Sunday

Reflections About Love

I am a grown woman. I am young enough to still get whistles, but old enough to remain silent about my age.

What I mean is, I have lived. I have attempted to live life to the fullest, but I too often fear has gotten the best of me. It has made me second guess myself and interfered with my success.

It just occurred to me that I have been focussed on boys (who grew into men) since I was twelve years old. Even though I tended to excel at school, when I was in school my focus on my romantic relationships took up as much thought time as my studies.  I have longed for their attention, strived to earn their affection, and lately worked to gain their respect.

I have tired of projecting the image of being a strong woman. I am fragile and my heart has been broken. So, in an effort to help other women, I am going to tell the truth.
My life has shown me that  men can, and sometimes do, break your heart. This isn't a statement about how there are no good ones out there. Rather it is a recognition that in the realm of male/female relationships, expectations are often unmet. And when your expectations are unrealized, the disappointment hurts. 
I have longed for a love true and intense for as long as I have known what that is. I have been married and divorced. I have loved and lost. I have been faithful and "friendly". Yet still, my desire has gone unfulfilled. Each time a relationship ends, I learn a lesson. While all relationships are different, the feeling of loss is the same.

And in the midst of my disappointment I still long for true love.

Indeed, despite being a grown woman, the feelings are similar to those I experienced at twelve years old when a guy named Mark spurned my affections. I thought I loved Mark. He attended my church and he was tall and popular with a bright smile and infectious laugh. All I wanted was for him to like me. When he didn't feel the same way, it hurt and I cried.

I didn't know it then, but it wouldn't be the last time that I cried over a man.

Since the beginning of puberty, I have craved love, had relationships and some of those relationships left me with my heart broken.  I realize that my heart keeps breaking because I keep giving it to men to break. I suppose the question is like the one asked in that childhood game--"who's the fool?"

Each time I experience it, I consider being afraid again, but then I decide that the pleasure far outweighs the pain... Call me stupid or just call me human.


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