was in. It’s easy to be angry and bitter. It’s easy to say fuck all men. It’s easy to keep the walls up.

But I did it for three years and I realized that it isn’t the answer either. At least not for me. Not anymore. I can’t go back to being that person when I’ve come so far.

And I’m not going to let one person ruin that for me. I would do a disservice to myself if I did.

Through three years of being alone, then being cheated on, and then writing a raw, emotional post, I realize that somehow I have cultivated a lot of love along my way. Even during the moments when I didn’t feel lovable at all.

I have found so much love around me that it’s astounding and humbling. I have found that through that love, I have been lifted up and dusted off. Through love, I was able to come back into myself.

And once I came back into myself, I found love there too.

Instead of falling into self-loathing, everyone around me said, “Fuck him. It’s not your fault.”

And my inner voice didn’t argue with that. It agreed.

It’s not your fault.

“You’re an amazing person and he’s an idiot.”

am an amazing person.

Somewhere in my hermit phase as I call it, that inner voice changed. Where I would have met myself with hatred and anger, I found compassion and love. The question I’ve asked myself the most bubbled up from the murky haze I was in when I sat in silence.

What’s the most compassionate thing you can do for yourself right now?

I had no answer initially, but the question persisted, gently somehow.

Even the smallest thing.

I wrote. I reached out. I ate a ton of food. I didn’t feel like doing those things initially, but I did them slowly. Because for me they were the compassionate things.

And through all this, I realize I have to forgive him.

Don’t take this as me going back to the situation. Or even saying it to him. That’s not what this is.

I have to forgive him so I can find peace at the end of the day. So I can sleep soundly at night. So I can start fresh and not undo all this work I’ve done on myself. I’ve come too far to have this self-love tainted by one person.

I’ve come too far to be steeped in bitterness like I was before.

I’ve just come too far.

And knowing this, I can’t go back.


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