I am a runner in more ways than one. I am not very good anymore at sticking around to see things through. Now with my children I am great at it but others in my life get dismissed rather quickly. I know this is some sort of character flaw that is likely the result of betrayal and divorce but I have not yet figured out how to properly address it. It was with great surprise then when I began reading a book and realized I was the main character. I know I was meant to read that book.
My friend let me borrow Flight Behavior after she finished it because she knew Barbara Kingsolver was my favorite author. As I began reading I saw myself in the pages almost right away. I don't think my friend had the faintest idea that I would actually need this book due to recent events in my life but I desperately needed it. I awaited each evening where I could read about Dellarobia just to see what she would do and think of the reaction I would have to the same situation. Dellarobia is a woman trapped in an unhappy marriage that boldly speaks truth to everyone but herself. Eventually her truth telling ways catch up to her when her mother-in-law speaks truth back at her.
I, like Dellarobia, have been given the gift of speaking truth in people's lives. They rarely want to hear the truth I speak but at the same time their need for it leads them to ask. I rarely turn the truth telling on my own life. Therefore, it was with great dismay when I realized I needed to speak truth into my own life. I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. I much better at running away from my emotions, decisions and such than actually facing them.
For me the truth had to do with freedom. I love freedom. I mean that in so many ways. I appreciate the country I live in which allows me to choose my career, practice my faith and make all other choices without government interference. But I take my love of freedom even further. I love freedom to make daily choices without having to make considerations for others.
I have the ability to do what I want when I want. Except that is not entirely true. My life is dictated by the schedule of my work and kids. It is dictated by a thousand other things that I have no control over. Mothers never truly have their freedom even after their children leave home. My Mom is never completely freed from worry about my sister and I. I am sure I will follow in her path when my children are grown.
So the freedom I am talking about has to do with relationships. I have a tendency to feel suffocated by relationships.
Recently I went through a spell of deep depression because of my terrible decision making on my own behalf. I described it in my journal like this; I feel suffocated like all my air, the very breath I need is being sucked slowly, painfully from me. I have made sure to stand in the way of my own freedom, my own happiness and my own peace. My frenetic energy has disappeared.
The last two lines have haunted me since I wrote it. I never realized how much I value my freedom and how intricately it is tied to my happiness. I have been searching to feel settled thinking that meant I needed a man in my life that helped me to settle down but when I was faced with that it became the choking hands around my neck. In the end it turns out I need someone who will give me an abundance of freedom and be okay with doing things without me all of the time. I am energized by my freedom.
Freedom for me hasn't come through my relationships. Instead I have noticed I always chose men who are similar to my ex-husband. There are so many qualities that are good in him but what I end up focusing on are the bad ones, in him and the ones I date. I am always attracted to men who are adventurous and live a life that is a little dangerous. I myself am very conservative so I like to be with someone who draws the adventurous side out of me. The problem lies in the choices these types of men make. Living on the edge is not often a stable place to be and doesn't provide comfort for a family girl like me. I also tend to end up with men who are financially unstable and this is a quality I detest. This is one of those qualities I despise most and once I discover it I begin to dwell on it. I also tend to be attracted to men who are not self-sacrificing and I also cannot stand this quality. For me the simple things like holding a door open for a women are an important indicator of character. Whether or not a man is charitable to the needy is also a good character indicator. These are traits that seem to not be immediately apparent but once they are indicated I am no longer attracted to the person. I wish I could see these things sooner and spare everyone the time. In the end I just run away from them.
I want to be loved deeply. I know I am loved deeply by God and my family but sometimes that is not enough. There I said it God. Sometimes I need something on this earth to give me comfort and companionship. So in reality, I suck at being alone. My mistakes show how badly I suck at being alone. My dating choices have so far not panned out. I have tried different methods of dating, the form a friendship and see what it leads to, the date right away and the fall in love with ones who can't love me back method. The follow the rules and just being friends as that might lead to more approach hasn't worked out any of the times I have tried it. The date right away also hasn't worked. And of course the falling in love with those who can't love me doesn't work. Maybe the truth I need to hear in my own life is, "You suck at relationships. Men have a hard time reading you. You protect yourself to the point of not letting anyone penetrate to any other than the surface level. You are willing to take a risk but only with the wrong men. When you regret your choices you immediately become cold and aloof." My gift, as you can see, is also my curse. Speaking truth means cutting to the core. It means digging in deep on a level that is uncomfortable.
But by my speaking this truth to myself I hope to be able to allow myself to be more open to whatever comes along in my love-life.
As I turned the last two chapters of the book Flight Behavior, I began to sob. As a flood overwhelmed Dellarobia's home another kind of flood overwhelmed my soul. I sobbed and grieved for things lost that I cannot have back, for unhappiness created by bad decisions, for the regrets of motherhood and marriage. I was finally able to grieve properly which is another thing I have never been very good at. By the last few pages I could barely read the words through my tears but today I feel refreshed, reborn and revitalized. I was meant to read that book, to see myself in its pages and to receive healing in its pages.
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