Awakening Through Relating
Whenever I choose to step deeper into relationship with someone, I am often overwhelmed with my capacity to love and be loved. It feels overwhelming and I look to find something wrong, I look to make them wrong.
The expansion and explosion I feel in my chest feels like pain, fear, and a fuck ton of orgasmic joy, and holy YIKES, it feels like “too much” to hold. “Too big” of emotions. So, I run. And often punish myself or the other for feeling something so deep.
How dare you feel.
I’ve been called a psychopath from men enough times in my life that it doesn’t even hurt at this point - not meaning I go unaffected, but meaning I’ve cut the nerve that allowed me to feel the unbearable devastation and rejection in the statement “You’re fucking psycho”.
What I heard was, you’re too big, I can’t handle you, and worse, because of the way you are, who you are at your core, I don’t want to dance with you. This then lead to a self fulfilling prophecy/integrated story that men want something tinyer to dance with, something that won’t take up space, or be too loud, too emotional, too existent.
You’d think I may take the route of trying to make myself tinyer, more feminine, softer, smaller, but instead I cut myself off from all intimate connection with men and chose to punish them with my bigness. Suffocating them with my a lot-ness, I made sure there was no fucking room for men, if there was no room for me.
A few weeks ago a dear friend of mine was openly referring to my psychopath, the patterns it runs, why I chose it, how it serves me, etc.
As my beloved sat and listened, he turned to me and said,
I want to see your psychopath. I welcome it, your meanness, all of you.
Oooo did that get me squirming. A man wants to see my psychopath?! My anger is allowed?! The pain, agony, and rage that lives inside me is not only welcomed but eagerly invited?!
By chaining up these parts of us, we starve our partners, lovers, friends, from the opportunity to taste us fully, every aspect, and get to consensually say fuck yes to dancing with it.
In my experience this life is a clusterfuck of continuing to wake up from a dream morning after morning to a new reality, a new perspective, and a new opinion of how the world works and what everyone else should be doing.
Today, I feel on fire with passion and completely in love with the man I get to dance with, a man that eagerly awaits the new me he will get to know each day, and a man who brings all of himself here, fully, to dance until we can’t dance no more.
The good, the bad, the ugly, the unlovable.
Woof, is this life a fucking gift. 
