Hidden In Plain Sight

Road trip 😊

Everyone is so emotionally intelligent nowadays they completely miss the part where love sometimes means being patient with someone who's still figuring things out.
We've learned the language of boundaries and red flags so well we forget that healing doesn't always look pretty or perform well. We live in a time where one wrong text can end a connection and one imperfect moment can brand someone as unsafe. Where protecting your peace is sometimes just avoiding intimacy. We confuse regulation with disconnection, clarity with control,
detachment with wisdom. And in doing so we build curated lives filled with people who never challenge our edges and only mirror them. We mistake emotional intelligence for emotional convenience. And then we wonder why everything feels so distant even when
we’re doing everything right.

It occurred to me just now that I actually made it. Easily, if I’m honest. Probably because most of the time I’ve just felt lost, and focused on working at letting go of the past.

A year ago I made a pact. No contemplation of a relationship for at least a year. I had a few friends with benefits, who actually are good friends now, no longer with the benefits. This is the first time in my life I’ve been truly alone, and it actually feels pretty good. It’s odd to feel so content. Ok ok… I’m not alone anymore… I have just landed a furry adventure buddy.

It’s a strange experience. I met a wonderful man at the beach recently. When I told my sister about him she laughed and asked if she needed to slap me (that was part of the pact I made- she was to slap me if I came to her gushing about a man lol). I said no, no I’m good. And I really was. I didn’t ask for his number, nor feel that desperation I once would’ve had… that fear of missing out on something. I could simply trust that if our paths crossed again that would be nice, however, if they didn’t, oh well.

It’s the lack of desperation that feels so freeing. And I didn’t even realise I was desperate. Desperate to be loved, to be wanted, to be “chosen,” to be enough. I’ve given myself all those gifts. So I no longer need to look for them externally. It feels wonderful to be able to meet people in a space of not wanting something from them. I once moved in that way, but somehow had forgotten why or how. Lost in a need for validation.

I don’t know how it would look to welcome someone into my life these days. I feel so different. How do I love from a place of enoughness? It’s so new to me that I can’t even fathom what that could look like. It sounds quite pathetic to write that. It makes me feel sorry for the pathetic part of me that carried so many painful beliefs. But also proud that I no longer do. It also makes me acutely aware that my dating pool just got even smaller lol.

Overall, I feel happy again. My heart is beginning to shine again. My smile and laugh have returned. That spark of adventure is finding its way back. That curiosity at what might be around the corner. An upcoming well-overdue road trip. Good friends. Good food. Outdoors. Peace.

I’ve taken in a rescue dog. It happened unexpectedly, but he needed a home and I was in a position to be able to give him one with me. When we met for the first time, the people were astonished that he didn’t bark at me. When I arrived he simply came and met me with a curiosity that reminded me of my own.

In our time together I’ve been reminded of how things come to be. It now seems quite serendipitous. I’m the perfect person for him. And he is the perfect dog for me.

He’s had a past. One of which I’ll never know. But there are signs that it wasn’t good. He hides it. Like me, he fawns his fear behind good behaviour and being pleasing. His anxiety can easily be mistaken for happiness and excitement. The more I see him, the more I see myself. And in a way, caring for him is teaching me how to care for myself. He needs tenderness and kindness and gentle encouragement. He needs peace and comfort and stability. It’s a challenge for me to provide these things predictably and consistently. But I’m learning. He reminds me to be soft. Open. Gentle. To not try to force outcomes or hold expectations as though they’re a “cure all.” Acceptance of what is, instead of what I hope. I’m realising that he’s saving me just as much as I think I’m saving him.

Dogs have an uncanny ability to find their way into our heart. They work their way around our walls and nestle themselves into a space in our lives that makes you wonder what it was like before they came to be there. There’s a magic in that. A wisdom. He is reminding me how much I value being a safe space, both for myself and others… but he’s forcing me to learn to actually put that into practice. What a beautiful gift. Seeing him content feels like such a reward. I can only hope he feels the same way.

An image of his face between my thighs.

Words flowing from my lips.

Never spoken aloud.

He brings forth these elements.

No rhyme or reason.

Poetry that lays dormant.

Hidden behind a thousand veils of modesty.

The urge to be truly seen.

A sense. A willingness. A desire.

A… need.

My unravelling at his hands.

Stirring something ancient.

The urge to pour secrets before him.

Permission the key.

Persuasion beyond words.

To no longer hide.

To bare all.

And let him sift through the pieces.

It wasn’t clear why I decided to go, but something told me I should. Feeling so lost (as of what is beginning to feel like forever), I wanted to see if there was anything there for me anymore. If perhaps I might see a beacon of light towards what was once held so dear.

The odd thing was that it felt like a reunion. And, a part of me both stirred and settled. Especially when I saw and heard, Him.

That was actually super surprising. I hadn’t considered having any response… just one of familiarity and great shared conversations. But something in me curled around His presence. Any awkwardness immediately dissipated. I felt strangely safe. Our history emerged from memory and I realised we’d shared more than I had thought, and it had created a trust I hadn’t recognised was building.

The usual thoughts played through my mind as He spoke… “You’re so cool.”

It’s difficult for me to gauge how I feel about someone when I’m with someone else, because I don’t observe or give room to anything beyond what I consider acceptable friendship realm. But it seems I had a crush I was ignoring.

“You’re so cool.”

It’s a line from one of my favourite movies. And in hearing it, I realised that’s the type of love I wanted. The kind that made me want to openly adore the person I’m with because in my eyes they’re just so awesome. A combination of child-like, teenage-like, adult-like crush material. I realise now, when that line pops up, I’m a goner lol.

Overall though, it actually felt great to reconnect. I’m still not sure what this way of life looks like for me anymore. But it sure was nice to spend time with old and new friends, remembering why I came to be here in the first place… and that’s what I had hoped to find again.

We thought because there was consent,

it was ok.

I thought giving you permission

was enough.

But it wasn’t the freedom of permission that you hungered for.

You wanted the part of me that was willing…

and wanted to destroy it.

I needed you to play the Monster.

And you did so beautifully.

You helped me touch on wounds I couldn’t find any other way.

But what we didn’t understand was that there was no

return for us from that place.

You would always be the Monster…

and I would always be your victim.

Even though we both know that deep in our bones

that’s not who we really are.

I don’t need Monsters anymore.

And you don’t need victims.

We played it as far as it could go.

Then lit a match and stood and held hands as we

watched it all burn.

Until you turned to me and said…

‘This is the end of a chapter.’

And I knew by the look in your eyes,

you meant us.

It doesn’t seem to be spoken about often, how difficult it can sometimes be to remain friends with a significant ex. It has taken so much work for us to get to where we are. Many, many, many times it seemed too hard and I considered walking away. No doubt he did too.

For the first time in my life I experienced giving everything to a relationship. And it didn’t work out. To say I walked away pretty burned and disheartened from that experience is an understatement. Remaining single for the rest of my life is still seeming pretty appealing.

So, what is this splinter that has come to the surface?

He is becoming the man I always saw and hoped he could be while we were together. If I step outside of myself I can say I’m so proud of him for wanting to become a better man. However, the painful part is that I have to accept that I won’t get to share in who he is becoming, in the way I had once hoped to. Some might say it’s better that I have a friendship with him. And yet, there’s still a part of me that mourns for “what could have been”… being safe to openly and freely love and admire him in his journey towards his authentic self.
And no, we can’t go back. I will never put my heart in that position with him again. That is my strength. I am the most indecisive person I know, but when I do make a decision it is impenetrable… especially if it is in regard to protecting my heart and wellbeing. Too much damage has been done. I will forgive and forgive and forgive and forgive… until one day, I quietly remove that person from having access to my heart, and they stay removed. It can hurt immensely. But I have come to learn it’s a necessary hurt. Friendship is the only offer on the table.

So, I will softly mourn. I will let that part of me shed her tears. And I will hold her and tell her it’s ok. Sometimes life just hurts, and that’s ok.