Day 3: On Things Lately (A Little Late)

Well, only three days in and I'm already late with a post. I'm going to cut myself some slack because, (1) between waking and sleeping, I  was only home for all of 15 minutes yesterday and, (2) I think the addition of a Lenten discipline is something one has to grow into. Unlike a fast, where stamina and perseverance are stronger at the beginning of the forty days, a new discipline is a practice that has to be adopted, put on, broken in. I think it's going to take me some time to step back into this practice of writing , and hopefully I'll get better and more disciplined about it as Lent progresses. But, despite the lateness of this post, I can honestly say that my daily writing is already something I'm thinking about consistently and looking forward to completing. I'm excited again to sit down and share my thoughts. So for that reason, I think I'm on the right track.

But, because this is indeed a late post, I've decided to challenge myself in an additional way in writing it. These last two days have been difficult for me and I want to wade into why that has been so.  I'm nervous to do so because these forthcoming thoughts betray things about myself that I'd rather prefer to keep tucked away. However, I intend this writing project to be an outlet for my thoughts, my musings, my frustrations, my questions--I want these things to flow freely out of myself instead of remaining bottled up inside. So here's to the version of myself that doesn't have it all together, that isn't tied up with a neat bow. Here's to that person who still lacks much of the confidence and surety of self and purpose that she so strongly desires.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that my most recent undoing has been a result of Valentine's Day. No, make that a definite embarrassment to admit that. I would fancy myself stronger than one who is emotionally subject to the practice of this odd cultural phenomenon we deem "holiday." I do think it's nice that we have a day to celebrate love and one another--to honor caring relationships of all sorts. But I don't like the pressure that accompanies it all, this forced definition of self based on one's present engagement in relationship.

To me, Valentine’s Day without a Valentine is like public speaking—it’s not something that I fear or despise with any rational part of my being, but when the moment is upon you, some innate instinct takes over and you find yourself with sweaty palms, churning stomach, and pounding heart without really knowing why. In the same way that the idea of standing up and speaking before a room full of people doesn't intimidate me until those awful moments right before beginning, neither does Valentine’s Day—in theory--challenge my sense of confidence, poise, or self-hood. However, once the day is upon you, some psychosocial compulsion creeps in to say how unlikable you must be if you are not receiving flowers and candy from an ardent admirer. Ridiculous, nonsensical. Stupidly true. 

On Thursday, I found myself slapped with thoughts and memories about the man with whom I spent the last two Valentine's Days. Emotions that I considered put to rest resurfaced--and though this was somewhat difficult of a process, largely because I wasn't expecting to go through it, it did reaffirm for me that I had something good for a time. I can look back with a removed contentedness that does honor to the time we spent together and to the deep goodness of that person. But at the same time, I know that no matter his goodness or the fondness of the memories, we were all wrong together and are both healthier people apart from one another. 

Then I have these feelings in which I dwell less contently. Over the last two days, I've realized that I'm still harboring a good deal of anger and hurt from the way a more recent dating relationship ended. It feels so polluting to find this anger still within me. I want so badly for it to be purged because it's not worth any more of my energy. Yet I have been forced to face the fact that it's still there. I think what I'm struggling with the most is the continued power I let another person have over me. I hold on to the hope that some healthy resolution will still be made, but by so doing, I permit myself to be angry until that point when wrongs are righted with an apology or an explanation or some show of remorse. But that's nothing more than a continued submission of self to waiting on someone else's choices. That point of resolution may never come. I think one of the biggest things I learned from my  two year relationship is that you simply cannot control another person. Even in relationships, we are all individuals and have the power and the right to make our own decisions. 

Enough wallowing in things gone by. This is me right now--confidence marred, fearful of being hurt, weary of anger..yet still desiring the relationship that one day that will be good and mutual and right. I think that's one of the beautiful things about being people of a God who desires relationship: even when the muck of failed relationships (of all sorts) swells up, we have hope and promise and knowledge that there is something truer-- between one another, in community, and with God.