Wednesday, 26 February 2014

Just because it burns doesn't mean you're going to die

There's territory that is scary to me and territory that isn't. Territory I see as easy and territory I see as terrifying. Juggling the work/stay at home mum thing to me is scary. Missing out on time that could be spent with her before she starts school makes me a little panicky. I want her to remember me as the Mum who juggled but who hung about with her on a Tuesday afternoon. I don't want her main memories of her toddler years to be of the inside of a nursery five days a week.
 
  Raising Ava to have a sense of responsibility, manners & values?

Not so scary. 

Her starting school?

Also not that scary.

The prospect of her becoming even more of a diva when she turns 3?

Nah, I'm ready for it.

But there is one thing that terrifies me....

The thing I have never been particularly brilliant at is the beginning of a new relationship. That sort of venture into the unknown. While I love the butterflies, that first bit always brings with it a sort of panicky feeling for me. A rising sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I can't seem to get rid of and that nags at the back of my mind.

My reaction to that has always been to freak out a little bit. In fact I have never had a relationship where I haven't thrown my toys out of the pram at the beginning in some way or another. I've put the breaks on for no apparent reason other than my own self-indulgence. Insisted on entire weeks of no contact purely just to indulge my own arrogance. Then there was the time I went underground for a month. My entire life flashed before my eyes at the prospect of settling down and I ran away from the situation.

It's got me thinking recently about why I do that and wondering if we all get like that? Am I really so self-involved that I think I reserve some God given right to behave this way? What makes me special or different to anyone else? Perhaps we all go through these feelings? It's just some of us deal with them a little better?

 So am I cynical? Is there any point even venturing into a relationship if you are so convinced it is doomed to fail? I genuinely don't think I am that much of a pessimist. I like to think I am quite a happy soul. Not the type to be foolish enough to risk something without giving it a proper chance. But I do tend to always prepare for the worst and I often spend too much time considering that it might not work.

This typical over-analysing of mine has brought with it the dawning realisation that it's not the relationship I am scared of but rather the break-up. And that's just stupid.

And arrogant.
A bit spoilt.
Maybe even selfish.
And definitely immature.

Break-ups happen. To everyone. Sometimes it hurts like hell. Sometimes the pain is so bad you think you will never feel your old self ever again.

Other times you walk away the slightly less injured party. Not through anyone's fault but maybe because  you just don't grieve in the same way the other person does. Maybe they loved you more. Maybe they are more in touch with their emotions. Or perhaps they were just never the right person for you in the first place.

Sometimes there's just nothing left to save. Sometimes it's not about who got hurt more. Or who loved more. Sometimes its just about the fact that you no longer work together as a team and trying to deal with that as painlessly as possible. For both you and everyone else around you.

But what I have learned is that you can't be scared of it. You can't hide or run away from it. You might get hurt. They might get hurt. It might move at the speed of lightning and then be over just as quick. Someone might cheat. Someone might move away. Someone might wake up one morning and decide they don't want to be with you anymore. 

Either way, break-ups happen.

Life happens.

And maybe it's time I finally grew up?

8 comments:

P said...

I can totally identify with you on this, pretty much 100 percent.x

Collette R said...

I feel (felt?) exactly the same way. Even after I identified the problem, it happens every now and then. Since me and my son's dad finished, I was afraid to date again, tarring all men with the same brush. A year down the line, I started dating someone that I knew for years, who knew the story and knew all of my crazy. I had a mini freakout at him the other night, because I only ever see him when he comes to my house. Which I'm generally okay with, because I can wear my pyjamas and drink wine without any makeup while he's here to keep me company. But I decided that he must be getting bored with the situation, so tried to end it. I think it's time I started recognising my own crazy! I think it's just a case of recognising your own insecurities and calling yourself on it! In any case, best of luck getting back into dating!

Collette
inkedhibiscus.blogspot.ie
xo

Penny LilliesandLove said...

I think these are normal feelings, or at least they are for me. I go about life happy but always with a fear in the back of my mind that it might all fall apart. It's madness cos all we're doing is self torturing, but I think it's a side affect of caring.

Penny xx
www.lilliesandlove.co.uk

Kaya La Roche said...

I am all kinds of crazy at the beginning. I thought it was normal. I keep dumping them, like to give them an out?! Mental. Xx

Dawniepopsies said...

My next post is going to be about how we're all completely fucking mental anyway ;) x

Dawniepopsies said...

And you! And I hope he came back to watch you drink wine in your pyjamas ;) x

Dawniepopsies said...

It definitely is, if we didn't care then we probably wouldn't be with the person in the first place! xx

Dawniepopsies said...

Hahaaa. I can relate to this! Giving someone an 'out' is my party trick ;) x