7 years of silence.

7 years of silence.

I am grateful for the long, life changing 7 years where I did not talk to an ex-boyfriend. The heartbreak was intense, my first major one. After a year and half of long distance relationship, he choose to move even father away. To the wrong coast. The wrong choice, in my heart broken eyes.

This was also compounded by the fact that my mother had just been given a diagnosis we all suspected- Alzheimer’s. It certainly was a time for loss and upheaval in my life.

 

 

But what those 7 years brought me? Today’s moment. One, in which I shared so much with someone I used to deeply know, and in doing so, realize how much I have changed.

 

I thanked him for the time- even though I may have needed less. I learned to let it go, to forgive, to sit with it and push past the hurt, the old narrative of that story- and honestly I’m not sure if I could have rushed this.

 

By reconnecting so many years later, I was able to see myself differently. He had last known me as a free, passionate 20 something. Now, at the verge of mid-thirties,  I am so different. I’m learning to let go of perfection and expectations. To go against what feels like my own grain- of excessive planning and plotting so that life turns out ‘perfectly’. I know I am actually coming back to my true & deeper self, but I have spent years operating in a way that once “worked”- be good, be as close to perfect as possible, be successful, be productive, because this is your worth. (It’s hard to change.)

 

So after sharing how I have taken a year off, and that I’m trying these new mindsets on for size, his shock was palpable! “Who are you?!?” he cried as we laughed about it. Who were once were.  And it was uplifting for me.

 

Wow. How I have changed. I love myself more, am more comfortable with myself, even as I still seek to know more. I see that certain ways of living no longer serve me. I’m peeling those old layers off, finding the tender center.

 

But I also missed the dreaming that he and I used to do. Of where we would live, what our futures would hold – where life would take us, maybe we’d be lay missioners in a foreign country with our kids!

 

I didn’t realize that I don’t dream as much. Or without expectation that it will actually happen. Just to envision it.  There is something dead in my soul that doesn’t always see life as exciting, or interesting to live. But talking to him about being missioners- that reminded me that life can indeed be incredible and fascinating.

I’m not sure why I have lost that part of me. Something tells me it is in death. The death of so many loved ones in a short time. My dreams stopped being in the forefront when I was preparing for the dying days of my parents.

 

There is no blame in this. Again, I don’t think I could have survived those years any other way. But I want to get back my light. My life. My zest & zeal- my belief that life can be unbelievable and adventurous. Right now. It doesn’t feel that way.

 

So that will be what I want for this year- to feel energized and enthusiastic about my life.  This might….this will mean taking risks. Not resting on my laurels, or past successes, or my worn brown couch. It will mean reflection, and action. Resting & new life.

 

I don’t know how. I don’t know where or when. But I know it needs to happen.

 

For 7 years, I needed that silence. And for my present, I needed the reminder of how far of I have come, and that it is time to pick up an identify scattered at the wayside- the dreamer. I have grown in beautiful & profound ways.

 

Truly, I can’t wait to see what is next.

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