It’s 3 am, I must be lonely.

At the very least, I am awake. “They” say that if you can’t sleep, you should get up and do something out of bed, then try again. Or something like that. I’m certain getting up and writing on your laptop is not it, but whatever. I marginally believe in rules anyway. Perhaps that is part of why I am awake at 3 am, because my stupid brain never stops.

I’ve been in this training at work for a new pedagogy that has become not just a core part of my work, but it’s brought out a core value in myself as a person. I wrote about vulnerability a few blog posts back, and my brain has been a bit stuck on deconstructing this idea of vulnerability and the dance of trust. Trust in yourself, trust in others, and the need for connectedness, but I’ve been noticing more and more the fear we have of allowing people in to see the authentic version of ourselves.

I am no different, and I’ve spent the last week really recognizing how much work I have to do in terms of vulnerability and my avoidance of fear and shame. It’s so easy to focus on the behavior of others but it takes more time and willingness to do it when it’s you, and it’s so easy to avoid the deep internal work. The digital nature of our lives adds an extra layer of separation from people. We hide behind texts, apps, hook up culture, the anonymity of online. Nasty comments, lack of social interaction. Lack of connection and consequences. COVID has made this so much worse and we don’t seem to know where to go from here. I see people desperately searching for connection and love, but we don't know how to do it anymore.

I’ve moved into the “deconstructing them” to the “deconstructing me” stage of divorce, and concurrently considering how my *situationship* if you will went sideways, and the same patterns emerge. Fear of speaking up because of the avoidance of shame and vulnerability. Not feeling good enough.

As we were ending things, the man I had been seeing said, throatily, “I have no regrets.” Well, I have more than a few. I shared some of them with him at the time, but as time goes by I have more and more. There are so many things I wish I had said, but all of them boil down to the regret that I was not more vulnerable in sharing just how much I cared about him, and feeling more secure in myself to let someone in to see me, the real me. I remember thinking to myself many times, “I wish you knew how much I cared about you,” and the thing is, if he didn’t? (Spoiler alert: he didn’t.) That’s on me. I have so many unanswered questions, but that’s my own damn fault for not speaking up. I made so many assumptions when I just should have asked. At least then I would have known, even if I didn’t like the answer.

A repeat pattern of my marriage. My life. I still have so far to go.

I am falling deeply in love with the little city outside of Boston where I live. It has taken me by complete surprise, because I am a Boston girl, or so I thought. I was in a local market that is super close to my apartment, and as I was walking through, I thought about how much my former lover would have enjoyed it. The interesting shops, the gritty mill vibe, the cozy coffee shop but most of all the vinyl shop at the front of the market. Why didn’t I bring him there? How come I never tried to show him this little city I love so much?

The answer is, I was ashamed and afraid to be vulnerable. I didn’t think it would be good enough for someone who lived in Boston, where I just assumed everything would be so much better quality. What if he didn’t come to visit? What if he thought it wasn’t as good as what he had? What if he didn’t like it? Again, this firmly held belief that if I wasn’t the best, or didn’t present the best, that I wouldn’t be good enough. The same damn patterns playing out in my life over and over again. The reality is that if he hadn’t, then that wasn’t a reflection on me, but on him. The reflection on me is this persistent fear of not being good enough. That I still need to be more perfect. Accomplish more, be more settled. Whatever.

My regrets build from there.

I’ve been struggling so much the past week, because I have regrets. Not just about my situationship, but my life. They are all just coming to a head. I have had so many times where I tried to game the system, rather than be me, and I lost. I colossally fucked up. Now my consequence is to wonder what if. What if I had applied more broadly to graduate school? What if I had taken some of the jobs I had been offered? What if I had stayed in California, like I wanted to? What if I had taken the trips I wanted to? What if I had told this man how much I cared about him, and I accepted him just as he is, and that I saw something special between us? Maybe nothing would have happened but failure all around, but at least I’d know. Now I just sit with the uncertainty and regret. I can’t change the past, but I can change the path. It’s really time to stop playing the game and just live authentically. The not knowing is the worst part.

I honestly just need to accept who I am and invite people in to see me. I’m so tired of pretending I’m not intelligent, of hiding my quirks, of pushing people away for the sake of the fear that they won’t understand who I am. I’m sick of not being me because I’m afraid it’s not good enough. When will I just accept myself as I am? Perhaps once I actually have a better sense of who I am.

I wasn’t familiar with Nightbirde, a contestant on America’s Got Talent who died very tragically at a young age of breast cancer. He showed me a video of her because he wanted me to hear something she said, which was “You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy. You are so much more than the bad things that happen to you.” Even more impactful for me beyond the quote, though, was this calmness and authenticity she exuded, even though she was obviously very nervous to be on the stage. I turned to him and I said, “Some souls just seem too beautiful for this world.”

The reality is, though, that she wasn’t perfect, or some special soul compared to the rest of us. She was facing imminent death, and she knew it, and the fear of little things didn’t seem so great anymore. She knew she would regret not taking a chance. Opportunities do not come about every day, and it’s your choice to put the fear aside and try, because you don’t get to pick the timing. There’s no reason we can’t all be beautiful souls during our time here. She let go, and accepted, and lived what short time she had left with love and grace. We all have the capability to do that.

I went into coaching, and am putting all my time and effort into building this because I truly believe that as a society, we need to return to our connectedness with others, but I need you all to see the rawness and realness of the journey. I’m not immune to this being a difficult path. I need people to see that we can feel deep connection and love for one another, not just pain and fear of others hurting us. We need to be able to be supportive and kind to one another, be able to speak who we are and with that trust of one another comes acceptance of boundaries and limits. The games we play prevent us from loving ourselves and others. This is how we get burned. We need to find the people who also live authentically and kindly. If COVID showed us anything, it's that we need each other more than ever. Life is too short to spend playing games or carrying hate around with us.

It's 4:25 now, and I’m not even sure that this blog is moderately coherent. Does it matter if it’s fully coherent or formed? Perhaps not, given that I’ve written about here. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep now, but at least I got some of my thoughts out. I am certain there will be plenty more where those came from.

Sweet dreams.

(Post script, she was not, indeed, able to sleep that night).