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Define Me

My entire adult life I’ve defined myself by who I am to others.  Daughter.  Mother.  Wife.

These are roles that I have chosen or been given.  Important roles.  Yet each one presents only a piece of who I am.  I am all of them, but they are not who I am.

I’ve also thought, since the age of 15, that I knew who the love of my life was, and that has defined me too.  I have felt like half a person, incomplete without him, yin to his yang.  I based all of my fundamental beliefs on love and romanticism and relationships on a lie and I have paid the price for that.  My heart is empty and it hurts to feel anything.  The foundation I built my world on was rotten and has fallen beneath my feet.

I believed in one soulmate.  I believed love conquers all and everything would work out if I just had faith.  I believed that our story was romantic, I loved to tell it, even if I had to edit out the ugly parts that showed the truth.  I believed that no matter what we would be together because that is what soulmates did.  I believed that he and I were alike, two peas in a pod, and that I could define myself by who he was.

I built myself a castle made of ice and glass and high expectations and wondered why it shattered around me.

He is gone, the lie exposed, and everything I defined myself by went with him.  So much of me wrapped up in him, I’ve struggled to remember where he ends and I begin.  What do I like?  What do I want?  What do I think?  How do I feel?

Things are changing.  I find myself stretching now, redefining who I am on my own, colouring in the empty yang half, to make myself complete without him.  It feels good, partly because I know that I will never have to go through this again.

I have struggled with acceptance, with being alone, with letting go.  One of the hardest things for me to do was forgive myself for making all the mistakes that led me here.  The mistaken beliefs, forgiving things that were unforgivable, seeing people as who I wanted them to be instead of who they are, not respecting myself enough to hold true to who I am and who I want to be.

I have no one to blame but myself.  I made the decisions even as I knew they were the wrong ones.  I let go of who I was because it was easier than accepting the truth and challenging the beliefs I had formed.  I have realised that you have to stand up for your principles, even when it hurts like hell and rips your guts out.  Especially then.

Writing this blog is hard.  It terrifies me to be so vulnerable to the entire world.  For some strange reason it’s harder knowing that friends and family read this, but I’m not good at talking.  Writing helps me share what’s going on for me to those that are closest when the words are too hard to say.  I worry that it’s too sad, too self-orientated, not interesting.  But this blog is helping me to redefine who I am, even if right now I am sad and self-orientated.  I won’t always be this way.

I may always be different things to different people.  Daughter.  Mother.  Wife.  The most important thing for me to be is Me.


One response

  1. Oh my!
    This blog really hit home for me. This is inspirational and really makes someone think about what it’s like to be defined by what you have. I hope that even thought someone is gone that you can move on and find happiness elsewhere, my thoughts are with you.

    Molly Brew

    June 13, 2011 at 3:23 pm

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