Detached Victory

Once upon a time (three-ish years ago), I embarked upon a journey that the spiritual cool kids like to call an “Awakening” and/or a “Tower moment” (if you know, you KNOW). One of the first things that heralded this epic time of my life, was an absolutely astronomical amount of loss (as such phases are often known to). Specifically in the form of relationships. Even more specifically – close relationships, of both the friendship AND romantic persuasion. Person after person after person after person left, vanished, ghosted, zombied, then ghosted again… It was horrifying. Like something out of one of those deeply unsettling horror movies I am physically unable to sit through. My personal life, seemingly overnight, resembled nothing more than the very goriest, bloodiest, most paranormally disturbing of slasher films. And of course, as most (all?) people experiencing this situation are wont to do – I took it personally. I took it so, so, so, extremely personally, as the deepest outright attack on my soul, as an absolute evisceration of my being on every level. No matter how many times the people who loved me held my hand and assured me that I was still worthy of love, that they saw my light even though I couldn’t, that I WOULD survive and I WOULD heal and I WOULD be okay and someday my person would find my ridiculous overdramatic self and think “THERE, THAT SMALL FEISTY ONE, THAT’S THE ONE”… – I didn’t believe it. I refused.

The loss of so many people could only mean ONE thing. I was the most hideous, horrible, hateful, flawed, pathetic excuse for a sentinet flesh bag as had EVER been inflicted upon this mortal coil, and EVERYTHING, absolutely EVERYTHING, that was happening TO me was all. my. fault.

And then, to just make it as much worse as humanly possible – I refused to let go. Mentally, emotionally, energetically – I held on so damn tight. It was, and I do not say this lightly – A SHIT SHOW. Codependency and unhealed trauma and cords attached to missing people is not pretty ya’ll. Add in a whole ass load of unresolved attachment wounds and the inability to be vulnerable, and well… I’ll spare what’s left of my dignity (ha!) by letting my readers paint their own mental pictures.

But you know what? I made it. And while some of the wounds are still a little raw, and sometimes I catch myself cycling back into those old thought patterns – I can still honestly say that most of what I experienced has absolutely been for my *Highest Good*, and I have (so far) survived all of it. Some might even say I’ve “thrived” (I’m personally of the opinion I’m more in the “thriving-ish” category, but I digress.) I obviously learned a lot of life lessons, and I can now categorically say that I’m capable of continuing to heal. (A fact I frequently debated in the last 36 odd months). I also have some really, and I mean REALLY, impressive breakup/ relationship horror stories. (seriously I KILL at parties. Or I will, once we’re allowed to have parties again?) – And while some days I still miss and mourn the people I’ve lost, and the old versions of “me” I’ve shed, I recently realized that I’ve gained yet another skill – I can detach. I can let people go the second I feel them pulling away – while still continuing to love the absolute SHIT out of them. I can simultaneously “let go”, and love unconditionally. Because loving is my superpower, and I REFUSE to loose it. I refuse to stop loving. There are humans on this planet that I will literally never speak to again, but who are so, so deeply loved by me. And I personally think that’s pretty badass. I also, unequivocally, at the end of the day, will always CHOOSE. MYSELF. FIRST.

Which I KNOW is badass.

(Also – before I get yelled at about boundaries – YES, I got some of those too thanks, see above sentences, and I’m working on figuring out how they work, I promise. It’s obviously a work in progress, but there IS progress. But that’s another post for another day.)

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