A few weeks ago, I had to say goodbye to someone dear to me. This was not a novel concept but still, each time, having to let go when you didn’t want to could turn your mind into a warzone. 

Taking accountability to the extreme, I was wildly grasping for faults and reasons, because if I could find them, I could fix them. I was quick to accept every point that he raised, claiming all the blame and inflating them a hundredfold. 

The weight of regret was crushing, and this post was originally meant to condemn myself. But in the process of writing, somehow I turned into my own lawyer. 

After a string of bad luck with love, all I prayed for was someone who would feel lucky to be with me. I thought, when you count someone or something as your blessing, you’ll try your absolute best to keep them.

On my first date with The Tree Grower, I kept catching him staring at me. He laughed it off and said, “I can’t believe my luck that I’m going out with you.” 

Is he the answer to my prayers? 

Our sparks were not instantaneous, but his gentleness, his self awareness, and all the efforts he made when we were getting to know each other made me want to stay. In his words, I watered our garden and flowers bloomed. 

I started seeing The Tree Grower a few months after I walked away from a man who could only offer me a situationship. While moving on was excruciating, I returned to the world of dating with newfound confidence and relational skills. I was armed with two important lessons: One, that I had people-pleasing tendencies as I’d learnt in previous relationships, which I’d need to be aware of and actively manage. But two, that I was also able to stand up for myself and leave situations that did not align with what I was looking for in life. 

From sharing upfront about what I was looking for, consistently checking in with myself to make sure that every decision I made stayed true to my compass, noticing and appreciating even the little things, choosing positive reinforcements over criticisms, to speaking up as clearly, kindly and timely as I could… I felt like, this time around, with The Tree Grower, I was doing it right. 

True as it might be, trouble was brewing, surreptitiously. This excerpt from Rikki Cloos’ The Anxious Hearts Guide provided some insights into what had likely happened:

An anxious attacher has the unfortunate habit of speeding toward intimacy and commitment, and a new (or false!) sense of confidence and self-assuredness can make this tendency even worse. It’s vital that now, at your most confident, you don’t throw yourself prematurely into a relationship with someone who feels good but hasn’t proved their mettle.

I jumped too fast. I thought he was the answer to my prayers, and before we laid the groundwork of truly knowing each other, I prematurely took a leap and attached myself to the outcome – that he was endgame, no matter what. 

I didn’t understand it at the time, but sometimes I would get the feeling in my stomach that something was not quite right. Our relationship felt comfortable, yes. We were both mature, giving individuals, absolutely. And from the surface, it seemed healthy with all the hard talks and check-ins, sure. But there was also a persistent fogginess, like I couldn’t quite see clearly. It was as if a veil hung between my faith in our potentials and the reality of our relationship. 

He felt it too. He brought up a few times that he felt unhappy, but somehow I couldn’t grasp the reason. It was elusive and I could never pinpoint the root of the problem. 

At one point, we thought it might be his insecurities and a penchant to run away. It always pained my heart when he shared all the bad things he believed about himself. Because, despite his imperfections, I saw a kind heart. A sharp mind. A crude sense of humor. A willingness to take a hard look at himself. I recognized parts of myself in him and I wanted him to believe all these things about him too. I wanted him to know that someone fiercely loved him, accepted all his light and his darkness, and consciously and consistently chose him. Even when it was hard. Even when in doubt. 

So, I prioritized patience and was extra generous with my appreciation, taking nothing for granted. I took great pains selecting my questions and provided gentle suggestions, but wouldn’t push too hard because – from my own experience – I knew it takes time to heal. This only led to the impression that I was shrinking myself, which took away respect. 

With each failed attempt at understanding, I grew more and more anxious. I started walking on eggshells. My hope remained stubborn, but every now and then I would wonder if and when the other shoe was going to drop. 

Then it finally did. As he listed down the reasons why we didn’t work, I counted all the regrets in my head.

I should have waited a bit longer before I went back to dating. 

If only I’d been more aware when my anxious tendencies crept back in; when I was more worried about upsetting him than I was about not speaking up.

I should have read more self-help books, asked more questions, pushed back harder. 

I beat myself up for my shortcomings, momentarily forgetting all the hard work I’d put into the relationship. Our breakup brought my very growth and character into question.

Had I imagined my own progress? 

Was every decision I made during the relationship simply based on my fear of losing him? 

I thought I’ve become much more secure, but am I really just a coward?

On and on it went, until a different voice started to stand up for me. 

Yes, there was a part of you that was scared of losing what you had, but that wasn’t the only reason you extended a lot more patience and understanding than others might have in this situation. You did it because you are the kind of person who tries very hard to put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Plus, you weren’t planning to do it forever. You maintained some boundaries and had a timeline in mind. Sure, you could have communicated those better, and that’s an important lesson to carry forward. But that should not discount your efforts. 

Do you sometimes censor yourself and withhold sharing until you have properly processed it for yourself? You do. But you do it because you want to be sure and not hurt others with half-digested facts and feelings. Not out of malice. Does it sometimes take you a while to process your experiences? Sure, it does. But you’re allowed to learn at your own pace and make mistakes. Now you also know there are better ways to do this: Disclose that every now and then there might be things you are not sure of, that you may need some time to process, and ask for their patience. 

You could communicate all you want, but it meant nothing if comprehension was not achieved. Sure, you could have asked more questions when you didn’t understand his request and pushed back harder when you disagreed with his approach. But you did your best based on the information and the tools you had at the time. And doesn’t it take two to tango? He, too, could have tried harder to articulate his needs and explored different ways to help you understand him better. 

Multiple things can be true at the same time and, as my therapist said, hindsight is always 20/20. 

Did I have shortcomings? Absolutely, who doesn’t? But did I truly try my best based on the information and the tools I had at the time? There’s no denying it. I need to give credit where credit is due. Even he recognized that I really brought my best self to our relationship and gave it everything I had.

Now that I know better, I’ll do better. And I so badly wanted to do better with The Tree Grower. 

As we discussed whether we really wanted to break up or try again, he teetered between staying and going. At some points, he said he was going to stay and that he didn’t want to see anyone else. I clung to those moments, desperately trying to understand why he ended up changing his mind.

But does it really matter? The conclusion is that he doesn’t want to try anymore. For whatever reason, and I may never uncover the single objective truth, he doesn’t want to try again. He’s doing what he believes is best for him, and I respect that.

Instead of letting regrets swallow me whole, I’m finding peace in the fact that I did the best I could. Even if I went back in time and did it all over again, I might still make the same choices because I needed to go through this to learn these lessons.

So now, I’m focusing on falling in love with myself again and rebuilding my relationship with me. I still miss him and cry my eyes out every now and then, but I also allow myself to soak up every drop of joy and love I can find. 

It turns out, I’m a great partner. I’m generous with my love, I’m fun, I’m up for new experiences. I’m patient, I’m kind, I don’t shy away from difficult feelings. I’m open-minded, I’m growth-oriented, I’m accountable. My friends absolutely adore me. (They have good taste, so that truly says something!)

And, one day, I’ll meet someone who will tirelessly catch all our shoes with me. Not a single one will drop.

Credits:

Images by Matt Bango