Claiming My Voice: From the darkness, the light emerges.

I was talking to a boyfriend once a very long ago and he asked me how many men I had loved. Now, let’s be clear, he wasn’t asking how many men I had slept with, he was asking how many men I had felt love for. I don’t recall the number I gave him but he replied with something to the effect of “Then how can I know I really matter to you? Love is only precious when it’s doled out sparingly.” I remember becoming very angry because I felt like he was belittling my feelings. I think about that concept a lot though. Because I love easily, does it mean my love means less?

Wee tangent: This also brings me to a thing that has challenged me for years: How can we use the same word “love” to describe the deep and abiding affection I have for my son AND the way I love a man AND for the love of my friends AND for a mop or a song? I really wish we had different words to describe this elusive yet pervasive word. The Inuit languages actually have a few base words for snow and their grammatical structure allows them to add suffixes to these roots to create dozens of highly descriptive, unique terms. Why can’t we do the same thing with “love”?

Back to the point. So recently, I’ve been hanging out with a new guy. We really are still just getting to know each other and while I am attracted to him, my primary purpose has become helping him through a tough transition in his life. But I would be lying if I didn’t say I like him. He’s funny and smart and attractive…and don’t let me forget kind. I think he is one of the kindest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know. Yesterday I was enjoying thinking about him. I was thinking about how much I like my conversations with him, and I was also fantasizing about him physically. Suddenly I was struck with the idea that I was simply enjoying this chapter in my life and I didn’t need to name it, and then I was struck with another thought that floored me: I think this feeling is what I previously had called love and maybe it really isn’t!? How am I just learning this?! If that was not love, then what is? And if that is not love, what is this? While I know am examining some of the men I said I loved at the time, I KNOW there are three I deeply and genuinely was “in love” with. Also, as I write this I have a bit of shame around all the sex I had while telling myself I loved them…when really maybe I just enjoyed their company and their presence aroused me? How many of them did I actually love in a way that I want to love? And if I just wanted sex, what does that say about me? How do I feel about that?

Today I don’t know the answers but am willing to keep plugging along and find out. I feel like others figured this out years ago and part of me is annoyed that I am just figuring this out because I may have waisted a lot of time behaving under wrong beliefs. And sometimes I look at my life and there are some things that don’t look like I’ve grown at all. Then I beat myself up for not growing but that is simply not true. Seeing something I’ve never seen before is growth. Being willing to try something new based on new information is growth. So grateful that the Universe continues to give me opportunities to grow!

Thanks again to ChatGPT for the image 🙂