(Video) I’m so Tired of Attracting Emotionally Unavailable Men

Originally posted on Elephant Journal.

Dear Lover,

Or should I say former lover? Ex-lover?

I thought that when I let go of you, I was letting go of love: Of that luscious feeling of being held in a warm blanket of never-ending cuddles and soft, smooching kisses, of butterflies, and feeling as blissful as I did looking into your eyes.

But you know what happened?

It feels like I lifted those rose-tinted glasses from my eyes and see the world more like it is: You and me as the people who we are in this moment—and not the fantasy I had of who we could be together.

It happens, right? That when two people meet they only see the beauty in each other. How they fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. A match made in heaven.

In that dream we were glorious magic, riding sparkling unicorns over rainbows. Creating a world beyond our imagination. You were supporting me growing into my fullest potential. And I was helping you, fulfilling your dreams.

Together we would make endless road trips to the countries we both dreamed of (amazing, right, how so many of our dreams synchronized?) and, one day, when our kids had grown up, buy a little house in the country and make it our palace.

But reality hit me hard. You are avoidant and I’m anxious in this connection. My inner woman was yearning for your presence. Patiently waiting for months, inviting you over again and again while bearing another, “I can’t make it.” I didn’t know I could compromise with an open heart. Now I know I can. Because there’s a difference between owning my desires and compromising, even with a heart wide open.

That’s when I realized my inner feminine needed my own inner masculine. I didn’t need you to save me from the world and make my life better. I needed me to save me from you and make my life better.

It’s not that you are a bad person. But you bring out the bad in me.

It hurts like hell.

To say to someone as amazing as you are that I let you go, while that deep longing in my heart to be loved and cherished for the woman that I am doesn’t subside at all. It feels like cutting my heart out with a sharp knife.

Sadness hits me hard. But I wonder which was harder: Letting go of the moments with you, or of the fantasies of the moments I believed we could have had? Letting go of you, or the dream I had of you?

I cried when I told you. I cried more before and after. Then I got angry. Why didn’t you run over to me when I told you I let you go, to tell me you wanted me? Why did you let go of me so easily? Or is that just the part that you show me? I guess your brief response summarized where you stand more clearly than anything else.

Then, I got frustrated.

I’m so tired of attracting emotionally unavailable men.

Today, I noticed I’m walking straighter than usual. I feel stronger than I have for a long time. And I realize that I made the right choice. It’s like a certain autonomy has found its way back into me. I’m aligned with myself again. I still feel wobbly and emotional, but underneath that is such a strong, calm current, making me feel in all my pores that, yes, this is self-love. This is my truth.

Thank goodness for sisters and their endless support without questions. For telling me how brave I am for letting you go. For telling me I have cut a pattern by stepping out of a mechanism that looks nice from a distance, but is exhausting from within. For reminding me this is a process of aligning for what I really want to attract into my presence.

I feel excited, dear lover, for what is going to come.

It’s not you—although I thought for a while that it would be you. But you, and the ones before you, prepared me for something else, something new and even deeper. And for that I am grateful, because through you I have gotten to know myself a bit better.

Love didn’t end when I told you I’m letting you go. I still love you for all that you are. You are amazing. You are beautiful. You are smart, and sexy as hell.

And, you’re not my man.

 


Author: Wilrieke Sophia 
Image: Averie Woodard/Unsplash
Editor: Leah Sugerman

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