A long time ago, my mother had to do the unthinkable and ruin an engagement surprise. Before you judge, understand that she agonized over this decision. I won’t get into any of the details right now, as they are not so important, other than sharing that she wanted me to have time to process and sort out next steps, without the looming and intense pressure of what I thought everyone else expected from me.
When all was said and done, I acknowledged that it wasn’t the right situation for me, because I had been too wounded by the person on the other end of the proposal, but admitted that I struggled mightily with the decision. I ran all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘but fors’ through my head. I thought perhaps I could force myself to accelerate the healing process. I pondered the idea of moving forward in spite of the lack of trust that existed after so many years of lies and manipulation and infidelity.
I looked across at my mother’s worried face and explained that I was the most undecided decided that a human could possibly be.
In turn, she looked back at me and asked me the following questions: “What did I do as a parent to make you believe that you deserve poor treatment? How did I teach you to feel unworthy?”
I know, right about now you might be thinking something about Sus. Don’t. She doesn’t deserve it and you are so far from understanding, that it would only be a hasty judgment and an intense miscalculation on your part.
This exchange was not one where I was intended to feel guilty for causing my mother concern. Oh no. This was an incredibly difficult moment in my life where my mother was asking me to be self-reflective in a very different way. She was imploring me to look outside of my aching heart and feelings of obligation to understand why I would engage in a relationship that reinforced or even created feelings of low self-esteem.
I didn’t have good answer back then. I was in my twenties and I was certain that I was just making the same mistakes as everyone else in my peer group. I figured I had to stumble around like everyone else until I found my way. Sure, I harkened back to certain childhood traumas, but overall, I didn’t feel unique in my less than stellar decision making. It felt like part of the process of growing up. And so, I gave Sus a hug and reassured her that I would find my way, and move things along.
Fast forward a decade or two and I found myself sitting across from Sus and having a similar conversation.
To be clear, it’s not as if I haven’t learned a thing or two over the years. I’ve had a few relationships since then, and several friendships, and a smattering of therapists. I’ve explored, discussed, examined, planned, cried, laughed, and opened and closed my heart ten times over.
And still, Sus looked me dead in the eye and asked me why I pick people who are unavailable to me. For the sake of total transparency, there was a dear friend of mine who participated in the conversation and seemed to share Sus’ concern and assessment.
I felt defensive at first and worked hard to explain my position. I was disappointed that two humans who I love dearly and who I know love me back, had such negative feelings about me. But, as we spoke and I let my guard down, I began to understand where they were coming from. Why they feel the way they do and why they see things the way they do.
What is this piece all about?
Well, Sus asked me to write her a story for her birthday. This is fair. I write all the damn time and while she’s mentioned in many a piece, she’s rarely been the focal point for such. This is intentional on my part. Have you ever seen a sunset and been so enamored that you take a photograph of it and then marvel at the vast differential between the scene unfolding in front of you and the image captured by your phone or camera? Right. Same. I have always feared not doing the relationship justice, so I stick to cameos. Brief and pointed guest appearances.
But Sus made a request, and I’m not inclined to deny her this thing, as she asks for so little.
Are you wondering what this story is really about?
Well, love. Isn’t it obvious?
There is no truer state of love than someone who will ask you to be the very best version of yourself. There is no richer and more fulfilling kind of love than someone who thinks you are a magnificent being and kindly requests that you only spend time with other humans who feel the same. There is no more ever-lasting kind of love than that which helps you identify your flaws and faults in the gentlest way and then patiently waits as you work to become a better person. There is no more special love than someone who asks themselves how they might be contributing to your pain or suffering so that they themselves can do better and be better. That kind of love is empowering and life-changing. That is the kind of love that makes you want to turn into the human you’ve always want to be. That is the kind of love that makes you want to walk away from what doesn’t serve you. That is the kind of love that humbles you and renders you infinitely grateful. That is the rarest kind of love. The kind of unconditional love that originates at birth and grows with every minute and each and every willing bit of trust and surrender.
Sus is not perfect, nor am I. But together, we are a perfect mother-daughter duo. Together, I feel hopeful that love is real and friendship can be forever, and the right people never give up, never.
Sus has given me so much over my nearly forty-two spins around the sun. Thus, there is little I can do or write that would satisfactorily acknowledge this debt of gratitude that I owe to her.
I can only say thank you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for pushing me. Thank you for accepting me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for never giving up. Never give up. Keep asking questions. Always.
Happy birthday mama. I love you always. And forever. And more than that.
X
L.
thepathtoworthy.com 