Burn

I’m emotional.

It’s been almost a year since I ended my relationship of 7 years and moved out on my own. Words can’t really describe the level of emotional torment I went through in the year leading up to me leaving. I was depressed, suicidal, unethical, and living in a prison I had walked into willingly. I won’t say anything negative about my ex. This isn’t about him. This is about me. About it taking me that long to realize what I deserved, and even longer to accept that I wasn’t going to get it where I was.

There came a point where I knew that we were no longer compatible as humans: he wanted me to stay in the closet- to be someone I wasn’t and live a lie for his comfort. Yet even once I knew I couldn’t accept that and I knew I couldn’t accept many other things about our relationship, it still hurt me deeply to think of leaving. My family was HIS family. I loved them. I was going to lose everything. Now I see that for the lie it was: I did not lose everything. I lost everything false and gained honesty in its place. I gained myself back. I gained my autonomy, my confidence, my sexuality, my power. But I wouldn’t know that until later.

That March last year, my heart felt like it was being ripped in half. I can’t describe to you the level of pain, but I can tell you it was like nothing I’ve ever felt and I hope I never feel it again. Yet I’m grateful for that pain. That burning, searing, agonizing pain purified my heart of the falsehoods that had been hiding there. I was left with nothing but what I had always had and had let myself forget the power of: knowledge of myself. I know who I am. I know what I want. I know what I need. I will have it. And I knew the truth was that I was going to have to sacrifice to give myself a chance at achieving everything I wanted. Sacrifices are sometimes necessary to achieve our goals. I cried more than I have ever cried in my entire life in that month after leaving. I’ve never felt so lonely or vulnerable. I sobbed. I wept. I bawled. I screamed and shook and silently mourned. But then, then… like a ray of sun coming through the clouds, I felt the weight lifting. I felt myself coming out of the darkness. I came out, completely. I changed my entire lifestyle. I started saying exactly what I wanted. I quit apologizing for it. I quit letting others dictate my actions and I began to dictate my own. And it felt good.

I’m not a hard person. I’m actually quite soft. I finally started to let myself feel it. And then, after I was determined to be my own for a while, I met someone. Someone who lit me on fire in a new way. Who showed me that to burn is not always to be consumed. Who showed me that softness is the ultimate strength. Yes, I’m grateful to myself for burning the past, because it gave me the freedom to burn with passion for my present and my future. I see them both clearly and I’m excited.

I’m emotional.

Because I deserve all the good things.

And I’m letting myself have them.

Thanks for reading.