Unarmoring My Heart

It wasn’t until the death of my ex-boyfriend that I realized how strongly I had been guarding my heart.

It should have been evident from my inability to find another partner, but I couldn’t see it. I had grieved the death of our relationship, the future we planned for ourselves, and his presence in my life…  But when I grew weary of mourning, I shut it down – and the remaining pieces that needed examining, laid quiet within me.

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The past few months have been a blur for me.  From the moment I was notified of his disappearance, I felt it inside me – he was gone.  But with lack of a body and no evidence to support it concretely, I had hoped for the best and went through the motions of searching for him and discussing all the possible scenarios with his family.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned myself spending so much time with his mother and the conversations we have had.  She and I have been a support to one another in ways that words cannot begin to describe (but of course, I will try).  The stories we have shared with one another have shed light on parts of him that neither of us saw.  It has helped to connect the dots.  To answer unanswered questions. To see the man we both loved so dearly in a much broader sense.

When I received the news that his body had been found, it was as if the whole world stopped and came crashing in. There was a reckoning. Every thought and feeling and emotion that was left unaddressed came bubbling up and pouring out. I was unleashed.  Consumed by feelings of loss and regret, I knew I had to sit with it.  I had to allow it to surface and to acknowledge every tear and fear as it arose.  And I did. And I grieved the loss of him – heavily.

And it didn’t take long before the truth came to me and looked me square in the face: ever since our breakup, I have been dating with a guarded heart.

In some ways I had known it all along, but I hadn’t realized how strongly I had it guarded until that moment.  Yes, I have learned to embrace life and friendships and my passions in life with a kind of fierceness and unbridled sense of adventure that is easy for myself and others to see. How confusing then, for men who try to date me, when they can see how open my heart is for the rest of the world, and how armored it is for them.

How completely unfair of me to expect that I should find a patient and open-hearted Knight in Shining Armor to unlock the chains I placed, when I wasn’t even willing to hand them the key.

So now I must remove my armor.

In order to receive the love I so greatly desire to feel again, and to build the family I long to have, I must remove the barriers I have built, and allow space for love to enter again.  I must be willing to place my heart into hands that promise to hold it gently, and trust that it will be cared for and tended to, the same way I will tend to theirs.

And so begins the next chapter for me, of unarmoring my heart. Of learning to love again, unbridled, without fear of being broken.

I can only hope, and try one day at a time, to allow my tender-heartedness to be my greatest strength and not my weakness.  To remember that love is worth the risk and that it is always good to have it stretched open, even if it has to close back up for mending.  Like a beautiful flower, it can always bloom again.

Here’s to unraveling the chain, one link at a time!

Yours truly,

Miss Erin Terese

Frozen Words

Like an icicle hanging from the branch of a tree, your words have stayed and lingered and bit me as they clung.

Love you. Miss you.  Want you. Need you.

The base of the ice, where it anchors in my heart.

Love me. Need me. Show me. Leave me.

The dagger’s point, that clamors at my soul.

And like the icicle on the branch, there are only two ways for which your words will leave me, let me go and release me.

By slowly melting and stinging as it drips down my trunk, drops seeping to my core.

Or by breaking loose, taking pieces of me with it and leaving shards of splintered ice and birch and promises on the ground.

However the words leave, they will. And as the ice melts and breaks and washes away, so too does the essence of you.

There may be scars left behind or words splattered on the ground, but there is a spring to cleanse it away.  To bud new leaves and bark and a clean place for rain to fall – and perhaps freeze again.

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Yours truly,

Erin Terese

Writing for Personal Growth

This misserinterese blog serves me in many ways.  It began as a way for me to write more – whatever that meant. I was being called to write.  As if out of nowhere, I was bitten by the writing bug and I needed to have more of it.  It consumed me.  And like any great love, when you find it you want to share it and shout your love from the rooftop!  This particular love is a little more personal and left me open to criticism, but sharing it was worth it. I had to.  Whether people would say I had poor writing skills or that my ideas were ridiculous, I had to share them.  It could no longer be contained.  It was time.

I had tried keeping a journal before, but I was not very consistent with it and I tended to ramble on without much direction.  Essentially, it was word vomit on a page and usually when I read it again later, I would be embarrassed by my crude writing and dramatic stories.  This blog allows me to explore my emotions and aspects of life in a more structured format.  I take a bit more care in crafting my thoughts, my sentences and my stories knowing they will be read by others.  Rather than word vomit on the page of a journal, it becomes an article, a poem, a short essay explaining in detail each thought, idea and situation.  Each post comes from the heart and with great reflection and care poured into each word.  Since the blog is shared publicly and available for me to reread many times over, it is important for me that it represents me accurately – and it does.

writingWhy am I telling you this now?  It is at the request of one of my readers.  She asked me to write about why I journal/blog and what the benefits are for growth.

The benefits have been huge for me.  I have more self confidence and feel much more self aware.  When you are going to share your ideas with an audience, it really makes you dig deep to find your voice.  It is not a time to be timid or shy; it is a time to be authentic and vulnerable. My greatest posts and those that are most well-received are those that explore not only my strengths, but my weaknesses as well.  People want to know how to learn. How to better themselves.  How to take the mess of their thoughts, pick them up, dust them off and organize them into something beautiful.  We all struggle at times in our life.  Hell, most of us struggle with something on a daily basis.  The pressure to be perfect can make anyone feel as if they are losing their grip.  Reading other people’s stories and sharing my own, helps remind me that we are all in this together.  That we are here to learn from one another.  That my stories of overcoming hurt and heartbreak and learning to be mindful might be beneficial, not only to me, but to you as well.

Lastly, writing breathes life and meaning into the thoughts that dance their way through my head.  When I put pen to paper, or fingers on keyboard, I am able to take those thoughts and string them together into something that makes sense.  Something that reveals a little more about who I am and what I am learning.  Somewhere between the key strokes and punctuation marks, my voice finds its home.  My thoughts lay to rest and I am able to breathe easy knowing that I have explained myself fully.  And whether anyone else learns more about me, more about themselves or more about life in general, I have learned more about myself, and that is worth everything to me. The act of knowing thyself is ongoing; it’s a process we will continue until our last breath.  And every time I uncover another layer of myself and the depth to which I am capable of, it’s like unwrapping a gift. It’s just beautiful.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

P.S.  Do you journal/blog and how has it helped you?

The Amazingly Resilient Heart

He: Baby, I need to talk to you tomorrow night.  Can I come over after work?

Me: Whatever it is, just tell me now.

He: You aren’t going to like it.

Me: Okay, now you really need to tell me.  What’s going on?

He:  I don’t know what to do… I slept with this girl, she’s pregnant, and she’s keeping it. I really need you to be my friend right now.

Me: Wait. What? What are you talking about?  Hold on a sec, I need to pull my car over real quick…

Gasp. Sob. Scream.

In the month preceding this conversation, he had been asking me on an almost daily basis to marry him.  Baby, I can have a ring for you next week if you want one.  While I loved him greatly, deeply and what I now understand is an unhealthy amount, I was hesitant.  We had only been back together for a few months and I wanted to make sure that he had in fact changed, and that we were still a good fit.  Something was off though, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. As it turned out, what was “off” about our relationship was that he was unsure of my love for him and had been seeking comfort in between the legs of his neighbor.

With a shaky voice, he told me all about the other girl and the baby on the way.  Choking back tears, he begged for me to understand, to be his friend and to please stay with him.  Like fools we tried to make it work.  For two months we stayed together. I tried to forgive him, he tried to explain and together we discussed how this was going to work.  Would we get married and share custody?  Would we try for full custody?  Day in and day out, I sat by as he went to doctor visits with her and canceled our plans every time the phone rang with another one of her “emergency situations” – she was a bit of a drama queen and trouble maker.

Finally, my heart hit the wall and I could not stand any more pain.  Two months of fighting back tears at work, crying myself to sleep every night and living in a constant state of anxiety, almost broke me.  For the sake of my sanity and realizing that I deserved better, I gathered my strength and walked away.

His son turned four this week.

My biggest fear was that I would become bitter and build a wall around my heart.  What happened was the opposite.  Sure, I was bitter with a wall up for a while (a long while actually), but ultimately my heart healed itself into a bigger and stronger version.  I feel like I have the heart of a champion now.  I swear!  I constantly surprise myself with my ability to be vulnerable, open to love and simultaneously, open to rejection. What could have ruined me and made me a bitter old hag, has actually softened me and made me more compassionate.  I could have forever hid behind a wall or shield around my heart, but I long to feel loved again and have faith that I can heal again if I need.  I am not giving myself kudos here; I am simply stating that the heart is amazingly resilient.  That if you allow it time to heal, and really and truly want to move forward, you will – and you will be even stronger when you do.

Just a little reflection on where I am now versus were I was four years ago at this time: in a drunk puddle of hysterical tears.

Yours truly,

Erin Terese

P.S.  Yes, it got worse before it got better.  Read this.