loosening my grip

It's fall. Life moves forward, as it must.

It feels like nothing is really changing until I look back and see how far I've come in my personal development. I notice myself having stronger boundaries, stricter limits on my energy expenditure, and a cessation of over-giving to people who haven't yet proven themselves safe for emotional investment.

A newer lesson for me – one I've heard my whole life, but only recently metabolized – is that people don't show you the truth about themselves up front. They reveal only small bits and pieces over time. Unlike before, when I projected my own positive qualities onto those I saw potential in, now I know not everyone has those same capabilities. Instead of being a wide open book to any person who shows a glimmer of potential, I now drip feed access to my inner world and patiently watch what they do with it.

The analytical part of me finds this kind of fun, like I'm some sort of covert anthropologist. The tender part of me, despite being beaten bloody and senseless, worries that I'm starting to corrupt my own magic.

Where is the line between healthy caution and impenetrable wall? Will it ever be safe to show my softer side to somebody again, or do I need to walk through this world hardened forever?

I'm human. I want to be loved, cherished, listened to, understood, and wanted. I want somebody to be curious about me the same way I am curious about them. I want to crawl up next to my trusted person and hold them tight after a long day. I want to be able to cry freely and be met with warmth rather than disgust. I want somebody to choose connection over ego preservation. I want to support somebody in their hardest times, and them support me in mine. All in all, I want a trustworthy companion to share my life with.

And yet... that hasn't worked out for me. I know I'm still young, but damn, social media is pervasive and comparison is a bitch. It really hurts being so competent and fully in control of everything else in my life, yet missing the one thing I want more than anything.

Romantic relationships are, by nature, halfway uncontrollable. No matter how well I show up as a partner, I can't force the other person to match me. The scary and beautiful part about loving somebody is that they have free will to walk off at any point. If they choose to remain beside me, it's because they want to, and there is no more amazing feeling than that. And if they don't, well... that's their choice, and I must let them go.

The letting go part.
It is so hard.
And it hurts so much.

Everyone tells me to do it, like it's as simple as tying my shoe, but nobody tells me how to actually do it.

I find myself envious of the trees. They shed their leaves without question nor resistance. I, on the other hand, clutch and ache and argue with the inevitability of letting go.