Lessons We Carry Into Love — Loving Again Without Losing Ourselves

The essay

You know what's dangerous? When somebody new walks into your life, and you make them pay for something somebody else did. Or worse, you start paying for it yourself before they've even done anything. 👀🤣 I've learned that just because a relationship ends doesn't mean everything you experienced in it ends with it. Sometimes you carry the fear, the suspicion, the need to explain yourself, or the habit of preparing for an argument before one even starts. I've been married, I've loved, I've experienced betrayal, and I've made decisions in relationships that I had to examine afterward. One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that being hurt doesn't automatically mean you've healed just because you've moved on. And sometimes what we call protecting ourselves is really fear making decisions on our behalf. I had to learn the difference between recognizing a genuine warning sign and assuming every new person was going to repeat somebody else's behavior. My past can teach me what to pay attention to, but it doesn't get to decide who everybody else is. And loving someone should never require me to abandon my judgment, silence my concerns, or keep proving how much pain I'm willing to tolerate.

What changed for me was understanding that I can't love somebody into becoming accountable, communicate enough for two people, or build a healthy relationship by myself. I've spent enough of my life trying to figure things out and hold things together to know that love requires two willing participants. And that's where my understanding of prayer has evolved, too. I used to think more about what I wanted God to change in a situation, but I've learned the importance of examining what may need to change within me. Not because I'm responsible for somebody else's behavior, but because I am responsible for recognizing my own fears, expectations, and choices. That's part of what I mean by PrayerIQ—learning to bring honesty and self-awareness into our conversations with God instead of only bringing requests. Sometimes the question isn't "God, is this the right person?" Sometimes it's "Am I seeing this person for who they are, or through the pain of someone who came before them?"

I don't believe healing means never being afraid to love again. It means learning to recognize the difference between protecting your heart and imprisoning it. Because I can love somebody deeply without losing myself, and I can protect my peace without closing my heart. 🦋

Browse the essays in this series in Reflections.