Foreboding love

Remember me proudly announcing that I don’t need to be with Tony but choose to be with him? How it’s so important to remember impermanence and not make false promises of security or stability in relationships?

Well, I’ve been analysing that a bit recently…

I realised that I need to constantly assert my independence and stress these beliefs in order to convince myself. I desperately need to believe this to be true in order to feel protected in case the worst-case scenario happened.

Brene Brown calls this ‘foreboding joy’. It means that one protects oneself from fully experiencing the uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure of joy by assuming the worst.

In my case, I think it’s more appropriate to speak of ‘foreboding love’. I’ve developed a protective mechanism of convincing myself that I don’t need anyone in order to protect myself from fully experiencing the uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure that comes with loving someone.

The problem is that this ‘vulnerability shield’ not only doesn’t offer any protection at all when the worst-case scenario actually happens but it also robs you of enjoying what you have.

So with 18 days left to go before Tony comes home I’m deciding to stop foreboding love and to instead allow myself to be crazy in love.

Who says that you can’t go back to the excitement of the first few months? I’m not sure I fully experienced it the first time round so I feel like I have a lot of making up to do.

Wholeheartedness

I’m amazed by how much I’ve learnt about myself in the last 4 months that Tony’s been away. Admittedly it hasn’t always been easy or pleasant. A lot of my self-discovery evolved around issues with self-love or rather the lack of it and how Tony had been compensating for that. Developing real intimacy with myself and learning to embrace my imperfection and vulnerability have been my biggest challenges.

Slowly, however, I feel like I’m getting somewhere in this process. I notice how I’m experiencing feelings more intensely. Almost every day now I’m close to tears or actually crying because I allow myself to fully experience a feeling. It’s a full body experience rather than the numbed down version of feeling I developed over the years by trying to protect myself and shutting off from my vulnerability. Experiencing this is scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

The other amazing side effect of this process is how my heart doesn’t just open up to myself and my own imperfection but also to other people and their imperfections. It’s like I’m rediscovering our shared, flawed humanity and I’m surprised at the increased compassion and goodwill I’m capable of as a result of that.

Earlier today, I was strolling along the banks of the river Thames between Bourne End and Cookham and I suddenly felt this deep sense of connectedness and belonging. I was fully present with my surroundings, the people I encountered and myself. I felt at peace and so alive that I could hardly hold back the tears. Incredible. I am so grateful for the ability to feel that way again.

It’s true what Brené Brown says in her book “Daring greatly”. We cannot selectively block out feelings. When we numb ourselves and avoid being vulnerable we don’t just water down the experience of negative feelings but also our ability to fully experience positive feelings. In order to be wholehearted again we need to allow both. We need to ‘dare greatly’ indeed but from my experience, I'd say, it's a risk worth taking.