Letting go: 3. LOVE

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For some time, I have felt this air of woefulness about me, along with an emptiness when I realised that I have gone through this entire year ‘feeling’ so very little love.  It saddens me greatly, when I think of all that I have so freely dispersed to friends, (in particular) and family, and how little I have actually felt coming back.  It has left me feeling quite lonely and isolated, as I fear, giving out anymore to anyone who doesn’t appreciate it, for what it is. bb5ea-to2bremember2bwho2byou2bare

Knowing that I’ve been on someone’s mind, getting a quick message to check on how I’m doing, spending time just catching up, talking on the phone, being told that I’ve been missed by someone, makes me feel loved.  All these little things don’t really need to take much time or effort at all, but somehow everyone’s been too busy, or they just want to talk about themselves.

I have felt quite hurt by the lack of that kind of love.  So much so, it has caused me to yet again go through the ‘life laundry’ process of re-evaluating some of the people in my life.  A process I seem to go through every few years, which has finally taught me that I am spending too much time, energy and effort on the wrong people.

I am naturally a kind and giving person, it goes against the grain for me to standby and do or say nothing, when I recognise pain in someone, especially when I know I can be of help.  But it would seem that’s just how I need to be, even though it’s going to be a hard habit to break.

46933401_203824973879851_3954533898762846208_nThe lessons I have learned from this have broken my heart at times and left me completely confused, trying to understand why things had gone wrong.  It took a while before it hit me that it wasn’t even my problem, it was theirs and the way they chose to see things.  But one person’s discontented whispers can travel far, and I wonder to myself, ‘Was I like this at their age?’ and then I hope to God that I wasn’t.  Perhaps having reached the age of 51, I can see their insecurities and lack of confidence quite clearly; maybe that’s why they just don’t get me.

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through, to achieve that beauty”.

Maya Angelou

I often say to people that

“The only reason we get hurt by other people, is because we care for them”, 

and

“We are not betrayed by our enemies, but by our friends and loved ones”.

Both statements are very simple truths, so I guess the question I need to ask myself is:

  1. Why do I care?”.
  2. Why do I continue to give time and show kindness to people, when they have systematically disrespected or abused me?
  3. Am I that desperate to be with them, that I will accept anything?

The answers to these questions are:

  1. I have absolutely no idea
  2. Sub-consciously maybe I am hoping they might change
  3. Fuck no

Now I know the answers, I realise that I have been incredibly fucking stupid!44953681_2063941743917987_7052957489741955072_n 46933401_203824973879851_3954533898762846208_n

Stupid in the sense that I had been sucked into and absorbed by their bullshit antics and immaturity, just because I had foolishly made myself believe that they actually gave a shit about me.

But I have distanced myself from those kind of people now, I really don’t want to play their silly games and I certainly won’t share my private life with them.  All they know, is that each time they see me now, I always look better in their eyes and they need to press me to know why.

To me, if they aren’t bothered to know about my everyday life, why should they be interested in my private life?  So, fuck them, I’ll keep them guessing!

I am not afraid of removing or losing people from my life, if they have shown themselves to be unworthy.  I have made progress by stepping away because by not giving my time and love to them, it means I have more time and love to lavish on me, and it really has been quite liberating.

I know I have been stupid!  But not anymore, I have now drawn a heavy line underneath all that and moved the hell on.

Sharon carter-Wray

(31stDecember 2016)

Update:

What can I say?  All I know is that when I initially wrote this, it was coming from a place full of pain.  But I am pleased to say that over the last 2 years I have continued to re-evaluate the people in my life, and what they really do for or mean to me. It has given me so much clarity, and I am fully aware of where I stand within my close social environment.

Where once I might have internalised all questions and feelings of self-doubt, I am now empowered enough instead, to hold a strong belief that if someone has an issue with me, which they can’t discuss with me… then it really is their problem and not mine… 🙂

Sharon

(Updated: Tuesday 5th February 2019)

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One of my favourite quotes.  Sx 🙂

Published by Sharon Carter-Wray

I have been writing since I was 13 years old and I am now 52. It all began with a writing poetry project for school, and it has continued to evolve. It was a time that coincided with my brother’s seriously ill health, and his subsequent death from that illness; and writing was my way of dealing with that. As part of a ‘Life laundry’ exercise about 20 years ago, I destroyed a large part of my written work, mainly because I finally understood how it tied me to a place, that I never wanted to revisit again in my lifetime. It was also the mark of a turning point, recognizing my continual growth and healing. I find that writing is a way of releasing thoughts and untangling my complex mind, it always nourishes and makes me feel better. Even if sometimes my own words bring tears to my eyes. But I have noted over time, that the tears have become less. Even if the subject that caused them still hurts. In more recent years I have created and write for my own blog, called “Journey through a painful body and depressed mind”, as well as contributing to an online mental health site called “Mental Movement”. Both of these have witnessed my deepest and most desperate moments, whilst dealing with my own issues of depression and my failing physical health. I have written hundreds of poems over the years, expressing everything from joy, deep sorrow, bereavement to starting over again; it is definitely something I do when I need to restore balance. And they are written on all sorts of things, whatever was available to me at the time when the words chose to pour out of me; so they amount to quite a collection. I used to say that, “if anyone were to pick them up and read them, they would be holding ‘The book of my life story’ in their hands”. And that is still true to some degree today, but now I also express myself through my art & creativity, and the beautiful things that I create. A lot of what I am posting, was written as a teenager over 30 years ago, so please note the date at the end of each entry. However, in most cases, the contents are still very appropriate and ring very true today. I always knew back then, that I was wise beyond my years, and looking back now it’s almost as though I already knew what lay ahead of me. It’s as if my words were the very seed of my true vocation, as now I believe that writing is very much a part of my future and something I must do. I have only ever shared my written words with a few people in my life before, but now I feel brave enough to put myself out there and share with the world. I hope you enjoy. Sx

Free expression, Letting go

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