Terrified to Love or Marry

I would sometimes dream of love and falling in it over and over. Even with the times that I was in it for however short or long the period was, I was grateful. Things changed over time. Secretive about how badly I would want it to work out. Tarnished by the lack of honor I would give to a thought over time. It dissipated. I would have such a bounding love in my heart when I was younger. Dreaming of a lace white dress. Dreaming of someday saying yes. Someday having a dream like that come true.

I was just crying and said aloud “I am so terrified of love that I want to go to the psych ward and cry for days, weeks, months.” Sometimes I ask myself what happened in life to make me come to this point. And maybe it’s a selfish one. Never married. I smile so hard because I would wonder

“Are you serious? You’re smiling sweetie pie.” I doubt you want to marry me.

Twice they were joking. And one time, I wondered how I would heal myself and be good enough to be a wife at this point. Contemplating the vitality. And I think sometimes that has more to do with my trauma than I give it credit for. Forgive me, I just don’t expect someone to fall in love, want to be married to me, want to be faithful, etc.

Sometimes dreaming of the seriousness in the matter. Because I need to believe in something greater than me sometimes. Knowing sometimes I encountered love so sour in relationships that they would want to do whatever they could to make sure my next relationship wasn’t happy, lucrative, fruitful or anything. They would stand in between me and a millionaire and anything else that glittered no matter the salary. Some of their best friends being lawyers, psychologists, social workers, police etc. And that idea that I deserve better “can’t get too loud” in the microphone. So, to make sure they have a way to keep me down and they have a way to keep themselves up; there will be an imbalance for me and a balance for them. Sadistic is what it is. There were relationships and friendships in the past that I could not open up to because I felt horrible crying in front of them. It was the narcissist inside themselves that they refused to heal or recognize. They would sit there and yell at me while I am crying, tell me I am too emotional, I am a scared little girl running or just be of no use at all because they would rather me sit off in a corner balling my eyes out. And only come back to them when I have contained my emotions. *eyerolls beyond belief right now.

What’s that worth in the end?? NOTHING BUT TURMOIL.

SADISTIC: Deriving pleasure from inflicting pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.

SOCIOPATH: Someone living with antisocial personality disorder, a condition in which one ignores societal norms, possesses little to no conscience, lacks empathy for others, and is completely self-serving.

We are all worth a better version of ourselves. But often-times I would be confused with their inner feelings.

That is just not me. I have a ton of empathy, and a ton of respect for rules, rights and others.

It made me so hurt that someone would joke about that. It is the look in your child’s eyes when they ask you about your experiences with love. When they want to know what it feels like to be married. To be in love. To have those experiences in life that show you someone truly loves you.

I will sometimes get so upset and say I “never” experienced a certain type of admiration, then remembering that I experienced it once or twice but since I wanted it more and didn’t get it; it felt like never to me. Because it went right back to me not mattering to the person anymore. I only mattered for that time being it seemed. Which hurt the most. After I was done being your babysitter; I was nothing to you. After I was done being your girlfriend I meant nothing. After I was done being your scapegoat for womanizing I meant nothing anymore.

Sometimes when I go and tell the doctor about migraines they ask how often I have them. Rather frequently. And I have to stop myself from crying or it will get worse. What if dreaming of love makes you cry. What if watching a romance movie makes you cry? What if it never did before? What if the songs in my heart are blues songs but I am not willing to teach myself to play acoustic guitar just to be on stage and cry in front of an audience. I can barely find a man that loves me enough to wipe my tears better than my kids will when I answer that question with “Your momma is one of the strongest women and doesn’t have to have a relationship to prove she’s worth loving beloved. And neither do you. You have to love yourself first and I love you unconditionally. Which is how someone should always love you.”

But the amount of time I spend crying? So fucking much time is spent crying. Over and over and over and over and over again. I often don’t know what to say. How to stop the tears and eventually I get so tired from the migraine I just go to sleep. Fuck the bones creaking. Fuck the arms hurting. Fuck whatever I am going through in life. I will do whatever healing I need to, so I don’t associate with this pain. It’s an indescribable pain. To see yourself as something more. Someone more. But your disbelief in how disassociated you are with wanting love for yourself is overpowering. And I find it quite selfish for me to sit here and say that I deserve it from another man or woman for a lifetime. Do I deserve to give it to myself for a lifetime? Absolutely. And I promise to make sure my kids and family see me struggle and climb to the top. Because I know there’s more inside of me as far as emotional and spiritual pain that keeps me from succeeding in certain areas of life.

Watching this documentary, someone said “The man was a womanizer” and I responded under my breath “And here I am 37 years old and a good woman and have been giving up on love for so many years. Terrified of what it means.”

I think more foreign than familiar to have someone want to sit and listen to you talk or cry. Or try and figure you out. And it breaks my heart that so many times, so many people have tried to assist with my healing, but I cannot find answers. How desperately a woman wants a back rub when she is in pain during that time of the month. And I make sure I power through it. No matter how many times in a month I will encounter the pain due to stress. Have I always been this insecure about love and relationships?

It started when I was consistently criticized for not looking like someone else. Not being like someone else. Not being good enough. Graceful enough. Not being enough in general. And it wasn’t through one grapevine that I would eventually find the truth. It was straight from the source and sometimes all over the berry bush. It would seem that sometimes people would know this fear inside of me and what it would do because they had a part in why I felt this way about myself anyways.

Thinking to myself, I want to throw away this bear that I bought myself over 6 months ago because I had wanted it to console me like a husband would because I remember being a little girl dreaming of that day, I would be a wife. Someday I had wished. And in that instant I saw myself throwing the bear away and wanting one that was much bigger like a Lovesac. I was the woman that wanted to be the stay-at-home mother. Homeschooling her kids. And I was always looking at myself through different lenses than others.

Philophobia is defined as:

Philophobia is the fear of love or becoming emotionally connected with another person. It can negatively impact relationships and may stem from painful experiences such as breakups or abandonment. Symptoms can include anxiety, dizziness, and avoidance of romantic situations. Treatment options often include psychotherapy to help individuals overcome this specific phobia.

I feel lost because of this. Inadequate. And yet what book is there to heal this? Is there a blanket? It’s quite probably one of the most difficult things for me to grasp because of my alternative and lifelong desire for love and stability and ability to extend my family. But I would dream of a man getting down on one knee and then cry because if I could just explain it better, I would feel better.

It is not that I would have an issue being faithful, it’s sometimes those inherent abandonment issues that lie dormant for years because you feel like you need to work on yourself more. And at times I feel stuck. I would never want someone to explain how I feel and get it wrong so I make sure I am as descriptive as possible on here when I write. Scared to open up.

So many people go through the same emotions, and they are just trying to prioritize things in life. Sometimes that is all we can do, is try and prioritize.

I would hope that one day someone would know what to do and how to be a strong man or woman that could get it right. But the fight just continues to fall on my shoulders at times, and that’s what makes me cry so much. I don’t trust the nature of most men these days. Females as well. It’s entirely hard to open up and have a consistent dignified relationship without turmoil. And I despise arguments. I am not a jealous female. Not someone who likes to fight, be vindictive or coerce a way of living that is toxic for the family. Sometimes it’s the inability for someone to be on the same page. The inability for them to want to do the right things. And it prevents me from wanting to spend forever with them, let alone a day. Most people see me cry because of how gaslighting and manipulative some closest to me can be, and they don’t care. Albeit the way I want them to care or just learning how to care genuinely. But the revelation of the tribulations I go through will always remind me that sometimes I do want to be single more than attached for these very reasons I have explained.

I may get mad and yell “Do not touch me.” Will you still surpass that and give me a hug regardless? I don’t like my family seeing me upset but a husband or partner was always considered a “vault” to me. Sure, your children want to establish a relationship with their parent. And it’s beautifully welcomed by me. Always. But if I cannot rely on a partner’s strength to consistently provide the love (much like a child), I have a hard time believing you will stay around or even want to stay around.

By nature, a child wants to constantly receive that love from their parents. And they will draw you pictures out of the most amazing tools and techniques. Thats the resilient love I am talking about. And how a child is willing to make you smile no matter how many tears. The beauty is in someone being willing to express that love through the good and the bad. I have to wrap my head around that existing in a partner. Because I have always had that love from my kids.

An infinite love, or unconditional love from someone else (as a partner) to me seems so impossible and foreign. You think I am beautiful, and I appreciate that. My beauty is in what I was able to give this earth and the world. Sometimes I am broken and expended. But that’s ok. I am a work in progress.

I will want to take my children to the park. Sing along with them. Paint with them.

But cry in front of you? No. That I mustn’t do if I have no security and safety in this space we have between us. Sometimes not being able to discern how strong the security and safety is because I get tired of people requiring that I need to explicitly ask for their help. I am just an intuitive person, and I don’t know how to ask is the excuse I put up. Sometimes it’s not that I don’t know how to ask. It’s that I am too emotional, I view this perspective they have towards helping me as volatile and want to struggle and succeed on my own as a woman. Because I don’t believe in the ROI when I have to be less of a strong individual to receive the help I genuinely need.

I hate distributing blame. I blame myself. Therefore, I want people to go find love despite us not being able to succeed at our love.

If you have experienced this, I really hope you find healing. I know I do for myself. And if you’re a parent I know it’s even harder to digest. I have to be accountable for my involvement in my feeling this way because there were times men and women wanted love and all I wanted was for them hold my face in their hand so that I could cry and explain what happened to me over time. If you have someone willing to stick with you and consistently give you the strength you need to open up, don’t let that go. My tears are streaming down my face as I type this sentence. Don’t let that go.

We can all find the love we need. I sometimes tell people I have to leave to reset.

“I have to run to the mountains.”

When, in my heart there’s a desire for them to tie a rope around my waist. Because I am really running from a fear. I will be able to come back around. Finding my place in life can be harder than I initially thought. The devastation. The shock. I don’t even reach for a Tylenol bottle until I realize the pain is unbearable.

But I am not necessarily lost. Maybe a little more confused. Unsettled. Not at ease, as I am used to being. I knew from a young age that I was meant to be a mother, a writer, maybe sing to some (bullfrog to others), an inspiration, a friend, a daughter, a comedian and more.

It’s just hard for me to comprehend how for so long I would sit and be strong for a few years, then set aside how I feel only to push past the pain and then break down for a year or two and not going full steam ahead at my dreams or the dreams of my family and friends. Adequately wondering what more I can do to prove myself.

The one thing I don’t want is someone thinking it’s impossible to love another person who is terrified of love or marriage. I had just been going through it for years.

“What is this I ask God.”

XOXO,

El’Aundra

Dear Lord:

Thank you for today. Thank you for my life. Thank you for this beautiful salad. Because too often I starve myself when I am stressed.