permission is a choice

I started going to therapy. It’s been a month or so, I cannot grasp how intensely connected I feel about the space provided to me to freely explore the emotions I can’t quite comprehend. I haven’t told many of my reasoning, which honestly feels like I have detached from. I have been exploring previous trauma and my overall detachment and uncertainty towards my own emotions but more than anything my trouble with connecting to others.

I don’t think I’ve noticed that throughout my whole life, I’ve completely romanticized every relationship I have with another human being to the point that when it became real I was unexpectedly detached from the reality and disappointed by the betrayal of my own fantasy. I mean familial, friendly and romantic relationships. It’s a battle of all in one.

Noticing my habitual problems, my therapist easily pointed out that I have a tendency to be cynical. In my cynicism, I fully believe I am truly just reading what’s beneath the surface of someone’s attitude. Instead, I’m just assuming the worst of them while claiming that my honesty is my strongest quality. And in that quality, I have been awarded the prize of my aloofness.

I noticed within my most recent relationship that I believed that I was circling around their emotions, not tiptoeing in their desires because I felt they loved the space we had between us but in reality it was my push-pull tendencies with the idea of vulnerability. I don’t believe anyone was at fault, at times I can comprehend why I am difficult to read when my behavior gives indifference when in reality I feel it all so deeply.

People often villainize me for being emotionally distant and unpredictable, I failed to see it as such. I thought my lack of physical touch came from a boundary and not from a protective state of my space.

In all my thoughts, I had so many questions that I had to raise in myself. One of them being the unhappiness within my current relationship, I couldn’t quite explain why we felt misaligned or what was sincerely causing my indifference and it truly was the lack of communication. Both parties assuming they knew what the other wanted and dancing around the grey area that provided us comfort. I decided I didn’t like that grey area, it was either time to give it my everything or nothing at all. There’s absolutely nothing rewarding about not exploring the full potential of a connection that could ultimately be something good even if it doesn’t necessarily last.

In the week that we engaged in difficult conversations about the future of our connection, he saw I was serious about my change to depth. I saw that he felt like I was often letting him out. He expressed that I never let him in my space, I felt like he was in it often but it wasn’t substantial it was emotional. He physically wanted to be present in my environment, in my room.

I felt so protective of my room for so long, I often feel it’s the part of my previous breakup that was left unhealed. What would it mean for me to allow someone else in the space once again I had claimed as my own? My ex was sweet, I don’t believe anything comforted him like my space. My own personal space became his comfort, I felt like I owed it to him to share it. My therapist pointed out that just because a relationship was good doesn’t inherently mean it didn’t negatively impact you. I dwelled in the thought for few weeks after. It’s true. I wouldn’t take anything back about my previous relationship, that doesn't mean I wasn’t allowed to have certain negative emotions attached to it.

I kept my room the same, intact from when my breakup had occurred in it. Then my months of crying, writing and not eating about. I didn't let anyone inside. I am not exactly sure what I was protective about whether it’s because the breakup happened in here and I was still grieving the space or whether it felt like a betrayal to my ex to allow someone into what might have been his comfort room.

When I allowed someone new, someone certain in again, my now relationship. I felt a quiet burden. I haven’t fully explore that yet. I saw him touching the same things my ex did, saying the same things about my space and touching me in a way that felt all familiar. I noticed in that time, I didn’t claim it as my ex’s space, I claimed it as a space I didn’t want jeopardized or owed to anyone other than me. What if he felt the same way my ex does and took over the one spot I call mine? My independence felt threatened, I didn’t want to share my all.

I noticed I didn’t have to. Everything was a choice. Just like he listened to my needs and concerns I gave myself the permission to do the same. You can’t assume what everyone is thinking but you can respond in a way that can be best for the situation. Once he left my room, I was left feeling confused.

I changed my room entirely and recreated the space I called my own. I can share it freely but I also need to remember that the space and choice is mine to make. As long as I know it’s a choice I am making, I am willing to take the chance.