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The Problem With Wearing Your Heart On Your Sleeve

This is possibly one of the most important pieces I’m ever going to write. As I sit with my fingertips to keypad, my heart is fully open, and very tender. I can feel the ghosts of the past haunting the pages of my life, the stories I once told myself that I am now having to unravel, to move forward, and live my life as a functioning, normal, adult. It’s never easy getting to 34 and acknowledging that you’ve been doing it wrong.

There is a bittersweetness of loving with every moral fibre within you, it requires opening yourself up to the good and bad intentions of another being. To do so also means entrusting another fully, assuming they are capable of handling your fragile parts, but how can we ever be so sure that they are worthy of such a delicate instrument?

One of the core problems with wearing your heart on your sleeve is being willing to set your sleeve on fire at any moment. I say this with nothing but 34 years of patching up many lesions of my many chambers, as I have over the years begun to believe there is more scar tissue than working atriums.

Honestly, I do feel falling in love should come with a warning. I also feel we could do much better for our youth who are prey to Hollywood fantasies, as I once was. The over-glammafied princess meets a prince tale still plays out today, the storytellers of the entertainment world have just gotten better at personifying it and making it more relatable to us, the underdogs.

Loving in the way I have, so openly and so unconditionally over the years has also meant trusting another person impeccably. Of course, this works well when it matches the agenda of another, but when it does not, it’s time to take another dip into the bottom of a formidable ocean, to allow the storm to battle at the surface, as deep introspection begins the endless process of trying to put the pieces of self back together again.

Looking back at my life now, I can see, and perhaps you can relate, that every plot twist, dance with addiction, and death-rebirth moment has been the consequence of another broken heart. A metamorphosis of the soul happens with every romantic ending, and we are forced to rise like the phoenix, again.

But I'd say one of the biggest problems of wearing your heart on your sleeve, is putting another heart before your own. In doing this throughout my journey of life, I've changed course more times than I've jumped on the Central Line, and that is not an exaggeration. The compromising situations, the job changes, the moving in and out of +15 apartments through the city, all so I could take another hard hit at the school of life. Each response to another spark, or rejection has led me to this very page, talking to you right now at the cusp of hopefully, another romantic breakthrough.

Just to be clear, I am not saying that we shouldn’t love, as love is really the essence of life itself, where would we be without the warm feeling that encapsulates us on a cold winter’s night? What I am saying is that love needs to emanate from within us before living out a life acting in fight or flight responses, bouncing from one trauma to the next, just like I did.

To be the tree within your own forest means no other trunks can ever uproot you, and you continue to grow taller and stronger with every season.

I hope my shared experiences will permit you to take a deeper, inner reflection at self, and offer you a moment to check in which direction that love is radiating, because my beautiful woman, it always started and ended with you.

Until next time bessies


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