Home→Forums→Emotional Mastery→How to get over someone (complicated)
- This topic has 2 replies, 3 voices, and was last updated 10 years, 10 months ago by Matt.
-
AuthorPosts
-
February 14, 2014 at 1:19 pm #51014PaulParticipant
Hi, I hope this is in the right place – please move if not. When I was a teenager, I was infatuated/had a crush on the girl next door who I’ll call Julie. We were in the same class in grade school. We went to different high schools but I still looked for her on the local buses. Then we went to different colleges in the same city. Then she asked her mom to ask my mom to ask me if I could help her with computer programming (I’m a nerd-geek). Of course I said yes. I went to her house on several occasions to help her with her studies. At least twice when she was walking me to her door as I was leaving her house, she said almost jokingly “Why don’t you ask me out sometime?” I was petrified. I didn’t answer either time. I just smiled and laughed and went home. I wanted to date her so badly that it hurt my insides. (I didn’t date anyone until years later.) But I couldn’t because of my mom. My mom and her mom were best friends. My fear was that if I ever took her on a date and something bad happened (e.g. if I tried to kiss her when she didn’t want me to, I tried to hold her hand….), she would tell her mom which would instantly get back to my mom. My parents did not spare the rod. Physical abuse was always hanging over me and my sisters’ heads. My dad used his belt, my mom her fists. I was scared to death that if something upset Julie about our date, I would get the shit beat out of me. So I never dated her, and her family moved to New York. One of my sisters always wondered why I never asked Julie out. I was baffled that she didn’t know why.
I feel like I really screwed up my life. I feel like I was supposed to date Julie and possibly eventually marry her. She was so beautiful to me. But I didn’t date her, and now she has a husband and 3 kids in the Mid-West. I’m also married now with no kids. I’ve never brought it up with my wife except to say that I had a crush on Julie when Julie was at a funeral of her grandfather. My wife looked at Julie and said “Wow”. I assumed this was because Julie was so beautiful. I don’t know.
So for about 15 years, I’ve tried to forget Julie, or at least let those memories lie there in my past. But when I hear that there are tornadoes in her state, I pay attention, wondering if they are affecting her. Why do I care now? Sometimes I feel so stupid that I haven’t let go. Why do I let a person have so much power over me? I’d really like to know. Am I emotionally broken? Thanks for reading.
February 15, 2014 at 10:51 am #51061ainkaParticipantu r not able to forget her bcuz maybe u regret what u dnt have or u r nt happy with ur wife, ask ur self.
February 16, 2014 at 7:34 am #51088MattParticipantPaul,
I’m sorry for your suffering, and can understand how regret can swell up, making us feel like we missed our chance. Sometimes when we have been unsafe for a long time (such as the physical and emotional abuses you experienced), we find and cling to something beautiful. Like a teddy bear for a child, this beauty becomes an object of our dreaming. Julie seems to be like that for you. The desire and appreciation of her beauty and all the potential dreams you had with her helped you reimagine a life free from the “rod” and other shadows of your past. A few things came to heart as I read your words.
Consider that as a youth, perhaps it was difficult for you to feel safe…. so expressing your desire (asking her out) didn’t feel safe. However, the desire was there, unexpressed, and over time became a little obsessive. Consider that you don’t really know Julie very well, she just “shines” in your mind and heart. That shining isn’t even from her, not really, its because you desired her, and didn’t do anything about it. So the potential sticks, because maybe she feels like “your way out” or “your soulmate”. Hogwash!
You forge your path, brother. Even here and now, its the clinging, not the women, that disturb your tender heart. In your heart-space, you still have pictures up of Julie on the walls. What if pictures. If only pictures. Perhaps pictures of her curves and valleys. Peace will come when you choose to take them down. You can… we all have regret. Pack them up in a box, take them to your garage, and let them go.
Consider also that perhaps you have needs going unmet with your wife. Do you express your desire to her? Do you feel safe asking her for things? Do you pay her tender attention and ask her to pay you tender attention? Are you still looking for home, or have you found it? Built it? Maintain it? Do you try to submit to her desires all the time so you stay safe? What do you need that you aren’t getting?
Those are the kinds of questions that will help you find your home, your appreciative joy, your feeling of safety. As a kid, perhaps you were a victim, unable to do anything about your station or status. Now, though, you’re not. Not anymore. Not to your parents, and not to your unmet desires. You don’t get to go back and see what would have happened with Julie had you asked her out. You missed that boat, and the regret only keeps you from realizing you’re on a different boat, full of vibrance and beauty. So pack it up, grieve the lost desire, and move on.
Don’t worry, though, its not something that has to be forced, such as “move on, you nitwit, what’s the problem?” Quite the opposite. Letting go is a slow, gentle process that many of us are never taught. To let go, we self nurture. We open up the space around us, within us, and let the feeling of seeing “what was there” blossom and become released. For instance, perhaps you could hop in a tub with some candles, ask your wife to gently play with your hair, go for a walk in nature, or something else quiet, gentle, where your body is surrounded by psychological space and emotional warmth. Then, just breathe. Breathe in where you are, what you’ve built, who you are. And keep breathing. See the boy, scared to ask her out, afraid of the stick, afraid of rejection, of unrequited feelings. Just a confused and scared boy… normal, usual, lovable. Didn’t have the strength or courage to be free in that moment, to simply be and do what he wants. Normal, usual. And breathe. In this way, we begin to practice self compassion, or making space for ourselves, what we truly are and were. Not “if only”, but “what was”. Then, whatever unresolved crap floats to the surface, here and now we are ready to hug and adore that boy, help him grieve his abuse, his fear, the domino losses.
That way, you can get up out of that tub refreshed, or feel your wife’s fingers on your scalp more directly, more appreciatively, or see the beauty in the trees and animals of nature. Or whatever. Then, we’re not so lost in our own regret that we miss out on what is here and now (which ironically blossoms as regret yet again when now is gone, another missed chance at coming home). Instead, we wake up, grab hold of our present, and open up to what’s around us. Then, the past won’t matter, it really holds little allure, because the love and grace flows through us more strongly with each day. Why would we wish to go back?
With warmth,
Matt -
AuthorPosts