This chapter of my life seems to be all about adaptation. Adapting to the demands of school and realizing that my entrepreneur lifestyle of week day lunches with the ladies has come to an end. Adapting to realizing the process of learning, and studying. Adapting to being a mom and a full time university student. Adapting to building space with someone who seems committed to creating space with me. Adaptation is hard. And scary. I’m not sure I’m doing a great job most days.
I’m adapting to my truth in relationship. I was committed to exploring non-monogamy on my own terms. This was an interesting experiment that largely taught me that I’m not cut out for casual sex. Now, I’ve met someone who is monogamous, and I’ve been excellent at monogamy most of my adult life. It was my choice to abandon my experiment in multiple lovers. There was no outside pressure of any sort. It felt right to me to shift my attention to one person. It continues to feel like the choice that best serves me, and the choice that will help me be present and authentic enough to build something meaningful.
At the end of the day, my commitment is to my truth. I will continue to advocate for everyone’s right to explore love on terms that are meaningful and true to themselves. I am not sworn off any singular path, but I am doing what feels right for me, and for us.
For us.
I thought I’d just cruise on in to the idea of ‘us’. I’ve been so hungry for something deeper than that physical connection. The idea of ‘us’ has been a bumpy ride, and the potholes are the by-product of the hurt that I’ve recently experienced. My greatest challenge in this new space is to remain present. To not let my past create barriers to the ease and joy I deserve to feel in these early days. I take some comfort in knowing I’m not the only one battling the past in this equation.
Is relationship anxiety a thing? If so, I can easily succumb to it sometimes. Fortunately, I’ve got a few tools in the kit that are helping. One of them is talking. He’s not always a talker. More adapting there…
He’s very wise. Wise in ways that indicate his soul’s been around the block a few times. He told me one of the greatest lessons he’s learned from love is that relationships need to serve a higher purpose beyond romance. A purpose like building a partnership, a home, a supportive connection. This isn’t news to me, of course. If you’ve been reading this blog over the last decade or so, you’ll know that. It’s just nice to hear it from the person you’re currently spending time with.
My life has taught me that no matter how good I am at crafting stories, I can’t ever know the ending. Why bother to worry about that now, when things are just getting started?
Why bother worrying that I won’t be able to give the right things? Why not just give wholly and unflinchingly and let this move in whatever direction it will?
What is certain right now is that the immediate present feels serene and positive.
What’s also certain is that the more I buckle down, the more I am kicking ass at student life.
My higher purpose continues to be this quest for elevation. Taking what I have and making more. Of me, of my potential, of my capacity for wisdom and experience, at the depth and breadth of my ability to love.
I’ll see my way to becoming a therapist. I’ll raise brilliant humans. I’ll be an excellent friend. I’ll be an honest and reliable partner. I will leave a legacy of love.
What is your higher purpose?