I’m a 42-year-old single love coach who struggles with relationships. Comical if you think about it. And not the first time I’ve written about this.
I spoke to my therapist about it today, and she said,
“Your biggest strength is also your weakness. It’s because you struggle so much that you’re drawn to this work.”
And lately, I’ve been running from the pain and struggles of relationships, and of life, really.
Instead of meeting it head-on, I’ve been trying to distract myself with nicotine, sugar, doomscrolling, sex, porn, and whatever I get my hands on to avoid feeling the despair I’ve been feeling.
Rather than feeling the disappointment, the loneliness, and the pain of my adult and childhood wounds, I’ll reach for something, anything, to not feel the discomfort of life.
And when I do that, I cut myself off from myself. I numb myself from feeling what I need to feel and learning what I need to learn from whatever situation I’m finding so painful to deal with.
When I cut myself off, I can’t work because my work is closely linked to my struggle. They are nearly the same.
To make things worse, I’m embarrassed to show you that I struggle so much with love, and when I try to hide that fact, my work becomes generic and formulaic. When I cut myself off from my heart, I cut myself off from my job. And then I feel even more down because I’m unable to work.
So that’s the truth. I’m embarrassed that I still haven’t figured out this love thing, and I’m trying to make a living by helping you figure it out.
This contradiction hit me hard recently when I experienced both the hope and disappointment of meeting someone new.
A few weeks ago, I met an incredible woman whom I was excited about, which doesn’t happen to me often.
I was smitten from the beginning. I had a feeling of knowing her before we’d even met.
What I loved about her from the get-go was her ability to connect emotionally and without judgment. Her emotional maturity helped me feel seen and safe.
And that touched me deeply. I didn’t have to hide my fears and insecurities around her, and for someone like me, that felt deeply healing.
When I showed her my anxieties, she said it made her feel closer to me.
One of my biggest desires in life is to be seen. And paradoxically, it’s also my biggest fear.
So, when I meet someone who can see me and with whom I also connect on multiple levels, I become hopeful.
Hopeful that I’d finally found someone to build something meaningful with – that I could stop searching and start creating the kind of relationship I’d been longing for.
But, unfortunately for me, throughout our time together, she realized that she still needed to grieve her ex, and that what she needed was a friend, not a lover.
“My heart isn’t quite ready, and I would want to give you ready,” she said. It stung, but it’s also beautiful.
I want ready. I deserve ready.
So, while I experienced disappointment, frustration, and the pain of not being chosen, I also got some much-needed clarity on several things.
This experience taught me three important things about myself:
To thank you for being part of this community, I’m offering 33% off yearly subscriptions this week – that’s $40 off the regular price of $60. Join as a paid subscriber to access all my most intimate writing (including this one), support my work, and help create a safe space for vulnerable conversations about love and relationships.
