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It’s been a few years now since my knight in shining armour turned up on my doorstep and with one (long) kiss swept me off my feet.
A deep love developed quickly, something neither of us expected—at least not that big or that soon. But there it was, the big love I’d been manifesting since learning that I was worthy of it.
The synchronicities along the way were mind-blowing and left no doubt that this was what I’d been calling forward. Most fairy tales end at this point—the happily ever after, ride off into the sunset bit. The reality is this is where the real love story and the whole point of our existence begins—to grow and evolve.
Time passes quickly, and before long I notice myself shutting down, blowing up and making a right twat of things. I’m reactive, emotional, and insecure. Fearing abandonment like I’m not enough and far too much all in one. What I don’t realise is that I have unconsciously allowed another player to come into our relationship…not the threesome kind. I like to call her “cockblock” because that’s what she does—cockblocks me from connection and love.
It wasn’t a conscious decision to allow her in, and she certainly wasn’t invited. This bish slowly crept in and made herself at home, little bit by little bit. I didn’t even notice at first. It took a few months and by the time I realised she was there, she’d moved in, unpacked, hung her art on the wall, and was well and truly running the show. I’m confident the nickname is not her real name and that her government name is actually self-sabotage or something similar; she likely even has a job to do. Probably to make sure I don’t get my hopes up too high or some such thing. That I don’t fully immerse myself into this big love because bad sh*t could happen. In fact, it absolutely will happen.
She often whispers in my ear “remember what happens when you show your true self to someone…remember when you give your full heart to someone…remember the rejection…remember the hurt and the pain and the disappointment of loving someone who doesn’t love you back.” She replays old scenarios to me anytime anything remotely familiar shows up, always reminding me of what I stand to lose should I allow myself to experience this state of big, unconditional love.
“For the ego cannot love and in its frantic search for love, it is seeking what it is afraid to find.” ~ A Course In Miracles
The fear of actually being loved unconditionally and connecting with another human being has caused this bloody Karen to show up and block the very thing I’ve been craving and manifesting—rude of her, really! She is f*cking good at it too. I can go from feeling immense bliss, heart wide open on the verge of joyful tears, to shutting down quicker than an airport when a kid coughs. It’s like bipolar of the heart—open, close, open, close. I’m pretty sure someone wrote a song about that…total bipolar heart.
She is creating issues where, in reality, they just don’t exist. Seemingly unable to detach in the moment from the emotions tied to the old stories, reacting to anything that looks like being pushed away, rejected, or not enough in some way. She points out all the evidence that she can gather that we are on a one-way track to heartbreak and disappointment, encouraging us to abandon this impending trainwreck.
“Vulnerability is the birthplace of every positive emotion we need in our lives—love, belonging, joy…” ~ Brené Brown
I’ve spent the past few years wanting to fully immerse and sink into that big love all of the time, not just when there is no perceived threat. I have longed to see the love that is given to me in the form that it is offered, not how I believe it should be shown. Without vulnerability, feeling there could be loss and choosing to just lean in anyway, it is not possible to experience that.
While I have been searching for the words that make me feel “safe,” I have missed the hand holding and the forehead kisses and all the other expressions of unconditional love that I have been shown. By unconsciously allowing my mate cockblock to run the show, I haven’t seen that he’s holding me tightly every single night, even in his sleep. He’s reaching for me when I’m way over the other side of the bed. He’s considering me in every single decision that he makes. His actions are in complete alignment with someone who thinks the absolute world of me. Good one, cockblock, ya bloody d*ckhead.
In my quest to try to understand how to get her evicted, or in the very least, take a back seat, I have delved deeper into Brené Brown’s work. Her talks on vulnerability and shame are both relatable and enlightening. When she speaks about the loss of vulnerability in today’s scarcity culture, there is a part that hit me in the feels: “It is much easier to live disappointed than it is to be disappointed.” Woah, ouch, lady. It is easier to expect to be disappointed in love than it is to immerse in it and wind up disappointed. She says “letting yourself soften into loving someone, now that’s vulnerable.” Well, Brené, that would be much easier to do if cockblock Karen would quit talking smack to me now wouldn’t it.
After years of trying to ignore her, shut her up, negotiate with her, and, at times, hate on her, I figured it was finally time to invite the “problem” to come sit with me. A brand-new approach; how novel! I hadn’t really known how to handle her and until very recently, I certainly wasn’t willing to listen to, let alone understand, her view. Choosing violence probably wasn’t going to give me the resolution I was seeking, so instead, I opt for a good old chat.
She starts by explaining to me that her behaviours have nothing to do with how love is being offered to me and everything to do with my unwillingness to receive it. She reminds me how I was loved as a child, how it was given, and how it was taken away when I did something to displease the women figures in my life. She tells me that I was a burden on others and reminds me just how painful it was to give all of my love over to the people who should reciprocate, but don’t.
As I listen to her elaborate reasoning—why she is here and what purpose she is serving—I am filled with a deep sense of sadness and absolute compassion for her. I wholeheartedly understand why she has moved in and been so adamant that her presence is necessary. She has been with me since I was a small child and she has absolutely served a purpose, especially during those formative and teenage years. This bish has had my back all this time and has stayed despite the abuse she has copped from me. Geez, what a trooper.
“Love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says I love you.” ~ Maya Angelou
As a small child, my subconscious mind learnt that love was unsafe and connection hurts. As a result of that lesson, it created a defence mechanism affectionately known to me as cockblock. Our minds are so amazing. When we are faced with intense emotional pain, we literally create our own coping mechanisms to protect ourselves from feeling those emotions again. Our minds and our bodies are literally creating programs, behaviours, and chemicals in an attempt to keep us safe. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. Given that we come from love, we are love, our bodies and minds act toward us with love, I feel the only fitting thing to do with my mate cockblock is to give her love too. I don’t reckon she needs to leave altogether, but given the evidence surely she can retire by now. We definitely need to work on the pecking order around here too.
In order to fully receive the love that is being offered to me from my knight in shining armour, I first need to accept that these seemingly difficult or “bad” or “wrong” parts of myself serve a loving purpose and they need love too. All parts of ourselves need and deserve the big love that we desire to give to others.
There are many lessons to be learnt from my journey with these parts of myself so far. Love being the answer is probably the biggest one. Maybe I should rethink her name too…
~
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