Earlier this year, I got out of a relationship I thought would be lifelong, but which revealed itself, over time, to be emotionally abusive. Despite the memories, the adventures, and the good times, I forced myself to remember the low points, which had come regularly. I forced myself to remember the cycles of abuse which had played out. I forced myself to take a good, hard look in the mirror: at my tendencies to forgive this person for unforgivable things because, as an empath, my default leans toward giving folks the benefit of the doubt.
As much as I wanted the life I was being tempted with in relationship with this person, I did the hardest thing there was to do. At 36, I chose to separate from a person I thought I could spend the rest of my life with. I chose myself. I got out.
In the several months since, I have missed the couple-isms, the adventures, the romance, but never once have I regretted my decision. Because after experiencing the lows of blame, guilt, and emotional volatility {interspersed with the highs of adventure, romance, and travel} I realized choosing myself, no matter what the future looked liked, no matter what would come, was what was best. Despite what my attachment style equated to passion, but was sometimes abuse, I moved on.
I have learned in my thirties that taking risk is what often leads to breakthrough. That listening to the voice of the Spirit, really leaning in and listening, leads us to all the places we need to go. That healing is possible, but not without partnership with the Creator who sends us life and breath and heartbeats. Not without doing the [emotional} work.
Every pursuit worth doing which has led to fruitfulness, has called me into the unknown and the uncomfortable. Leaving a relationship with an emotionally unavailable person to attend grad school in the Pacific Northwest. Leaning into therapy to name the broken places, and facing them rather than running from them. Forming life-long relationships and being vulnerable in community. Opening myself open to love, and daring to leave what I thought had been love behind, once I realized it was no longer healthy. Applying to buy my first home, even as a single woman living in the Bay Area.
Since my breakup, I am perhaps happier than I have ever been. I adopted a Daschund puppy, my dream dog, from the mountains of Santa Cruz, where the California redwoods meet the sea. I LOVE being a present daughter, a life-friend, an auntie, a dog-mom. Recently, I've found myself in relationship with a kind, joyful man, surrounded by his own community. In relationship with him, I am learning new ways of being far different than that of my previous relationship, even while healing from past wounds.
The Holy Spirit invites us into partnership to face all of the scariest places with Them, holding our hands, surrounding us with hope for the future and constant love, even when the going gets hard. We have to make room to DO the hard things in our lives. Whether that means to invite new love in where love hasn't lived before, to take steps which advance us professionally or to apply to buy our first home, the invite is to be brave in places we haven't experienced change, yet, and to hold on with stubborn hope for the space we long to obtain.
We are invited by the Spirit to make room for love. For me, doing so began with letting go of someone who wasn't Gods best for me, and adopting an eight week old puppy. It continued with asking for the raise I deserve and applying for my first home. Making room has been one step at a time, but man, I have begun to enjoy this spaciousness... Though uncomfortable at first, I've found I like spreading out. Creating room for love calls us to do the brave work of embracing all that the Spirit has hidden for us. It means taking ground and often means waging war. There is nothing of value I have obtained without a worthy fight. To take new territory, we have to lean forward with tenacity and faith; we have to DO the hard thing; claiming what is set aside for us with our name(s) on it.
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