Common Denominator

So I really decided to start going through my relationships. What was it that kept getting me back in the same position, alone. Clearly the one thing that was very apparent was that the common denominator was me. So basically, maybe the problem was not any of them, but the problem was me. Now granted, none of them were the right men for me although we had wonderful times together. Not all of it was rotten and hurtful. If I were to go back and review each one, I have to really look at what stage of me I was in, in order for things to not work out. Was I being the real me, whatever that was. Was I communicating in a way that I was heard without complaining and feeling like I was attacking them. How could I continue to end up alone when I always thought I was doing everything right? Truth be told, it was impossible. It takes two people to make something work and it takes two people to have it all fall apart. I could go on to say that I was the victim in each of my relationships, but I’m too strong to A) admit that and 2) it was obviously just not true. And I don’t like to lie. I’ve been lied to enough, I’ve lied to myself enough and I wasn’t going to tolerate it anymore, from anyone. I would need to clearly identify what it was I wanted. In a partner, in myself, in my kids, in my friendships, in my family. What was the one thing that would really get me to the place of long-lasting love, in all aspects of my life? I didn’t know. And was not really sure where to begin. So I figured that I would definitely need to get to the bottom of my issues in order to make a shift in my life. We all have issues. We all have idiosyncrasies that may hinder us from attaining what it is we want most in life. I wanted to be happy. Happy with my family, happy with my friends, happy with a partner, but most of all I wanted to be happy with myself. All this time I thought I was, but down deep, I really wasn’t. I was searching for a piece of the puzzle from an external place and it was never going to fit, cause I needed to look inward. So I decided therapy would be where I started. I had been to a therapist on and off my whole life. Depression runs in my family and so does Type A behavior. I would clearly be identified with Type A behavior but could never really see myself as someone who suffered with depression. I didn’t weep, or get stuck not getting out of bed, I didn’t think the world was ending every time my life seemed to fall to pieces, I wasn’t feeling hopeless or helpless, but there was something I couldn’t put my finger on. And I needed to figure it out or I was going to be alone and miserable for the rest of my life and that was not an option. So I pick a woman who was close by and I go for the consultation. I always seem to find therapists that I end up wanting to be friends with. I have been told I have an old soul, which suits me cause I have a body that operates as if I am 100 years old. She was straightforward and honest and open and I could tell her things I wasn’t willing to admit to myself. I guess I never really sat back and saw how I had been operating in crisis mode for the past twenty years. It had never let up. I wasn’t living, I was surviving and that was going to have to change. Effective immediately. I never saw what I’ve gone through as anything different from anyone else. I never saw it as extreme. I was taught, no matter how many times you fall down, you just simply get back up. No bells and whistles. No fan fare. Just get up. I didn’t know there was an option to lay down. People may call me a fighter, a survivor, but I’m just a girl. A girl who wanted to be loved, honored, respected. A girl who wanted the love I had inside of me to be given to someone who would appreciate it, who would treasure it, who would not let me down. I wanted one man, just one, to prove to me, that they aren’t all the same. That forever love does exist. But before that could happen, I needed to fall in love with myself. So that’s the next relationship I got myself into.

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