-AM

Mother, is that why you left me? Did you know the shame I was destined to carry?

I cannot remember the last time I wasn’t drowning in embarrassment.

Even when I reread what I’ve written, I feel like an animal swallowing its own blood after it has already been slaughtered.

I’ve carried this heart for 23 years, yet I still don’t feel comfortable with all the emotions it holds.

How can my own heart feel like such a burden?

Is that what Atlas felt, carrying the heavens?

Where am I supposed to put all this guilt? All this shame? All this sadness? All this anger? All this love?

Where does one set them down when they’re too heavy to carry?

God, how many prayers will be enough to lessen the weight? How many times must I fall on my knees?

Ever since I was young, I knew there was something odd within me. I never fit in. I was consistently left out.

In my teenage years, my presence felt inconsequential. It did not matter whether I was there or not.

I would spend countless hours alone in my room, occupying myself with different things. Sometimes, I would be too anxious to go out and be perceived by other people my age.

When it came to romantic love, my life had been devoid of it. I did not feel enough or worthy of it.

Now, as an adult, not many things have changed besides my ability to veil my feelings.

No one prepares you for the little lonely girl within you, constantly begging to be proven wrong.

I have found peace in my solitude, but the truth is I never had a choice.

“But now, standing here, looking at him, it's like I'm seeing clearly. The pedestal I put him on crumbles before my eyes, and what's left is... nothing. No magic, no connection, no spark. Just a man who happened to fit the shape of the love I was longing for.“

-Unknown

I often find myself thinking about this quote. Quite embarrassingly, I don’t think I have related to something more. Ever since I was a child all I could think about was finding love. Love love love. The weight of this 4-letter word has been so unbearably heavy in both my heart and mind. It has led me down roads I never meant to walk, doors I should’ve closed. It has made me seen potential in people that never actually held it. Or did they?

«But he’s a good guy, he’s just hurt. I promise he is not bad. He has potential he just needs to heal and grow!» I found myself whispering. «You need to let that man go, he’s bad for you». My friends replied. But who was I trying to convince? Them or me? Why was I so desperately trying to prove myself right despite his actions showing the exact opposite?

I painted such a beautiful picture of him in my mind. His words fit the exact fairytale I had always dreamed of. But his actions ripped every edge of my «masterpiece». The masterpiece I so foolishly created out of desperation. Because quite honestly there was nothing “special” or “different” about him. I was the one who put him on a pedestal. The one who decided to stay because I saw something in him. Something that didn’t exist in the first place.

Looking back at it I feel nothing but embarrassment. Why did I allow myself to be continuously disrespected? Why did I keep denying the truth?

Because I was desperate. I was desperate to be loved and picked by someone I had to “earn”. Getting picked by him would feel like redemption. It would mean that I deserved to be loved despite my flaws and circumstances. I had placed him so high above me, so far out of reach that his love would equal salvation. I created a romanticized version of him in my head which didn’t align with who he was. And here comes the big question: Does potential in people actually exist or is it something that we create to avoid facing uncomfortable truths?

I believe it is a mix both. Yes, everyone has potential within them but a lot of the time an individual in love will see potential in someone because they’re in denial. We are humans after all and we operate with our ego. It takes courage and humility to accept that someone simply may not feel the same way about you. Especially when you’re in love, those rose coloured glasses will unfortunately get in the way. Love has the tendency of making you view people for who you want them to be instead of who they actually are. How many times have you had conversations with people in your head? How many times have you imagined scenarios that never played out in real life? Me? Countless. I rationalized their actions, weaving assumptions just to make sense of it all in an attempt to avoid facing the truth. Even if their so called potential does exist, how can I be expected to recognize it when their behaviour consistently contradicts it? At some point, we have to stop waiting for people to become who they could be and start accepting who they choose to be.

So, I let go- of the version of them I keep holding onto. The one I defended in conversations, my mind, even against evidence and patterns. I view them for who they show themselves to be, not for who I imagined them to be. The space between who I envisioned them to be and who they were no longer haunted me. Instead, it freed me. The moment I released the illusion, I reclaimed my truth. I see them now, not as a question to be solved, but as an answer I finally accepted.

When I reread what I’ve written, I feel like an animal swallowing its own blood after it has already been slaughtered.