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On the Up and Up

Blog by Morgan Painter

To You

May 16, 2018 | #metoo, Dating, Domestic Violence, Family, Growing up, Mental Health, Writing

Whoever you are,

I’m cheating my own system. I’ve got a handful of drafted letters saved, but I haven’t been able to finish any of them. I’m afraid that to find myself without this writer’s block, I need a good ole post unpacking my life as of late; so, you’re getting yourself a letter.

Last week, and some time prior, I was in a funk. I hit a low. Remember the last time that happened, and I freaked out? My therapist had to tell me that it’s normal for people to go through lows? I listened. I learned, and I rode the wave.

But, something strange happened in the midst of that phenomenon. It was as though this alarm went off in any male human I’ve connected with. Rather bizarrely, but way more flattering than I can articulate, they started reaching out to me. I’ve written about all of them on this blog, you know who we’re working with.

Never in my life have I had the satisfaction of hearing from people who have come to regret dismissing me from their lives. It’s that thing you always wish will happen, but then you grow up and realize that’s not real life; and, the majority of women are conditioned to be encouraged by male rejection… and misread reality to resemble hope. It felt like all of the times that I’d wished a guy would realize I was cool were on hold, and then all of the lost affirmations resurfaced simultaneously.

Hearing people compliment us– feels pretty good, right? I think some of you may have this perception that I’m given compliments often, but no. I also think it’s assumed that my confidence is off the charts, and that I am privy to seeing myself exactly as others do. Nope. Not true. So, this confidence boost– it propelled me out of my low. Sad that’s what did it? Maybe, but I’m human. I got a lot of closure this weekend, and it was really nice!

Then, I was confronted with a decision. I don’t like those. Don’t like choices at all. Big fear of making the wrong one. Big fear.

One of the guys I heard from, I had been notably intrigued by. Notably notable. But, there was a lot of let down, and we never met. If you think you know which person I’m referring to, you’re likely correct. When he began reaching out to me again, I reacted as all of you, probably, hoped I would. I was cold. I was adamant that I was done giving him the time of day.

But, I am disgustingly forgiving; and, as I’ve said before, I melt into charisma. Do you get where I’m going? My brain was saying “no, Morgan, he’s an asshole– run away,” and then my feelings were all “do it Morgan, don’t let him go.”

Sorry Dad, I don’t trust my head.

I chose to give him more of my time. I’ve felt a great deal of shame for making this decision, and thinking that I wasn’t going to be able to be honest with anyone about who this guy is.

Then I met him. And, it was what I felt it would be. And I remembered the last time meeting someone felt so good. I remembered letting those feelings overwhelm me, beaming with the love. I remembered forgiving him when he yelled at me after the newness wore off, and coming home to him the morning after he hit me for the first time. I don’t know when I’ll stop being terrified that I’m going to let myself into another abusive relationship. Honestly, I don’t know if I should let that fear go.

So today, amidst the joy and excitement I feel about having spent time with a person who   made me feel all the feels, (and seems to share them) I’m trying to remind myself of all the reasons this is different than the last time something felt so good. And there are a lot of them, but the big one is: with new people, I tend to offer all of my trust until they lose chunks of it. I’ve always functioned that way. What’s different about this time is that this guy is starting with an empty tank. He’s got to earn his fill.

I am hesitant and guarded, but this might bode in an un-lived way for me. I’ve got to keep reminding myself that I’ve learned from my mistakes. I will be damned if I let my past keep me from something that feels so innate… just holding on to my oodles of caution.

Lot’s of accountability, lots of honesty, and a letter to you– laying it all out there. Root for my judgement, please.

-M

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Comments

  1. Pamela Leavell Painter says

    May 16, 2018 at 12:16 pm

    I like the starting with the empty tank metaphor. Earned trust👍👍👍

    Reply

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I'm Morgan, a 26 year old searching for her place in the world and writing about the journey.
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