“I don’t care if it hurts, I want to have control, I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul, I want you to notice when I’m not around, You’re so fucking special, I wish I was special”
Creep – Radiohead
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about unconditional love.
Its so crazy to me – you see all the memes about loving unconditionally, dancing like no one’s looking, daring to be you and all that jazz. Those things, that notion of loving unconditionally — its important. As we live our lives, as we try and be happy and be confident in our own skin, it really is kind of critical – you can’t care what others, at least the overwhelming majority – think of you.
Just do. Along that path, I think most of us have gotten the message.
It’s pretty easy, in all honesty, to love without any preset conditions. Think about it, think about all the bullshit you accept, take and allow from those you love. You’re not be wall-to-wall carpeting, but you might very well be a doormat some days. Either way, someone is wiping his or her feet on you, and you unconditionally accept it.
When we, as mature adults, walk out into this world knowing what we’ve experienced, armed with the trials and tribulations we’ve travelled; the pain … the suffering … the joys … We put on our best mask and we do our level headed best to accept those around us. Once we’ve made it past the circus that is our childhood years, I’m going to be generous and say most of us actually “get” it.
Then it struck me – unconditional love actually isn’t the problem, we’ve just had the calculus all wrong.
Recently, I saw a Facebook post from a friend of mine. Not an extremely close friend, but someone I would say I’ve witnessed the nature of their heart. That said, I realize the assumptions I’ve made are based on very little of what I know about the flesh and blood person. But he said something about needing to get his jealousy and insecurities under control.
That. Blew. Me. Away.
How could this guy, who has so much naturally and earned beauty and talent, be suffering from jealousy and insecurity?
Seriously. This guy is beautiful. He’s smart, he’s passionate, he’s driven and witty – the kind of guy women fawn over and men want to be. So to think that he might be dealing with jealousy and insecurity issues kind of threw me for a loop.
Its not loving unconditional we have a problem with, it’s accepting unconditional love. If I don’t think myself worthy of love, how could you possibly doubts are going to creep into the most subtle and overt of my thoughts. All of the time, at the worst times, when you’re not here, when you’re talking to that one, when you’re not here.
And it’s not right. Fact is, its pretty horrible. How dare we place so much on people, let alone a single person. And yet time and time again, there we go, assigning weight to things that are weightless, chasing ghosts, seeing demons where none exists.
Even when the demons do exists, when concerns are real, we make them out to be so much more than they really are. Let me be clear, there are obviously things that need to be worried about, there are worries to be had. But, a mind left alone, with no answers is arguably the worst thing in the world.
It’s like a game of Mad Libs were you fill in the blanks with the worst, most damning and damaging answers possible. And the hurt, as imagined as it may be, multiplies. Before you know it, it’s out of control in your own mind. Before you even know what the hell just happened, you’ve gone and done something, based purely on speculation. Typically, something really dumb, something that threatens the fabric of all you knew. A bit of things unknown, things unspoken, things kept secret, whether by design, by fault or by accident.
You fill in the blanks with all your baggage …
What I want to find within me, is that space that accepts. That throws all of my years of baggage to the side, opens my arms and accepts.
But I’m too ugly.
But I’m too fat.
But I’m not successful enough. I’m not smart enough, I’m not dedicated enough … I’m not whatever enough.
The troves of “wisdom” I’ve heard through the years from those I somehow made “scared.” The only way the could feel good about themselves — feel anything at all — was by making small those around them.
And all of the bullshit this world fills you with. Will drown you with. Will make you believe that no matter how hard you try you are not good enough.
But you are.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.