Your Failed Relationship Does Not Make You A Failure

Oops… I did it again. I’ve broken my heart, got lost in the pain. Oh baby, baby.

When I say I never thought I’d be writing this, I mean I NEVER thought I’d be writing this. I thought we found each other. I thought I finally did it. I thought I was being rewarded for all my heartache from the past. I thought this was IT. I thought he was IT. We fit together so well and not a soul in our lives would disagree.

I let go of the notion of “the one” after my last relationship from years ago. It’s a concept that keeps people holding on for far too long while also keeping us from living in the moment because we’re so concerned if this person is “the one”?

I knew he was great for me, that we were great for each other. Not in the beginning, though. I thought there was something missing, something lacking because I didn’t fall crazy, madly, deeply in love in one month like the movies. But over time I realized it was this steady love that I needed. It was the consistency, the support, the safety that came with loving him and being loved by him. He didn’t need to be “the one” because he was everything I needed just being himself.

But I did it again, as I’ve done before. I lost myself in love. I nourished the relationship with him while neglecting the relationship with myself. In doing so, I placed all my happiness in one source, one person, and would lash out when I didn’t feel it being reciprocated. Our relationship became this push and pull for love and attention that I wanted from him but so clearly was not giving myself.

Our relationship became a push and pull. I failed to fill my own cup, thus taking away from his. But this man loved me, and he gave and gave until he was empty too. I focused so much on what he wasn’t doing instead of all the wonderful things he was doing. I focused on lack rather than gratitude. And there we were, two people who loved each other but lacked the needed communication and awareness to step back and reassess. Our life was great, full of laughter, friends, and beautiful memories that helped us fill in the spaces when we weren’t clearly communicating our needs and desires.

And then it ended, my world shattered. Dramatic, I know, but I mean it. I felt blind-sighted, I felt betrayed. “I love you, but I’m not in love with you” will forever play in my head. He was willing and ready to walk away from what I thought was a great relationship. After days of sadness, anger, tears, and resentment, we finally had the communication we needed to have months ago. We admitted to our own shortcomings. We pinpointed where issues were submerged to save the peace.

He wished I was less needy, I wished I listened.

I wished he was a better communicator of his feelings, he wished he knew how.

We held each other and cried while we said our goodbyes. And now I sit with it. The shame of failing yet again, at maintaining a healthy relationship. And what’s funny is I went to therapy for it years ago. And I stopped when I felt that “a-ha” moment of clarity. “Oh, that’s why this keeps happening, duh.” I started the work but I didn’t finish it. I learned the “why” but didn’t stay to learn the tools to keep it from happening again. I blamed myself at first. I truly felt like the biggest failure.

There are times in your life when you get to choose to be the victim. Don’t choose it. There are times when you get to play the blame game. Don’t play it. Relationships are a two-way street, a tango, and a lifetime of learning and growing with another person. We didn’t need compromise to find happiness, we needed compassion for each other’s needs and wants, for our own needs and wants.

Your partner should not be your sole source of happiness. I mean, think about the pressure that puts on someone. Yes, they should bring you joy, love, and support, but it must be on top of the love and support you give yourself. You fell in love with someone as an individual human being with their own hobbies and interests and it’s vital to always honor that. But most importantly, honor it in yourself first.

I’m mad at him for not telling me sooner so that we could have talked about it rather than abruptly uprooting our lives. He sees that now. I don’t know if it would have changed anything. I like to believe that it would have. Until next time.