Sometimes when I'm thinking about how beautiful my life is now, I like looking back at some of the posts I wrote about Yannick. It's not because I like to fantasize or have any regrets or compare what I have now to what I did then, it's just because I like to remember about when I started to learn how to love.
I'm married to James now. He's my perfect match, my best friend and the future father of my children. He's the man I want to grow old with and the person I trust and love more than anyone else. He makes me feel safe and so full of joy. I'm proud that I married a man like James. I'm proud that we were able to work on our relationship, that we chose each other, and that we have eternity to be with each other. He is the culmination of every heartache and life lesson I've had to learn. He is the ultimate prize and blessing.
But the thing about James and our relationship, is that 7 years ago, I was a different person. 7 years ago when I was meeting and dating Yannick, I had many lessons to learn, and many ways to grow before I would be ready for James.
Seven years ago, I was a spit-fire. I was the rebel child, I was stubborn and curious and passionate. I had the hottest head and boundless energy. I wanted to feel everything and express everything. But I didn't have many friends and I didn't know how to express myself. I was too intense. I was a teenager.
Those passions went into planning my future, chasing my ambitions, fighting for independence, running, and finally, looking for someone who would accept me and every expression of feeling I could give them. I had felt staunched by my family. I felt different, too loud and strong, stubborn and argumentative. Too ungrateful, too non-conforming, too impatient too passionate. I didn't want to hear their opinions, I didn't want their judgement, I didn't want to do what they said. My life was the only thing I owned, the only thing that was mine that I could fashion into a reflection of my inner emotions that were longing to leap out and not be compressed by their expectations.
I needed an outlet for the expression and creativity bubbling inside of me. I didn't know where to go though, I didn't have a place where I felt like I could be my true self. I tried at the U, but my social circle was lacking and all my time was shunted towards survival.
Back at home in St. George, the entire town felt like they had the same status quo. I loved my friends from high school, but they carried the same expectations of how to act and think. I had a new appreciation for the financial and tangible support my parents provided, but inside I was still longing for a space. I worked out like crazy, my expression of self was swallowed up in training my body.
I was searching for somewhere that I could be free. Everyone around me seemed to think that a mission was the right next step. They were excited and found a thrill in the prospect, but to me that still felt flat. Being in the same community a couple states away was just as much of a prison as the one I was currently in. I didn't see any other way out though, so I considered just hanging in there long enough to serve a mission, and continue pushing down the self I longed to let out.
I was wondering if I would ever have a place I could be myself, or find a circle that wanted the full real me. I was wondering if there even was a place that celebrated someone like me. Someone a little too loud and outspoken and argumentative and emotional. I told myself that I was the problem, and I should get used to living in this place. Fake it til you make it. Some nights I felt I would just burst. All of the pent up emotion and ideas and passion and art and leadership inside my head. I didn't have a way to express it and no one would understand it. I ran. I lifted. I designed new workouts. That was an acceptable use of energy.
Still trying to find my place, figuring out exactly what it was I needed to get out of me, and feeling the swell of an emotion I didn't understand, a bolt of passion that made me want to jump and sing and cry and yell and paint and create and design and destroy and ride, I sat down in a class next to a boy.
The energy beaming out of my eyes, and tensing in my strong tan legs, I let some of my sun streak through in a staggering smile. My words betrayed nothing, but my body was coursing with electricity. "What did I miss?" The boy sat up and smiled like he knew we had a secret. His fierce green eyes betrayed their own flash of energy. As he spoke, we both retained the smallest amount of power bubbling up, just below the surface. But the class started and we relaxed into the scene.
I continued to see that spark in my seat buddy-Yannick, and without ever saying it, we had an understanding of who the other one was. It was natural when we started to go further. Conversations flowed. Time disappeared. Love happened almost instantly, then deepened as we tested our similarities and the sheer security of letting someone see us. There was no awkward, there was no formal. It was as simple as finally finding that space. He was new, intense and deep and intellectual. He was bold, but always accepting of what was. And it was natural for me to be loud and emotional and passionate and intense. It was natural for me to be me. Our electricity, our power, and energy, ambition, intense drive, independence, they were respected. Those were the highest priority. We didn't owe each other or own each other. We didn't and wouldn't ever expect a commitment, because there was no one else.
Those were the things that mattered to me 7 years ago. That was pure love and acceptance. So, when Yannick died, I felt like that space disappeared. I felt like the one person who I could be myself around and who understood me was gone. I felt like I didn't have a place any more. To me that was love and that was the only love I would ever have.
The amazing thing about growing up though, is that eventually we find ways to express ourselves. I found a place for my passion by learning new ways to express my love to friends and family, by becoming comfortable with myself enough to dance, to cry, to say I love you and hug, and of course by working out, doing triathlons, and going to med school. I found a new comfort with myself, and some of that energy dissipated as I learned value in community and even conformity. I still get random bursts of energy. I still get wanderlust, and sparks of ambition, and passion. I didn't find a way to let it all out, but I grew up so much in the past 7 years that it's not all on one person anymore.
Although I'm not the crazy, raging, emotional person I was 7 years ago, I still have a lot of those same characteristics albeit in smaller doses. I still don't feel 100% comfortable expressing myself completely with my family. I still get the sense that I don't belong. That's why 2 years ago, looking for love while dating was a real challenge. I was still looking for someone who on a smaller level would accept me with all my craziness and quirks. I had grown a lot, but acceptance was still a big part of how I needed to feel love.
That's when I found James, and learned why James is such a perfect match for me. He accepts me and all of my craziness and he loves me. I can be any type of person around him. I'm comfortable crying around him or rambling on about the things I'm excited about. I feel safe talking about what I'm nervous about or bringing up the same topic over and over again. He gets me.
If I didn't know how to communicate or open up or share my excitement though, I don't think our relationship and now our marriage would be as strong. When I was with Yannick, a lot was unsaid. We connected on a very deep level and he slowly helped me to open up by accepting me even when I couldn't communicate my emotions. After he died, I went to summer scholarship in Iowa, served a mission in Mongolia, made a real circle of friends, had a failed engagement, joined the Air Force, went to Turkey, started medical school and dated James. These and other experiences have helped me learn to communicate and express my emotions even more.
Without Yannick, I wouldn't have known how love feels to me, I wouldn't have had the security to try opening up and feel the freedom I had been longing for that comes with expression. Without all these learning experiences, I wouldn't be able to express my love to others fully. I'm so grateful for my husband James. He accepts me as I am, and was the icing on the cake of this long journey. I'm so happy that I am able to express everything in my heart to him. I'm grateful to God for sending me Yannick who was my first love and the space I needed to discover my expression. I'm grateful that I made it through that difficult growing period, and that I now know how to let my full personality out because with that expression I feel whole and able to be loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment