Piece it together.

"My divorce from dependence, that's when you found me. I was still soft..." - No Doubt

We carry the baggage from the ones who came before. Emotional scarring leaves marks no one can see, but they can feel. Habits and tendencies build up over time, and though we forget so much, we hold onto good and bad memories.

How do I pick it apart? How do I glean the good, and let go of the bad?

I've spent time on my own in between. There have been months and years between people. I know who I am on my own, and how to navigate this life when it's just me at the wheel. I'm confident. My edges aren't blurred, fading into someone else. It's when I add someone that things seem to go a bit haywire.

"I love you" was said quickly by everyone I've been with. Though I struggled with saying it back so soon, I always did. I didn't want to let them down. Which then became a theme. I always grew to love them, but what if we had taken our time? What if instead of infatuation, there was a slow burn? Why couldn't I allow for the space?

My physical attributes were a constant focus, so I felt pressure to maintain, " I can't keep my hands off of you", "Do you know what you do to me?". Sex always came into the picture sooner than it should have, at least looking back. This inevitably backfired. My mind and body would sabotage me, over and over. I felt less sexy, less desired. I looked in the mirror and didn't see myself.  I was an object, rather than a person. Had they only wanted me for this? I am a sexual being, I want to be wanted- but what about the rest of me? Sex is a big form of expression for me as well, and it's so easy to get lost in the lust. Even after the breakups, it's something every one of them mentioned missing. Not my mind, or my heart. My body.

My insecurities allowed for the rush. I allowed being treated as a possession, a pretty thing to be held, desired, and treated as such. I played down my smarts, because I didn't feel smart. Hid my talents- that would be bragging. Covered up my anxieties- I thought they proved I was broken. I looked in the mirror and saw the little girl who felt ugly, my skin color too dark, my hair too crazy, my eyes too big. If I was their girlfriend, their partner, their wife, I would always be wanted. I kept leaving out how unfulfilled I was in the entire process.

My dreams couldn't be "normal" because they never were my partners dreams, not taking into consideration the fact that maybe we just weren't suited. Hindsight and retrospect can be so cruel.

My normal is the desire to have a partnership, to carry and raise children. To work, but not too much. Travel, get my doctorate, own a house. Have dogs, maybe stay in California, keep my family close. To know when I fall, they'll catch me. When I'm scared, they'll comfort me. My triumphs will be theirs, and vice versa. No more quid pro quo. I'm ok with give and take, but I gave it all. If I give it all, they've got to give it back- that's what I told myself. Expectation was never reality.

I want to be better, be bold, be patient. Enjoy the ride, don't force it, really fall. I want to miss them for the right reasons, and dream alongside them. When I get lost, have them find me. Remind me who I was, and who I am. Depend on one another in the right ways, not the unhealthy ones.

Piecemeal. Do it right this time.