I woke up this morning feeling really sad. As it was Valentine’s Day on Sunday and my birthday on Monday, my boyfriend came up to visit me for the long weekend. I took him to the airport yesterday, so I guess you could say that this is the calm after the “love storm.” In retrospect, I’m not even exactly sure what we did aside from hike, make out, argue over Netflix and eat lots and lots of popcorn, but it was such a love-filled weekend and I miss him already. I feel like long distance has been really good for us in a lot of ways, but it’s always so much harder when I get a taste of what an in-person relationship actually feels like.
Still feeling down in the dumps, I roll over in bed and grab my phone off my nightstand. I have a voice memo from B-Dizzle (my supes nerdy nickname for the BF). The fun thing about long distance is you start to get reeeeaally creative when it comes to communicating. Lots of voice memos, videos, picture collages, Skype sessions...and tons of singing and dancing and laughing. I listen to his voice memo and it immediately warms my heart. And then it ends. And then I’m sad again. I really miss him.
Rather than starting my morning routine and making an effort to connect spiritually, I decide to sit in my own shit for a little while longer and check Facebook. The first thing I see in my News Feed is the absolute sweetest post from my niece’s boyfriend. (In case you haven’t heard me talk about her before and are a little confused about the family tree, she is technically my half niece, but absolutely has my whole heart.) Anyway, today is their two-year anniversary—they too have been #beatinlongdistance (as they so adorably put it)—and the post was all about faith, gratitude and courageous love. I love them and their positivity so much, and my heart was immediately flooded with gratitude for the courageous love in my own life.
I started to think about courageous love. I have been “in love” a few times before, and in retrospect, it was most definitely not courageous. In one relationship I remember constantly fighting for control, trying to make each other jealous to feel more loved and secure. In another I remember taking advantage of the love, treating him like I knew I could never lose him. And in another I remember a lot of mutual sarcasm and cruelty, using manipulation to “win” various battles. True love? I sure as hell hope not.
I absolutely LOVE how Brené Brown defines love:
“We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection.
Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them—we can only love others as much as we love ourselves.
Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare.”
I had never seen it explained so fully and profoundly before. I mean…she nailed it, right? Looking back at my aforementioned relationships, it’s clear that we failed at pretty much all of it. What is vulnerable about fighting for control? What is respectful about making each other jealous? What is kind about criticism? How can I love someone else if I don’t even love myself? Talk about constantly damaging the roots of love, yet being repeatedly disappointed that I couldn’t keep it alive.
I say courageous love because I think it’s really freaking scary to love according to Brené. Sometimes it seems safer to feel in control. Sometimes it makes us feel better when we put down our partner. Sometimes we feel powerful when we withhold love. But I don’t just want to feel safe, better and powerful. I want real, pure, true, scary, amazing, beautiful, COURAGEOUS love.
For me, self-love and vulnerability are the biggies. When I stop empathizing with myself, I get super critical and hard on my guy. If I can’t be gentle with my own struggles, how can I be gentle with his? And if I am hurting and choose to harden and withhold, it will only push him away. So while I am farrrrrr from perfect at it, I work every single day to show myself love, empathy and forgiveness so that I can do the same for him. I also force myself to open up when all I want to do is shut down. When I feel crazy, I tell him I feel crazy. When I feel hurt, I tell him I feel hurt. I no longer run or punish. I show up and I open up. And he does the same. And today…we love courageously. At least I believe we do.
Now I don’t know why it took me this long, and I also don’t know why now. But maybe after decades of trying everything else I was finally willing to take the risk. Because loving courageously is risky. I may get my heart broken. And it will hurt. Or he may stop loving the real me. And that will hurt. But guess what? I want to be the real me, and I want to be loved…exactly as I am. And I want the same for my partner. So how else can we find this great love unless we brave the risk? Because in my opinion, loving any other way is an even greater risk. It’s cold and lonely…and scary all the same.
So be courageous. Be YOU. And be a superhero for Love. Because this world needs a whole lot more of 'em.
