My first love was hard. There's no other way to describe it. Actually all my relationship until now have been hard, sometimes excruciating. And it has taken all these years to figure out what the problem was with every single one of them. There was one thing they all had in common. One failing. And it was me. Or rather my opinion of me.
Now I'm not talking about relationships like holding hands with cute little Jamie with his blonde curls and glasses in grade 1. Nor am I talking about my first serious crush. The one I cried over every time I had a few underage drinks with my friends. The one I swore I would never get over even if I lived to be a hundred, with his olive skin, dark eyes and crooked smile. Some of you were there with me and are laughing as you remember those days!
When I talk about my first love I am going right back to my mid teens. I met him just before my sixteenth birthday and fell head over heels. He was cute (I mean cute in the way a teenage girl refers to good looking guys as cute, not Jamie in grade 1 cute). He was also smart, funny and charming. And he made me feel special. He had "presence" - you could never overlook him in a room full of people. But I digress.
Over the years I have made some very bad decisions and accepted being treated poorly as a matter of course. I was insecure. I lacked confidence and had very low self esteem which left me open to physical and emotional abuse in my relationships. I honestly didn't believe that I deserved any better. The patterns repeated themselves over and over and I let them. Why didn't I walk away you ask? Because my first experience of love set me up to expect heartbreak. After that I was broken.
We were so young. He was restless and I was idealistic. Over a period of about 4 years he broke my heart a half dozen times, disappearing out of my life without warning and then reappearing the same way. When THE phone call came I would drop everything (and everyone) to see him for whatever brief time we had and then when the phone went silent I would continue on with my life broken hearted again. I couldn't understand what I was doing wrong but I began to expect the heartbreak and eventually to believe that I deserved it.
Relationship after relationship I allowed these patterns to continue - a failed engagement, a failed marriage and a series of toxic relationships. Then 8 years into my second marriage I had a complete emotional breakdown and the pattern was finally broken. It took a long time and lots of hard work to finally heal but it was a start.
It took 42 years for me to love myself enough that I could believe and accept that I was worthy of love from others.
Now that I no longer expect to be hurt or believe that I am unworthy I am able to give love with all my heart. I feel safe and secure. I feel loved. This has allowed my husband and I to build the kind of relationship I used to believe only existed in fairy tales. Now I am head over heels in love with my best friend. Now I can't even begin to imagine a life where we aren't together, in love and blissfully happy.
It might take years, or even a lifetime, but trust me when I tell you that dreams most certainly can and DO come true. But it takes work!!!
