relationship fastball.

I had an emotional relapse in a way that I did not expect it to unfold, and the wound that gaped open was one that had not seeped in a while. It was a wound from a childhood I have never really spoken up about, but one that required me to infer my immediate reality and brought me back to a time when I had learnt how to read the room well not because I wanted to, but because I needed to to feel safe. I have always been told that I am more self-aware and perceptive than others, and that I seemingly know things before they are announced. I have always carried this with joy and grief, cause doing so always sends my nervous system to multiple spaces.

I am not angry at the friend that triggered the relapse, and if anything it helped remind me that we are both imperfect people holding space for each other in grace and gratitude. We were able to talk through the experience a week later and I realized that love empowered the decisions we made, and from the other, we understood where we were coming from. I respected their decision as I likely would have done the same had I been in their shoes, and they respected my directness. There was no blame but maturity in how we realized that we care for each other more than we realize. They understood where I came from and I think that was far more important than the tension that I felt, and I understood their why, and did not force blame. It was clear that this would not have been the case had love and trust not been at the foundation of our friendship.

I have always known that I aspire to intentional communication but I think the reality of that is that I do not want to be kept guessing if the reality I am making up in my head is true, because for any trauma survivor who has felt the burden and fear of not being able to trust their reality, the anxiety of not knowing if they can trust their instincts is one that isolates control away from safety. I found myself in a space once more where I had to question the reality I was living, and for anyone who has had to question their reality, the fumbling for certainty is terrifying. Over communication has been my way to compensate, but lately I’ve come to realize that it has forced a mold over my relationships in a way that made them less organic and confined them to a space they had to grow into not perhaps what they should be.

If there is one thing I can flag to anyone who is choosing to build a relationship with me is the following: You don’t owe me the destination, just please don’t make me think I’m imagining the journey. I know life is messy and complicated. I have seen and heard more than my share of it. I am not wanting to know. I just need to know that what I am imagining is real and true, so that when you are ready, we can navigate this together. If I consider you a close friend, I want to be invited on the journey, because I’d like to think I have invited you onto mine. I do not prescribe to the thought of “if they loved they would, or if they could they would”. Life does not live in the luxury of that binary. People are not binary.

The one thing I am taking out of this, is that I have prescribed much rigidity to my relationships because I want to be safe, but safety does not guarantee stepping into the joy of the promise and what you desire. I want to be reckless in love and lean into the joy of loving and being loved. The only way I can genuinely do that, is be comfortable with the discomfort of not knowing, not understanding and stumbling no matter how scary that is. I find my heart is heavy this week with the prospect of what it has to navigate through. I learnt a few months ago from a dear friend that I cannot be a safe space for everyone, and that I cannot aspire to avoid every awkward interaction or encounter. All I can do is my best, and that will have to do.