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Eat broccoli. Work out. Tell the truth. Break up. Go to work.
Doing the right thing is not easy. Maybe it doesn’t feel good.
Sometimes, I’m tired of doing the right thing; it doesn’t always pay off, and it rarely works out the way I expect or want it to.
Recently, I left a toxic relationship. It was not the first time my partner and I had broken up, and yet, it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life because I knew, in my bones, this time was for keeps. He was a part of my life in a way no one else ever was, and I will miss him until the day I die.
I had to break my own heart to make the right choice.
Yet my self-respect, my self-esteem, and my self-love finally became more important than lies, manipulation, and broken promises that didn’t actually materialize into anything substantial.
I found myself asking, “Who am I actually in love with? What is even real?”
Nightmares, intrusive thoughts, and anxious concern over other partners, who were unaware of the depth of deception, kept me pacing the floors of my life, wondering how I would move on and build a life not centered around another person anymore.
New life choices are being made. New job. New connections. Eat healthy. Sleep. Meditate. Therapy. Walk. Still, as the pain burns in my soul during my nightly hot Epsom salt baths, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.
I long for the return of my solid belief in my intuitive nature, how I long to trust others, and myself, again. Will I ever be healed? These are thoughts invading my brain and words to write them out.
I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am doing. Maybe in the process of putting one foot in front of the other, I will discover a soft place to land again.
I connect with friends and others with similar experiences. The respectful response I receive reminds me that even as I do the right thing and it feels like sh*t, someone, somewhere, may be affected in a way that allows them to finally embrace honesty with themselves too.
Maybe this is how the horrible “right thing” grows and allows others to follow suit. It starts with one person who faces the fear of judgement and scrutiny, the fear of being seen as the villain in someone else’s story so they can embrace reality and authenticity.
This is what I had to accept: my fear of being labeled the b*tch and bad guy. I was the easy scapegoat, the collateral damage in a relationship built on dishonesty.
The crazy one.
It doesn’t matter how hard I tried to change the status quo, the love was real and the relationship was a façade.
“I’m not leaving you,”
was the plea you clung to when
you left the last time.
Duplicitous words don’t make
your actions sting any less,
cementing the irony.
Death of my soul is
required each time you put me
back into the box.
I became your collateral
damage in the war of ego
you fought with yourself.
I left to reject the lies and finally embrace the truth.
I will never be a secret or keep a secret for anyone again. The cost to my soul is too great.
I will eat my salad, take my daily walk, sleep for eight hours, and wake up crying from the dreams. I will go to work anyways.
As I walk around with a hole in my heart, I will build a new life I can be proud of.