“TRUE LOVE NEVER FAILS” OR, AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS….

If this is true, why have so many of us claimed to have met “the one” just to painstakingly break up?  Why have we spent months, years, and even decades with these significant people all to have the relationship come to a screeching halt? 

I’m sure there are plenty of answers, but what if it simply means we hadn’t found our real “true love”.  We found love, yes, but perhaps that love was meant to change us, mold us, and prepare us for the love we truly want and deserve.

Some (lucky assholes) find that earth shattering love right away and work hard on it to ensure they fall back in love with each other as often as they can. Others spend their whole lives bouncing from relationship to relationship hoping that each time could be “it” but never really find true happiness in themselves or others.

No matter the situation, as far as I’m concerned, people who have been brave enough to be in love are still some of the strongest. Case in point, up until a year ago, I hadn’t allowed myself to ever be close enough to anyone outside of family or friends to know that I was capable of the feeling on a different level.

I grew up in a household where my parents loved my brother and me unconditionally but didn’t often express the love they had for each other. There were communication barriers that lead to fights, fights that lead to a decrease in displays of affection, and a lack of attention that lead to a lesser feeling of worth on both sides. For the most part, I was oblivious to all of this as a child, but thanks to therapy and a lot of self-reflection, I’ve figured out on a deeper level why when it came to love, I was so fucked up - I had no example of what it really meant.

This lead to flirtations in high school, that lasted only weeks before I got bored, nonexistent dating life in college (aside from the one Romanian guy I met at my gym that I was convinced was a vampire), and a rocky start to things in my early 20’s when I had my first official “date”.

My sample pool of men and the role they played in my life was not a positive one and continued on a downward spiral as I allowed myself to mistake affection and attention for good intention and true connection.  I had fallen into a pattern. Meet a guy, be blinded by his looks, allow for a million red flags to pass, and eventually end up crying while finishing off a bottle of wine after I had given him his last chance FOR THE THIRD TIME. 

In true “me” fashion, I only allowed for a short pity party before I’d bounce right back, blocking off another piece of myself promising to never be hurt again. Some would call that emotionally damaged but I called it my superpower. I was proud of it and used it until I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

By my mid 20’s, I was exhausted, guarded, and completely broken inside. I felt as if all my past experiences had proven my point “the closer you get to someone, the better chance you have of getting hurt.” This also really hammered in my view of love. I considered it a weakness. I had seen it make smart people do stupid things, and always end in hurt on either side.

  MY MESSY LOVE STORY STARTS HERE…

Among a plethora of other shitty things to happen to me in 2018, I had officially hit my breaking point with dating. The guy I had been seeing, not only left for an entire month without warning but also put a hold on our relationship due to a lack of sex. Which, in my case, was caused by a laundry list of medical problems that began that same year. I was done. I swore off men for an entire year and focused on what I wanted.  In that time, I built my company, started to repair the emotional damage that had previously taken place, and spent time getting to know myself a whole lot better. By year-end, I felt as if I were ready to give this whole dating thing another round. This time, maybe even a bit less guarded (**cue the gasps)

I hopped on the dating apps the second week of January and started swiping through to find my prince charming. What could go wrong, right? I was immediately disappointed. Hours of swiping and not one possible prospect, until one day that all changed…

 We met on Tinder  - the place all great love stories should begin - and he captivated me immediately. He (who shall remain nameless for the entirety of this article) had kind eyes, a smile that made my heart skip a beat, a strong, but approachable presence, and a very calm demeanor. Not to mention I could barely look at him without blushing as I noticed the vast amounts of tattoos peeking out from what looked like a very strategically chosen shirt.  I knew right then and there in the very loud bar that he was about to impact my life in a big way, but I hadn’t even begun to imagine the magnitude.

I had always prayed for a man that was able to challenge me yet, support me and BOY did God deliver! I told him I didn’t like PDA, he first kissed me in a movie theater, I told him about my business, my dreams, and the goals I had for my life and instead of being intimidated, he asked how he could help. God had given me exactly what I wanted and I didn’t know what the hell to do with him! Try to hold my hand in public? How dare he! Ask to see me more than once a week? Was he crazy? Tell me I’m beautiful without makeup? He really had to think I was stupid right?

I put my guard up and tried to dismiss his other acts of kindness with no luck. He was understanding and opted for communication on the issues instead of letting them pass. This type of dynamic was completely foreign to me and continued allowing hurtful memories from my dating past to disappear and be replaced by better, much more positive ones. I trusted him, respected him and didn’t quite know how to process everything happening.  I found myself saying things I knew I didn’t mean like “well, you know we could both meet different people at any time” and “let’s not plan too far in advance, we never know what’s going to happen.” When in reality all I could think was “wow, I care about him more every day and that scares me to death. What if he just decides he doesn’t like me anymore?” and “I don’t want to make plans with him in fear of getting hurt.”  Though my heart, my friends and my family were all telling me to jump in with both feet, I still hesitated. This feeling couldn’t have been real, right? There’s no way I could care for a stranger that I barely even know this much. He soon consumed my every thought. My day didn’t feel complete without hearing from him, I slept better when I was with him (which was a HUGE thing because I like my space) and I knew my friends and family would love him.

It was at this point I knew I really cared for him, but still proceeded with hesitation. I was extra cautious and looked for any red flag I could find. Most were small things we were able to talk about and move past, but the one giant red flag I couldn’t ignore was his ex-girlfriend’s name popping up on his caller ID. Having been cheated on and downright lied to multiple times before, I took that flag, blew it up, and used it as a shield to cover all else that he was doing to show me he cared.  The conversation around the issue stayed open and all I could do was appreciate the honesty around it.  

I felt he accepted and understood me and even though our ways of communication got crossed at times, we always figured things out.  I started to break down my wall piece by piece and shared things with him that still he only knows to this day. As our relationship progressed, both he and I were put in vulnerable situations much more sensitive than we were used to. We supported each other and were there for one another every step of the way. Navigating flawlessly through each obstacle. Our partnership in those times gave me hope that if we could survive all life had thrown at us in a matter of months; there wasn’t anything we couldn’t get through. That had to have been a good sign, right?

The truth is, whether it was a good sign or not, it didn’t matter. I was already in love with him – I just didn’t quite know it yet. It wasn’t until he shifted our dynamic by expressing his need to work on his own self-growth before being with another person that made me realize how deeply I felt.

 I remember the conversation clearly. What was said, what made him come to this conclusion, and how earth-shattering it was for me to hear. Each word out of his mouth, while honest, felt like a knife straight into my heart – each cutting deeper and deeper. I held back tears, and in turn, said very little of what I wished I had screamed at the top of my lungs to help him understand how I felt.  All the pain and hurt from previous relationships came flooding back as I again had proved my theory of “the closer you get to someone the better chance you have of getting hurt.” At that very moment, the person I had become over the duration of our time together was gone.  My love for him remained, but anger and hurt filled the wounds he had made in my heart.

Against my better judgment and the advice of everyone around me, we continued to see each other and worked on creating a new definition for the roles we now played in each other’s lives.  It went well at first, but as time passed I realized I no longer knew how to be around him. It wasn’t easy like it was before - but restricted. There was no more holding hands while walking to the car, no more good morning texts, no more kisses and no more certainty that I was the only woman in his life. What I wanted to say was “I love you” but what came out instead was jealousy of other women in his life, a higher level of sensitivity to his jokes and many awkward conversations which stemmed from us still acting like partners when we should have stayed in our place as friends.

My love, in combination with the many other feelings happening at once, made me become like the insecure women I had promised never to emulate. In addition, as I spent months stumbling down our road to being “just friends”, my feelings didn’t disappear but instead deepened. Each time I saw him, I was reminded of why I fell for him in the first place.

A few months into our confusing “friendship” journey, and no thanks to the tequila-filled night, the word “love” finally made it out in the open - surprisingly not from me. “It doesn’t help that we both love each other” came out as much a surprise to me as it was to him. After the statement was made, he opened up, explaining how much I meant to him and how he never thought one person could mean so much to him. My mind raced with thoughts. My immediate reaction was to feel full, happy and as if all the confusion from the last few months had been worth it, but on the other hand, I wondered if all of this had been a drunken confession he’d soon regret. Either way, a sense of relief flowed over me as I could now say the three little words I had wanted to for such a long time. “I love you” flew out of my mouth and had never seemed so natural yet scary at the same time.

A few days later, still high off the words that had been spoken before, I expressed that not only did I love him, but also, I was IN love with him (a huge confession and realization for myself).  Moments later, as told by the heavy sigh in his voice, I learned that his love was not similar to mine, or at least still not enough for him to want to make a full commitment. Once again, he had damaged my heart and hurt me deeper than before.

In the weeks after, I attempted to process how someone who claimed to love me would still not want to be with me after all we had been through. I was mad at him, and myself.  How dare he lead me on.  How dare he use those three dangerous words without meaning it. I was furious but tried to remember that there are two sides to every story. Had I managed to romanticize something that was never there?

 Fast forward almost three years  since my story began and I wish I could tell you I’m healed and over it, but the truth is I’m not. Heartbreak takes time to heal from. It doesn’t happen overnight, or by hurriedly going on dates with people you know you won’t give a chance, (been there done that).  It takes good ol’ processing and understanding. This brings me to my most important question in all of this.

 “How does someone who’s become so important to me, stay in my life

without letting my feelings get in the way?”

 

The answer? They can’t.  At least not without accepting that it will take a lot of hard work on both sides to keep any type of relationship thereafter alive.

When someone has that big of an impact on your life, feelings, no matter how deeply buried, will occasionally come up and haunt the relationship. Especially, if you’re like me and still have one with the person you love/loved. Whether it’s a comparison to the new person they’re dating, a trigger that stems from a harmless joke they make, or a place that reminds you of a good time you once had, when you’ve loved someone, the feeling never fully leaves. It may change at times and when you are truly happy with someone else, feel as if it never existed, but the imprint it’s made on you and your heart is always there.

This is all part of what changes us, molds us, and prepares us for what God has in store for us all in finding our “true love.” This specific situation (while it didn’t quite have the happy ending I was hoping for) has shown me that I can be vulnerable and that I am capable of love. For that lesson I am grateful. Now that I understand what real love feels like, I know I will find someone who loves me as much as I loved him - that will be my happy ending.

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Britt is a savvy marketing & branding entrepreneur by day and a writer by night. Fuelled by coffee (or wine depending on the day) she writes about the good, the bad, and everything in between when it comes to relationships, mental health and all together just making it through life.