it took me a while to admit what i'm about to tell you to myself: when my heart got broken, so did my sense of self.
when the person i thought i was going to spend my life with left me, so did i.
i left myself to live idly on with the plan i had for my life.
whew. deep breath. got that over with.
it's terrifying to admit, because i have always known who i am... since i was a little 7 year old buck toothed, (self dressed) monochromatic outfitted nugget. then again, i had never tried giving myself to someone else's keeping.
i'm not writing this to play victim or become the blogger version of taylor swift-- but rather to address something no one likes to: often times, losing something or someone you love is paired with a loss of self.
i'm writing this, because i wish someone had written about it for me to read when i was walking the shaky bridge from being certain to being- 'what-the-actual-fr*ck-is-happening-and-why-can't-i-breathe'?
this loss doesn't have to be a partner: it could be a dream or a family member or job, etc..
so there i was, 3 months after being left-- having listened to every podcast, read every book, sang along to every song, confided in every wise person-- proclaiming i was okay .. all the while, blatantly lying to everyone (most importantly & most damagingly-- myself).
i had friends tell me their stories: they were SURE of their first love, they were heartbroken, it took longer than they wanted & then they were okay. surprisingly, most people told me it took them a year+ to heal from it.
okay i can try to be patient with myself... but i wasn't healing. i was shoveling dirt into a sink hole the size of texas, desperately trying to fill it. drinking helped. so did short flings. so did Cardi-B. but deep inside, i knew the off brand anti-inflammatory i was dowsing myself in wasn't healing.
so i did what any desperate-to-find-herself 22 year old would do: eat, pray, love-d myself over to the dominican republic. i thought doing something i'd always dreamed of-- working as a photographer for a hostel in the rural, local country side of the DR-- would magically heal me.
a lot happened in between-- which i'm sure will find itself on here at some point-- but let me fast forward a few weeks.
we organized a falling star watching camp-out at the hostel (let me tell you, finding all the parts for 15 tents scattered around like confetti in the dominican sun is a trek).
so there i was, around a bonfire-- hearing the stacked voices of various native tongues from around the globe share in laughter, trumpets & guitars of live music, local rum being passed around with the excitement of a middle school show & tell, stars literally falling through the sky: a setting i had always known would set my soul on fire.
& i was deeply unhappy. the cracks in my heart that i had poorly self medicated together throbbed. i felt the grief in my throat, blocking my breath. all i could think about was the loss of him. confused, i searched the dazzled sky & summoned the native taino dominican wisdom for some supreme answer. aaaaaand natta.
that night, i was up with food poisoning in my little blue, tin room.. hiding from the storm closely raging outside, sharing the company of a frightened chicken, chihuahua, two kittens & more mosquitos than i cared for. physically & emotionally miserable. what was i doing here? my inner voice seemed to love the word "pathetic" & generously called me it.
& i realized something while i was throwing up across the street in the rain next to a cow (because the water went out) : i wasn't grieving the loss of him anymore. in all reality, he wasn't even the kind of person i wanted in my life. i was grieving the loss of myself.
that was a much more fatal blow, but it's much easier to claim you're mourning the loss of love for another than the loss of love for yourself.
you can live on after losing a person you loved.. just like you can live without a limb. but you cannot live on after losing love for yourself.. just like you can't live without a beating heart. the love we nurture ourselves with is the beating of our hearts.
i genuinely couldn't remember the last time i felt true joy or hope.
after that horrible night, i gathered the courage & contacted him for the first time to find closure-- & i did.. in a deeply painful, infuriating, disappointing, necessary way. it confirmed what i had always known: i'm not grieving this cold stranger of the person i once loved, i'm grieving the shadow of myself that losing him slowly made me become.
i missed who I was more than i missed who he was.
a friend talked to me the next day about it-- she had been through something similar but was now in a happy, healthy relationship.
she advised me not to lose that eagerness & capacity to love someone fully. she said-- imagine what it's like to give all that loyalty, passion & fullness to the right, deserving person who can reciprocate with just as much loyalty, passion & fullness.
then i thought... what if I'm the right person?
what if it's not another person?.. what if it's my own self deserving of my own love, kindness & loyalty? what if i directed all that capacity-- or even a fraction-- i have to love another person inwards?
after that difficult to swallow realization (like bowling ball on a spoon sized), i found pieces of myself hidden around me: a scavenger hunt of self reclamation.
i found myself in the vibrant colors of fabrics i had long since adorned myself with.
i found myself in the kindness of strangers who helped when our motorbike broke down (twice) on the way up & down a mountain.
i found myself in the conversations that held the depth of old friends with complete strangers from around the world-- soaking up wisdom & stories like dry soil meets rain.
i found myself in the balance of slack lining.
i found myself in befriending chihuahuas as saving graces.
i found myself in the stability of the sea.
i found myself while singing mamma mia on the back of a motorcycle speeding in between cars, cows & horses up winding mountain roads.
i found myself in jumping off waterfalls.
i found myself in learning that laughter is a universal language.
i found myself in watching the rituals of daily life among the locals in macao.
i found myself in seeing joy in the rawest form-- as kids playing dusty games of baseball.
i found myself in fear & uncertainty- balanced with grace that i have absolutely no clue what i'm doing in life.
i found myself in the passing of my grandmother, my confidant-- holding my own mother in my arms.. accepting the beautiful fragility of life.
& i felt it.. i couldn't place it at first. it was breath. the wild, free air of letting go of what holds us back to clasp hands with what nourishes us,
to anyone who has lost something-- whether it be your grandma, your lover, your friend, your vision for your path, your whatever else: just because you feel scattered does not make you lost.
you are there: hidden amongst the mighty grandeur of daily life.
you can travel the world, search in another's embrace or affirmation, read a thousand self help books while juice cleansing, leave your job, cut your hair...but you won't find balance until you understand this (or at least it was the case for me)--
being lost is entirely human and okay, as long as you keep yourself.
finding & loving ourselves isn't passive gigantic changes to our lives-- it's active hard, graceful, honest, aware work.
here's to our own selves-- may we seek them, honor them, love them & find them.
to anyone experiencing loss, i want you to know i'm here for you: however i can & however you need. after all, sharing your experience with other hearts is what makes it live on.
all my love, fellow lost humans!
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