Two Roads.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost

Thursday, January 23, 2014

The definition of worth

As women we are under constant attack. Our beauty is questioned and we find ourselves constantly evaluating and then reevaluating how valuable we are and what price we can actually put on our worth. We are taught that one day someone will come along and love us the way we should be loved, but what they don't teach us is how to maintain our value while it is constantly being challenged along the way. Commitment is a scary thing, but a lot of things in life are scary. It doesn't stop us from taking that leap of faith. Pictures in magazines, porn, fitness videos, etc always trap women in their own heads. We stand alone and quietly in front of mirrors, mentally altering the imperfections that we associate with what MUST be the reasons why we are so un-loveable. Every night that passes without a phone call or some other form of affirmation, we start down the check list of things we did wrong, things we should have done better. We emotionally strain ourselves to somehow become what that other person wants. We don't really know what they want, we just know that since there is a lack of commitment there must be something we can do better. If only we were in better shape, had a bigger ass and smaller arms; maybe if we were more beautiful and desirable, less needy, less emotional...then....just then, maybe he will show up at our door, take us in his arms and proclaim his undying love for us. It never happens and it never will. And so continues the vicious cycle of sleepless nights of wondering, why? As strong and independent as I am ( I do cherish my alone time) I hate feeling alone. I too am guilty of hoping, wishing, waiting for something deep down I know has a slim to zero chance of coming to fruition. It doesn't matter how much of myself I give, it is never enough. I wish I could say I was strong enough for it to not matter, for me to boldly claim my strength and walk away, but as each painful day passes and each sleepless night, I hide in the shame of just wanting the love I so freely give to be returned. When you give 100% of who you are to someone and it isn't reciprocated you find your love tank getting lower and lower. You wonder how much longer you can go before it is completely empty. When it is empty then what? A complete devaluation of self? Everyone hopes for the fantasy of finding someone who is willing to take on the world by your side...the reality is something entirely different. Not only are you taking on the world by yourself, but you start giving so much of yourself to those you love that pieces of your armor begin to weaken. You try to only rest, collapsing on your knees, bloodied and bruised, when no one is looking. Your heart aches and you forgot long ago that love is suppose to be a safe place. Single people hear the same things all the time: one day someone will come along and make it all better. There is no advice for in the meantime other than pray, work on yourself, learn to be alone....blah blah blah. None of it matters because in your head all you can reason is that they are making up for what you lack with all the other women. You don't want to and try everything you can to stop it from happening, but you wake up one day and find that each tear and small heart break have created bricks that you have carefully and cautiously started to place around your heart. You don't want the wall, but self-preservation can only hold out for so long. The pain becomes too great and the tears become too many. You wonder if your heart can ever be put back together. You just want to be held so tightly that all the pieces stick back together. There are splinters in your bleeding hands for all the times you've tried to put it together on your own, but now, you are just....tired. I just want to be worth loving. I will fight for love...but I shouldn't have to compete.