The Fear

There is a great fear that I like to think most women go through after a break up. That fear is being unable to be loved by someone else. Fear of the rejection of being found unfit, unattractive, and generally unsuitable as a romantic partner. I have been dealing with that fear quite a bit lately. Since my new haircut and color, and my general realization that I have gained weight, I have become quite self conscious about my appearance. To add salt to the wound, I have begun to analyze how very strange I feel I am. My interests are odd. My aversion to television is odd. My emotions are odd. Everything about me feels completely too weird to be loved by any human being. 

I keep reminding myself that I cannot be the only odd ball out there. There must be tons of wonderful and strange people who feel the same. People who silently cry out for their other half but are too afraid to tell who they are. People who wear masks and just miss each other. 

I’m not a person who wears masks. What you see is partly what you get. I don’t reveal everything about myself to just anyone. I often reveal what I love most, and what I hate most to people. What I love most is my sense of humor. My creativity. My sassy side. What I hate most? I am remarkably broken. I fear vulnerability. I struggle with depression. I openly have issues, but who really wants to deal with those things? Most people have their own stuff going on. They’re after simplicity. I am not simple. I feel completely unremarkable. Even unbearable. Too complicated to be loved. 

Thankfully God loves me. That’s what I keep whispering into those cracks in my heart. Letting those words fall into those places to grow. He understands my fear. He knows my pain is real. He knows what will become of me. He thinks I am lovely. Beautiful. Precious. Heartbreakingly so. That is enough for that painful thought to hurt less and less over time. 

Right now I have a lot of feelings, and a God who is listening. 


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