Once upon a time, there was a little girl who longed for love. There was love in her household, but the chaos overshadowed it. As a teenager, she found love. She loved full-on, with no holds-barred – but her love squeezed too tightly and the love was lost.
They told her again and again, “You’re too much.” “You smother people. Don’t come on so strong.” So she learned; learned to scale it back, stay controlled. She only chased love – the chase created a safety net. Deep down , she knew she’d never catch it – this meant she’d always be safe. Nobody would ever get too close. If they did, they might break that wall around her heart keeping her true emotions at bay. Occasionally, they did. Get close to the wall – maybe even cracking it a little and those feelings would seep through. So she learned to choose the impossible to love to assure that she’d never get that close. But still, out of hunger, she ate crumbs.
Until one day, she found herself – her powerful self. At long last, she had the confidence to wait and not chase. She had the grace to give people space and take hers when she needed it without fear that the person might not wait for her. She hardly ever called – they all called her. She learned to enjoy the company of a few men at a time with honesty and compassion for each and every one of them. And she counseled her friends on how to be more confident too.
And then she started hearing “bob and weave” a lot. Or, “You’re hard to get close to,” from the men she dated. At first, she felt proud. She had finally stopped being the victim. Hooray! Life was good – she had fun and confidence.
But still, she was lonely; searching for something more. A connection. The novelty of superficial began to wear off. As she reassessed the men in her life, she realized beyond what each of them had, there was nothing more for her.
One guy stuck around. She kept bobbing and he kept coming – gentle and slow. She kept weaving; he stood still. She began to realize that the idea of loving anyone terrified her! How could she love and not lose herself?
Her heart had atrophied under the micro management of her head. “Oh how awareness ruined everything!” she thought. She could no longer bob and weave without conscience and she could no longer ignore the fight inside her between wanting love and the fear of losing her voice.
I am BOB WEAVER and this is my journey.
