Calling out someone feels amazing, empowering, cathartic and very, very real. Not because it’s right or moral because it’s the truth. As one stands convicted in their thoughts, opinions, feelings, there is no other place to go. Thus, another step closer to accepting my beliefs, striving for my own truth.
The role of pacifist, accommodator, the acquiescence of the past, further away and I am healing. The scar lightens, less deep than once was almost two years ago. Moments like this that clarity grazes past my face – a delicate shooting comet; vibrant, quick, resolved.
I spoke up, got up the nerve and asked my ex a direct question. Sure it was in text form, though, texting seems to be the communication of choice for us. His response not surprising; deflected, distant, insinuating. I got pissed. But it was more than anger. His response, my response to his response, another incredible amount of insight hit me and it came in this form of a conversation.
When I told him I would no longer allow myself to be treated and spoken to with disrespect, ex didn’t understand what I meant, that he was not disrespectful, rather just being honest with me. Oh, perceptions, how they differ! Instead of my usual defensiveness, coaxing my own version by over-explaining as usual, an unlikely turn: I called him on his answer and then shut up. Yep, texting silenced, the decision to disengage. And then it was over. Well, for me, it was. And is. For you see, I believe I am finally cured. Cured from the need to defend my thoughts, opinions, merely to make sure the other isn’t perturbed at me. I told ex that we don’t get each other and that’s OK. It is OK. It is who we are. I don’t live with him anymore, no longer emotionally attached. Newsflash: I am a divorced woman.
I think that’s what’s been so hard letting go of, the emotional attachment. Maybe there’s been a part of me that still wished for the kind of care and compassion I so longed for from him. It’s taken me a long time to slowly leave his grasp, my desire to be accepted, dissolved, replaced with a stronger sense of comfort of who I am and where I’m heading. Mistakes I’ve made (many of them devastating) over the last few years, one sure thing remains clear: self-ownership. I fucked up, I blew it, I made some shitty decisions. Owning up to shitty decisions, while doesn’t lessen the consequences of actions, eventually offers its very own reward: self-respect.
This post, a reminder that we are ALL infallible. We all fuck up, make shitty decisions. We become accustomed to certain roles, what we know, our comfort zone remains in tact. Until we shake things up a bit, deliberately. That’s exactly what I’m doing, one conversation at a time.