Love Letter #4 (Growing Pains)

March 2, 2010  |  journal entries

“Relationships take work,” they say. But as someone who now knows I spent way too long in failed or failing relationships, desperately clinging to any fragment of hope or chance of ‘making it work,’ as someone who stayed with abusers, bought their bullshit and was convinced by their smooth-talking blame-the-victim manipulations, as someone trying to wake up to my own power and control and confidence (and yes, maybe I’m spectrum-banging there a little bit, but I think sometimes that’s how I learn), as someone finally finally able to say, “I feel when you because,” and “you’re right, I’m sorry,” as someone who is still prone to overgiving and overwhelm and losing myself, my tendencies go the other way: to RUN. That this, this one, this time, this sign is The Sign, that any red flag is a Red Flag and is grounds to be a dealbreaker, that in six months I’ll look back to now and say there, that’s when it all went to hell, that was the point of no return, I should have listened to my gut, why’d I stay, why’d I trust her, again, how did I get here, I lost myself again, I swore that would never happen and here I am …

But that is not this relationship.

I am still skittish. I am still prone to explosions of emotion when I get scared. I am still unsure—not so much of her, or of this beautiful shiny strong relationship we are building, but of myself, my own ability to keep myself strong, solid, taken care of, whole.

It comes up again and again, especially lately, since she’s been in crisis and I want to help. I am a helper, and a service top, after all. My job is to take and care (but not caretake). My role is to comfort and protect. And when we both started realizing it was too much, and our parts in that, that I took on too much responsibility for her well-being and that she was leaning on me too much and not taking care of herself, I was left unsure of my standing.

What does she need me for, if she doesn’t need me for this?

Then came the silence, and look we stumbled upon another one of my many triggers: withdrawing. And we discovered containment doesn’t mean withdraw, and that I still need to learn how to listen without giving advice.

I need to remember who it is I am dating: her, this girl, only her, not any of my exes. How does one undo triggers, once they’re found? Or will they just always be there, like an old skiing injury, something to be constantly aware of and work around?

I need to remember this, rely on it: here are the things she and I are particularly good at:

  1. Telling each other, as openly, kindly, and honestly as possible, how we feel about where we’re coming from
  2. Taking responsibility for the parts that we own, and not blaming the other person
  3. Being totally willing to work on ourselves individually, and the relationship
  4. Being quick, thorough, vigilant learners, willing to do extensive research to get somewhere faster

I have never had any of these things, truthfully, in practice, in previous relationships, though I and my exes have often given lip service to many of them. Some of that was certainly my fault—it really is only recently that I was capable of executing them, the first one especially.

She keeps saying, “we love each other, we’ll get through this,” but that is not as comforting as those four traits, to me. This is about skill, this is about commitment, this is about patience. And yes sure, this is about love, too, and I am way too in love with this gorgeous, fierce, extraordinary person to stop the hard work it may take to get through these growing pains. They are as much mine as they are hers, and when we get through to the other side, we will know each other and ourselves better, we’ll be stronger and have more tools and skills to weather the changing emotional landscapes of love and relationships.

This continues to be a huge opportunity to grow and evolve and unstick the stuck places, and what better way to take that on than with a kind, loving person who knows me practically as well as I know myself? Together we are more than the sum of us separately, together we are stronger, bigger, more capable, more supported, buoyed by the magic strength that is sharing one’s life with another. Nothing cuts through the muscle, the bone, exposing the marrow, like love, does it? There is never so much to lose, so there is never so much to gain; with the highest stakes come the highest rewards.

I know relationships take work. I am willing to do the work, I just have to be certain that the work is worth doing. And perhaps for the first time, really, for the first authentic time, for the first awake and aware and really fully known time, I have someone who knows this takes work, who is certain the work is worth doing, and who is willing to do the work to be with me, too.

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11 Comments


  1. [she's been visiting a friend for the last four days so I've sent her a love letter every day]

    awww.

    btw, eventually the other person will know you as well as you know yourself, no adverbs required. your four things sound like a good blueprint for getting there.

  2. "she's been visiting a friend for the last four days so I've sent her a love letter every day"

    your tags are like the cherry on top of your posts.

  3. …I should note that when I started my comment, a.'s comment had not yet been posted!

  4. Yes. Work. Lots. And some times not very much. And sometimes none that you would notice. But, over all, lots of work. And you and Kristin are so lovely, such wonderful compliments that I believe you, very much, that you have found someone who wants to do this work with you – and that is good stuff.

  5. This is just lovely.

    Honestly, love is not enough. Not even a whole lot of it.

    The skills are crucial.

    And the two of you certainly do seem to be made of magic. :) Good stuff kid. All the way around.

  6. These are beautiful , intense and clairvoyant words on love . And on how love makes one grow .

    Merci .

  7. Wow, after reading your posts, I often turn to my wife (I *LOVE* calling her that) and remark that I could've written that, if only I could write. What I mean by that is it seems that you and I are often in similar places on our journeys, though when you look at our lives, they couldn't've been more different. (Of course, it's unfair to you to say that, since you have no idea what my life has been.)

    Anyhow, thank you for sharing so much of yourself with us (mostly?) anonymous readers. I can't tell you how much your writings have resonated (and helped) me in the last few years.

  8. Thanks for sharing this with us. I’m at a similar place, but feeling daunted by the amount of work that we both must undertake. And, the thing is, I need her commitment to the work to even begin it.

    But, it was very helpful to me to read this. It helps me sort out a few basics, providing some sign posts on the way to being healthier and happier.

    Thanks.

  9. I second that. You are articulate and unpick the stuff that most of us are too busy (or too timid) to explore in our own relationships. And yes, working out/working through all the triggers left by each party's respective exes is a LOT of work and can take a lot of patience and trust and love. I CURSE my husbutch's exes for the careless wounds I still tend, but am GRATEFUL to them for letting her go so that she got to marry ME ;-D

  10. Relationships can be so tricky but who ever said falling for someone was easy? If you persevere for long enough it all tends to come good in the end.

  11. I just wanted to thank you so much for writing this post. I don't know why, but I really needed to hear it at this time.

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  1. How Do I Let Go of a Past Hurt? – Sugarbutch Chronicles

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