Love is a choice
Love is a choice. Choosing someone when it is hard, when it would be easier to leave. Cutting someone off is the easiest thing to do.
And this choice has to come from an inner knowing, not from the fear of being alone.
It comes from realizing that the other person and the connection you share, despite all the flaws and annoying triggers, are something so valuable that they are worth navigating through the hard times.
(No, for God's sake, I'm not talking about staying in an abusive relationship.)
Not only navigating through them, but also looking inward and changing yourself. Picking up that fight with your inner demons that you have avoided for centuries.
Not hiding your fears behind "This is who I am, accept me this way," but facing them.
Believe me, it will be better for you as well.
A good relationship changes you to your core.
It makes you face both your strengths and your imperfections.
And accepts them all at the same time.
Because love doesn't require perfection, only a shared willingness to become better.
During this journey, I finally learned why silence can trigger me so deeply. Throughout my childhood, I was punished with silence even when I had no idea what I had done wrong. I never got real clarity, only the silent treatment for days. I learned that silence wasn't safe. Silence meant rejection. It meant I had done something terrible without even knowing what it was.
Facing that wasn't fun.
Honestly, it was extremely not fun.
But the truth sets you free.
I learned that silence is rarely about me. It is about the other person:
- their inner fears
- their demons
- their uncommunicated expectations—instead of telling me what is actually wrong or what they need from me, they expect me to know as if I were a mind reader
- their vulnerability
- their lack of self-love and self-confidence
- the fact that they never learned how to regulate their nervous system or process their emotions in a healthy way
And no, I am not saying that I am never at fault for causing that silence. But the silence itself—when there is no clear communication about needing space, expectations, or anything else—is not about me.
It doesn't mean I am less.
It doesn't mean silence is inherently unsafe.
It doesn't even mean I am being rejected.
It means the other person is not able to face themselves or confront me directly.
This realization was incredibly healing for me.
It still annoys the hell out of me because... how can we solve a problem without talking?
But I no longer feel offended.
I no longer feel less.
I no longer feel unworthy.
I see unexpected and uncommunicated silence as baggage that is not mine.
I leave it there for its owner to clean up.
(And don't get me wrong, I am not talking about someone clearly communicating that they need space. That is something sacred.)
Another interesting journey inward was realizing that the other person's fear of rejection isn't mine either.
But why I am afraid of being rejected—that is very much mine.
Facing that made me realize that it was never me vs. him.
Or us vs. the world.
It was always me vs. my own mind.
Overthinking.
Imagining scenarios that would probably never happen.
Instead of seeing who that person really was, how understanding and loving they actually were, I saw only my unhealed wounds and my past experiences with other people.
I didn't trust my own inner guidance.
I didn't trust my own inner knowing.
I let my fears take over my mind and my actions.
Well...
That is my baggage to carry and face.
And not only that.
Why the actual hell am I afraid of being rejected for who I really am?
Why the actual hell am I afraid of being rejected because of my tattoos, when they are as much a part of me as my own limbs?
If I am rejected because of them, then it is better for it to happen sooner rather than later.
That is baggage I can throw straight into the trash.
Why the other person is afraid of being rejected for using certain things for certain goals—that is not my baggage to carry.
He is probably sitting in a dark room too, watching unrealistic scenarios play out in his head about what could happen, while outside the Sun is simply minding her own business, shining without judgment.
Knowing that made me patient.
I know how terrible it feels.
But I also learned that this is not the baggage I should carry.
Not my demon to fight.
Seeing another person through the lens of our fears and insecurities destroys our ability to judge them clearly.
I wish I could teach every overthinker that if you can imagine the worst possible scenarios, you can imagine the best ones too.
Overthinking won't protect you from pain.
It won't protect your heart from being broken.
It will only protect you from living your life to the fullest and from seeing the opportunities knocking on your door.
It will protect you from letting love and happiness into your life.
All to protect your heart from a heartbreak that hasn't even happened yet.
And probably never will.