My take on the proverb that says, “don’t throw stones if you live in a glass house.” Is this proverb about not being a hypocrite or something else? More like, if you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.
Oh, did I dish it out last week. Do I feel better getting even? Hell no. I feel worse. Yes, I was shit on. Many times. Yes, I took it. Many times.
Who’s really here to blame? Him? Or me? Remember the saying, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” And, certainly, if you fool me 20 times, shame on me 20 times. It’s my turn to take ownership for my behavior for the past year and a half.
It’s me. It’s my addiction. My addiction to heal from. Not his. Relationship and love addictions are REAL addictions. Romantic love is NOT, nor should it be, the most important thing in our lives. But when love is not received nor felt from birth on, it feels like it will always be the missing piece in our lives. If you have read any of my other blogs, you will know that I come from a tri-fecta of fuckedupness. Abandonment, sexual abuse, non-validation and rejection are all at the core of my very being. Again, not his issue but mine. And mine solely to heal. When “love bombed” (thank you Jenny for that term) after a romantic loveless marriage and loveless childhood, you hang on for dear life. I hung on for dear life. I took all the mental and emotional abuse. I should have kicked his ass to the curb. But I didn’t. My doing. Not his. Why couldn’t I say, “Fuck you. Have a nice life.” And mean it. After the first time, I realized he lied to me, I should have. But I didn’t. That is my regret. If we continue to let partners walk all over us, they will. Trust me. They will. If you let them.
The power of addictions can consume us. All of us. Every now and then, reality slaps me in the face. Yes. My children. They don’t need some love addicted mother that is neglecting them so that she can get her unmet childhood needs resolved. This is a very real issue. Please read the link below if you have these same love/relationship addition issues. These come from traumatic events from your childhood. We have to learn to let go when it simply isn’t healthy nor balanced. Lori Jean Glass is an expert in this. She did her best to help me.
Yes, he would constantly give me mere crumbs, as I hung on ever so tightly waiting for more. When a man tells you he loves you after 2 weeks, don’t believe it. Let it grow and mature. Nourish it. If it blooms after a year, then, maybe just maybe, it’s love. Otherwise, it’s merely a temporary euphoric high. If a roller coaster ensues after 2 months, get off of it. Take a step back. Most of us are on our best behavior the first couple of months. Then day to day reality steps in. And the imposter is replaced with the real person. Don’t fall in love with the imposter. Wait til the real person comes out. Then you can choose to love that person. Not the imposter.
I made that fatal mistake. I fell in love with the imposter. Not the real person. And I hung on waiting for that real person to show back up. He didn’t. So I accepted the mental anguish. And for what? So that I could rip him a new one and get even. Who wins? Nobody. All that’s left is an empty soul who took another down. Neither one of us can undo the damage. Him to me. Me to him.
So, as I sit here throwing stones (writing scathing blogs) from behind my wooden door (aka my laptop), I, too, live in a glass house. I take ownership in all of this. I failed to be strong. I failed to see the signs. I failed in making the decision to take him down too. I failed at getting even.
Ironic. I can be successful at so much and such a failure at the same time. Strong in every area of my life but not my love life. I’m successful despite my parents. Not because of them. But they are still dangling that carrot. That ubiquitous love carrot. It’s within reach but I still can’t seem to reach it.
Photo by Simon Muller
