Lie #3: You are too broken to love and too complicated to understand.

I’m not easy to love. I’ve never claimed to be. I’m a deeply sensitive and reflective soul. I’m a kaleidoscope of emotion. I see a thousand sides to every situation, and it takes me days or weeks to mull over things in my mind before feeling completely resolved on an issue. (And that usually requires multiple conversations with my BFFs too.) But I have passion and intensity like none other I know, and I will love more fiercely and more protectively than could ever be imagined once I break down my own walls. I am authentic to my very core, even when that authenticity shows my less than desirable traits lying right there for all to see on the very surface of my skin. 

Not to beat the metaphorical dead horse here, but I have opened up about my past relationship in my last post, and the wake of that volatile relationship certainly has its place in this third lie too. Before finding myself in that relationship, I endured many years of verbal and emotional abuse as a child. No form of abuse is easy mind you, but that of the psychological form leaves its scars deep within, and even when you have taken every caution and avenue to heal yourself of those damages, they can come back at the most inopportune times and ways. When the only “love” you know from influential men in your life is highly conditional love attached to their interpretation of your lovability, and changes and demands they enforce upon you before you can be loved, it can corrupt your own self-identity. 

When you’re constantly told your best qualities are your worst ones and hear enough criticisms that no matter what you do it will not be enough, you eventually begin to believe it. Your once positive self-confidence and self-image crumbles into a shattered mosaic of brokenness and inadequacy. That’s not to say the broken pieces can’t become beautiful and rearranged into a design more amazing than the first... but it feels like it never will (see lies #1 & #2). 

I was recently listening to a podcast/app and it mentioned finding ways to become okay with who you are and how that begins with embracing the core of your personality. Even the least desirable parts. And it suggested one way to find what that is is to think on what you have been told to become “less of” by certain people. So of course I began to reflect again and think on what that means in light of this lie in my life. So what are the things I’ve been asked to “stop being”? Why am I “unworthy” to be loved (at least in the minds of those who’ve influenced me to buy into this lie)?

Stop being so loud. So emotional. So dramatic. So sensitive. So aggressive. So demanding. Just so much. Too much. And let me pause to say that finding validation for these feelings in a man is not the end all, be all of my existence, nor should it be yours. But I have always truly desired to be loved unconditionally for who I am, and understood and appreciated for the complicated, intense, passionate woman I am. I’m not for everyone, but that’s part of my beauty. I’m beginning to believe that’s actually possible... to be loved for who you are. 

But I have been convinced by those who should’ve loved me unconditionally in the past, that despite all my wonderful qualities, I am just too much to love. I am just too broken to love. I am damaged and complicated and before I can be loved, I must change certain things about myself to fit a particular, “more lovable” mold. When I didn’t (or couldn’t) adapt, that love was stripped from me. Like punishment. Until I was more cooperative or “lovable”, at which time I was loved again... only to repeat this cycle indefinitely. 

Eventually that breaks even the strongest woman. And truth be told, I’ve still been spending my adult years overcoming those beliefs about myself. Sometimes I win. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I still buy into the lie that eventually something I say or do is going to be too much for anyone who loves me and they will withdraw their love, just like the people who “loved” me in the past. See, I use the quotation marks because I know how illogical it is, how crazy it sounds. But it is my reality and has been as long as I can remember. It’s a product of conditioning. And I must now *uncondition* myself. 

The truth of this lie?  Those men were the ones with the issues. Those friends who played the same games were not worth my time. Anyone that cannot handle or does not appreciate my “good” with my “bad” is not someone who truly deserves my overwhelming love. 

My loudness?  Is an avenue for advocacy for those who cannot stand up for themselves. My emotionality? Is the very core of who I am because I experience everything in life so fully and deeply. My dramatic tendencies? Keep life funny and interesting. My sensitivity? Means I am capable of feeling empathy for others better than most people. My aggression? Makes me goal-oriented and driven. My demanding nature? Means I am on a constant quest to improve myself and want to inspire those around me to do the same. It has never had anything to do with me being unhappy but rather everything to do with how I want to live my best life.  These things I need to “stop being” so much of really make me that beautifully broken mosaic I mentioned earlier. And that does NOT mean I am too broken or too complicated to love. It means I’m worth the challenge. 

I’m glad I finally see that. Although I do still need the occasional reminder.