Yesterday, I stepped into the spotlight. Literally. It was one of the biggest days in my life. I took the steps of leading a public speaking/personal development workshop that I created out of nothing. I shared a lot about myself and my life with many people I’ve never met before. I curated an experience where 30 women could be seen and heard and reminded of their worth and power. By the end, complete strangers were sharing their inner truths with each other. Connections were felt all around. I had succeeded. When I was finished, my heart and soul were full.
I drove home almost in a trance as I replayed every second of the day in my mind’s eye. I was mentally, physically and emotionally spent…I left it all in that room. I poured myself out and gave them all the love and wisdom I had to give. I knew I had just stepped over the threshold of another beginning – into my calling and purpose. I’ve wrestled every bullshit limiting belief and story about myself to arrive here. I felt the enormous gravity of it, fully. And when I pulled into my driveway, I sat quietly reflecting for a few moments before pulling myself up and out of the car.
I was incredibly proud of what I had just accomplished and excited for what is to come, yet…in that moment, I also felt a sadness creep in. There was no one in the house waiting for me to pop a bottle of champagne and bearhug me and tell me how fucking proud of me he was. There was no one there to have dinner ready because he would know I hadn’t eaten a thing all day because of my nerves and my focus. Sometimes all I want is for someone who loves me and wants to build a life with me to be there and remind me what he sees when he looks at me. Sure, I had tons of messages from friends telling me how proud they are and I’m so grateful for that, but sometimes all I want is to have someone waiting FOR me. Someone to tell me how he’s witnessed me becoming and blossoming and he knows I’ve worked my ass off to love myself and how that inspires him to work on his own shit too. Someone who knows what a gift I am. Someone who reminds my daughters to tell me they love me and appreciate all that I do for them. Someone who knows how I didn’t even know what my dreams were for most of my life because I was too busy surviving, yet here I am chasing them with fierce courage and he beams with pride to be a part of them.
And the more simple things too, like someone to share about how the day went. Someone who knows how sensitive my heart is and how I love to dance all over the house, and how I need to sleep with the fan on and the window open and how I take my coffee and how every single one of my laughs sound. Someone who knows how enthusiastically I sing in the car or how hot I like my bath or that I always sleep on the left side of the bed. Someone who knows I can’t keep my fucking closet clean for whatever reason yet he loves me anyway. Someone who knows that when I’m hurting, I get really quiet and he’s present enough to notice and ask. Someone who knows how I smell and taste and how every inch of my body feels underneath his fingertips. Someone who loves that I can handle whatever life throws at me but chooses to walk beside me holding my hand because he understands we make each other even better. Someone who loves me and breathes me in and can’t stand the idea of me not being in his orbit.
Goddamnit. I miss intimacy. I miss having a partner in life. I miss feeling chosen. I miss morning sex. I miss someone loving me.
I hate that admitting that makes me feel ashamed, like I’m not a whole person by myself or how smart, attractive and independent single women aren’t supposed to feel this way, let alone say it out loud. I’ve been by myself for a long time and I’ve figured out how to be alone. Honestly, I needed to be alone so I could work through the shit that needed working through. I needed to learn what I didn’t want so I could extrapolate what I do. I needed to learn to choose quality over quantity and myself so I wouldn’t settle for anything less than what I deserve AND THAT TOOK SOME TIME.
I’m okay, really. I’d say I’m good most of the time, even. I am whole and don’t need anyone to complete me. I have been through hell to find the other part of myself and to heal them both. And mostly, I’m patient and willing to wait until the right person comes along. But I still crave a soft place to land. I still pray fo someone that I can take off the armor of strength I’ve always had to wear to be with. I still want to believe romance exists. And, I want to know what healthy love feels like for once in my life.