![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Internal Ramblings
Jan. 28th, 2004 09:17 pmOne of the hardest lessons I've had to learn - and one that I occasionally realize that I'm still learning - is how to accept love as a gift, and realize that I am not responsible for making, or failing to make, other people love me.
It's odd, in some ways. I'm a very emotional and empathic person, and I have no trouble giving and accepting trust, or friendship, or respect. I understand, to an extent, where they come from and how they relate to the other person in the equation, and how they affect me, and them, and us. But.... love is different, somehow. I always want it, even when I shouldn't, and once I have it I never know what to do with it, and half the time wind up wishing it weren't there, and at the same time incredibly afraid of losing it.
Somehow, love always feels like more of a prize than a gift to me. Like it's something that I'm being given as a reward for meeting a certain set of criteria or behaving in a particular way or looking like something-or-other. And I don't always feel like I fill the role the person has put me in, so I wind up suddenly afraid that someday they'll wake up and realize that I'm not prize material, and take their love away and give it to someone else who's smarter or more charming or has nicer hips. The practical upshot of this is that, instead of taking a deep breath and enjoying myself, I wind up preoccupied with finding ways to keep their love and going overboard trying to be even more charming and witty and lovely, and forcing things to the point where they're strained and unnatural. This, of course, has the exact opposite effect from what I want.
Love is a gift. It is not a prize, it is not a bribe, it is not a tool. I do not owe anything to the people who love me, as a price for their love. I am not responsible for their loving me - I am responsible for my being me, and they are responding to that same self. When I love someone, I don't ask or expect anything of them in return; the same is true in reverse, for anyone whose love is worth having.
Now all I need to do is repeat this to myself three times a day until it starts to sink in....
It's odd, in some ways. I'm a very emotional and empathic person, and I have no trouble giving and accepting trust, or friendship, or respect. I understand, to an extent, where they come from and how they relate to the other person in the equation, and how they affect me, and them, and us. But.... love is different, somehow. I always want it, even when I shouldn't, and once I have it I never know what to do with it, and half the time wind up wishing it weren't there, and at the same time incredibly afraid of losing it.
Somehow, love always feels like more of a prize than a gift to me. Like it's something that I'm being given as a reward for meeting a certain set of criteria or behaving in a particular way or looking like something-or-other. And I don't always feel like I fill the role the person has put me in, so I wind up suddenly afraid that someday they'll wake up and realize that I'm not prize material, and take their love away and give it to someone else who's smarter or more charming or has nicer hips. The practical upshot of this is that, instead of taking a deep breath and enjoying myself, I wind up preoccupied with finding ways to keep their love and going overboard trying to be even more charming and witty and lovely, and forcing things to the point where they're strained and unnatural. This, of course, has the exact opposite effect from what I want.
Love is a gift. It is not a prize, it is not a bribe, it is not a tool. I do not owe anything to the people who love me, as a price for their love. I am not responsible for their loving me - I am responsible for my being me, and they are responding to that same self. When I love someone, I don't ask or expect anything of them in return; the same is true in reverse, for anyone whose love is worth having.
Now all I need to do is repeat this to myself three times a day until it starts to sink in....
