Break-ups teach us:
On December 1st, my boyfriend of 10 months and I split. I saw it coming from multiple miles away as actions speak louder than words and frankly, we never got that whole communication thing down anyways.
Despite the short amount of time that has passed, I’ve learned a great deal about myself since then.
I have finished 4 journals since my freshman year of highschool and as I read and reflect upon the pages, I note my naïve moments. Times where my last relationship made me feel like an inconvenience, times where I felt like the effort and energy I exerted wasn’t being reciprocrated, and times that I forgave when an apology was never presented.
Love is complicated because it is complex. It always stings to love someone more than you love them. But what I learned from this specific break-up is that it stings more to love someone more than you love yourself.
Respect is a form of love. My ex-boyfriend and I both had a lack of self-love. A lack of respect for ourselves.
In my case, I didn’t have the respect for myself to leave when I felt like I was recieving less than I deserved. I justified his actions or lack of based on his experience. The recurring situations weren’t changing and I stuck around hoping that they would.
In his case, he had so many feelings that he never addressed because he felt the need to protect me. This is not a romantic sacrafice. “Do not light yourself on fire to keep others warm.” Self-respect means acknowledging your emotions.
After evaluating myself through my own words, memories, and my loved ones’ perceptions. I’ve concluded the kind of love I deserve.
Specifically a self-love I deserve. You begin to understand yourself more.
You being to pay less praise to that person you split with and more praise to yourself. A lot of times we lose ourselves in the midst of searching for someone else.
In the last 28 days, I have written myself love letters he never did, bought myself gifts that I normally wouldn’t, and ate an absolutely disturbing amount of chocolate. The kind that I like, because I’m as picky as it gets.
So today, I’m sharing with you a love letter addressed to myself. Along with a few lovely photographs that some of my greatest friends took of me in my purest form.
Baby Jane,
You are sweet like sugar and strong like coffee and baby you are beaming. I love the way you schedule your sleep and plan out parties like a middle aged mom. You are brilliant. You are filled with quotes, analogies and metaphors and your mind is filled with fictional characters that someday readers will become infatuated with. You are unseemingly outspoken but your soul is kind like spring. Your growth is exponentially energizing and your skin is leather-like thick. Tough, in all the right places. Mighty, in all the right ways while simultaneously empathetic, benevolent, and selfless. I love the way your legs carry you, with such ease, confidence and grace. And I love how wild your hair always falls, like water being tampered with and waves crashing on a crowded beach. Your skin is sweet and soft like honey, olive toned and when your tan lines begin to awaken, you carmelize quickly. I love the way you sing in the shower, the way you laugh and smile, so gritty, and I love the way you commit. In all things and everything, you never fail to place your effort. You never fear to be foolish, you never fear to be wrong. You embrace life even in its dimmest embers. You pick yourself up and pull yourself into a place you would rather be. I love it. I love the way that you bite your lip and how you dance around your room when you clean and how fast you back-track when avoiding the potential of offending others. You are considerate. I love your passion for art, when your voice cracks when you sing, and the unending array of goofy expressions your face can make. I love the way that you tie your shoes, your obsession with books and how your nails are a new color each week. I love how you get giddy and excited over all of the littlest things, the way you put your hand over your passenger when your car comes to a harder hault, and I love the fact that you are 19 years old and yet, your favorite movie is Frozen.
Until the next love letter,
Xoxo
- Baby Jane blogs