Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Looking Back: A Year Ago Today

I just, for curiosity's sake, looked through my blog archives to see if I made a July 4th post last year.

I did.

I was in a hostel in San Francisco, and it was one of the most memorable, heart-aching, miserable days that I've ever had.

Not that I was willing to admit that--to myself, much less my blog-readers--at the time.  I was determined to be positive (possibly because I knew that I had a solid 5 or 6 days left on the trip with my then-boyfriend, and having a bad attitude was only going to make those days icky).

Journal excerpt from July 5, 2010:

"Things took a southerly turn yesterday.  Like, I had him pull over so I could get out just to get away.  My feelings on the whole ordeal: if something isn't changed/mended, this isn't going to work.  I cannot handle feeling like that.  And especially at the hand of the person I care about the most.  Ignoring it and hoping it fixes itself is not going to happen.  I WANT this to get worked out because I adore this man.  I don't want "forever" to be a painful idea.  I want to trust him to take care of my feelings even when we argue.  Because arguments are only going to get more serious, and I should not be afraid of the man I love, even/especially when we're arguing."

Reading that again is difficult for me.  We continued to date for 5 and a half-ish more months, while still arguing about the same thing, never really making much headway.

What were we arguing about?

I felt that he wasn't hearing me or acknowledging me as one that he cared about.  It's hard to move past that when it's proven frequently, often during the discussion of the topic itself.  Eventually, in an effort to mend the unraveling relationship, I convinced myself that he was right--that I was being plenty heard and acknowledged.  That I deserved nothing more from him.  That it was a problem with myself that I needed to work on.  I later realized that that was not true, and that thinking in that way had legitimately messed with my head. 

He didn't do it intentionally.  He didn't want to be doing it.  He just didn't know how not to.  He's a good man.  He's just not good for me.  And it took me too long to see the difference.

I'm thankful for the situation because it showed me how much I can take (I had no idea that I was so strong before that), and it helps me to recognize the beauty in being treated as a beloved equal.  I will never take that for granted again, I assure you.

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