I like to think about and write about how people relate to each other on all different kinds of levels. This one is a bit close to home; I’m working through the breakdown of a 6 year relationship right now, and just wanted to share some thoughts in case it resonates with someone else out there too. xx
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We all make mistakes. We are all human. But when I promise forever, I mean it. When I commit, I commit. And because I am committed, I will try to address any threat to the health of the relationship as soon as possible. I will try to find solutions to any problems that arise. I am willing to refine, change and adapt myself (within the parameters of my ethics and standards of course) as the situation dictates. And I will maintain an unshakeable faith that things will be ok and that we can do this.
Hopefully there are many, many people out there who feel the same passion and conviction towards their own relationships. But for a relationship to be workable and stable enough to overcome obstacles thrown at it, it requires the same buy-in, the same level of commitment and faith from the other person in the equation.
And if the other person chooses not to provide that, if they lose faith and walk away, then that’s the choice they make, hopefully with their own well-being in mind. It doesn’t mean they don’t value you or the relationship and all the history you share; it just means they didn’t value it enough to justify remaining in the relationship. It just means that they have chosen to value other things more highly.
It’s instinct to blame and be angry, or analyse “what went wrong”, when we go into things with expectation and optimism and come out the other side feeling disappointed and diminished. You feel a loss more keenly when it happens against your will. And all too often we rush to fill the void with something new or different, because the gaping hole of the broken relationship reminds us that we have bared and shared our soul only to have been rejected. Or we try to hang on, dragging ourselves and our former partners into a drawn out and tortuous limbo.
This is the advice I’m trying to give myself:
Nothing will ever come from trying to breathe life into a corpse. Take a few moments to assess what happened, but don’t obsess. Give yourself honest feedback on what worked and what didn’t (and actually apply that to your future relationships, or you will repeat the same patterns). Take time to re-imagine your context and your possibilities. Be kind to yourself, but don’t over-indulge. Acknowledge that it hurts, but assure yourself that the hurt will not last forever. And if anyone tells you there are plenty of fish in the sea, smile and thank them for the environmental report, but re-learn how to “do you” before you go out and cast any nets.
I’m still working through this…. I don’t have any answers. But I do know that it will be ok.
Cadence Poetica 