I can’t avoid the pain — and I don’t want to
pour one out for the crybabies
“As long as you know, you’re going to get hurt.”
It wasn’t even a question, my friend knew as much as I did that my allowing my situationship back into my orbit for what I didn’t realise at the time, would be The Last Time, was going to end in my emotional upheaval.
I fancied myself as some kind of relationship detective. I thought, if I just go through with this again, I’ll be one step closer to understanding why we’re stuck in this purgatory. Having been in therapy now on and off for the last four years, it’s a strong reminder of how much I have grown, but also knowing that I have it to fall back on it becomes easy for me to lean into a bad idea in the name of trying to “understand him”.
Instead, what I should’ve remembered is that it’s actually not about the other person at all. It’s about me, and what I want, and what I’m in pursuit of.
“Oh, I will absolutely get hurt.” I told her, “and that’s part of it.”
Which isn’t untrue. I certainly haven’t let go of the fear of being hurt.
Even when I meet someone new that I really like, the excitement of having a crush now as I’ve gotten older is spoiled by the fear that I will inevitably be disappointed. At the start of something new, I brace for impact. Wait for the other shoe to drop. When the something, will almost certainly become nothing.
But that fear has never stopped me from heading towards it, and beyond. Because beyond is the best bit. The potential to fall in love.
Situationship aside, I’ve actually met a few men over the past couple of years that have given me hope. A small, sweet reminder that there are people out there that I am compatible with, and that if circumstances were different and if we felt differently then we’d have an entirely different outcome.
But even those endings, the ones that have ended before they’ve barely even begun, hurt.
It hurts because it’s supposed to. It’s sad, but it’s good – it reminds me that I can still feel things.
I went into therapy believing that this was one of my worst qualities. Big feelings, big emotions, feeling sensitive, making myself vulnerable. I thought that I would be able to work through this affliction and once I got past it, I would never be disappointed.
Especially now in modern dating, where everyone is replaceable and the winner is the person who cares the least, if I was able to overcome these feelings, I would be able to make it out with my dignity intact. I needed to toughen up. Build up a hard external shell to protect me from getting hurt.
But disappointment comes with the territory. Meeting someone new, liking someone new is anxiety-inducing. You can even feel it in your body. And there’s only two ways to work through that. By feeling it, and communicating it.
The ease comes with the familiarity of recognising the sadness, the hurt, the disappointment and meeting it head on. Letting the emotions wash over you and riding the wave. Because eventually, it will pass.
It’s also comforting to remember that you get to be sad. When you want to be honest with someone, you feel anxious. When someone hurts you, you feel pain. When something ends, you feel disappointed. This is how it’s always been. It doesn’t go away.
It’s confronting when you’re met with people who seem to close themselves off from their feelings. The ones who shut down. The ones who stonewall. The ones who ghost. It’s as though they’ve unlocked the secret to bypassing human emotions. When really, avoiding them, avoiding conflict and communication is only avoiding themselves.
These tactics are just that. A workaround that eventually finds you having to confront the reality of those feelings later on down the line. They always show up at some point, sometimes in different ways.
And this is coming from someone who would classify themselves as a crybaby. Thankfully, I’ve found safety in being able to manage it and self-soothe, and safety in the people in my life who I’ve been able to lean on. I’m a lot more resilient than I’m prone to think.
And the pain has been worth it.
Those points of connection, the intimacy, the vulnerability, with the people who have come in and out of my life, hasn’t been for nothing.
From the ones I predicted weren’t going to stay long, to the ones who took me completely by surprise. Not every relationship and encounter is meant to be a lesson, but I’m still grateful for every experience in this short life.
Allow pain a seat at the table. Let it come close and get familiar. It may not protect you, but relish in the idea that you never know what you might find.
About me: I'm Nicole, the writer of A Crumb of Romance. I’m the co-author of The Half of It: Exploring the Mixed-Race Experience, a content creator and the co-host of the award-winning Mixed Up podcast. Having been chronically online since the age of 13, you can also find me on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and Pinterest.
"Allow pain a seat at the table" OK THERAPIST!!!! This is such a powerful reminder that with good comes the potential for bad, and that to find real love, we have to hand ourselves over with hope.