CONFESSION: The thought of being in a real relationship with a man scares the crap outta me.
Well, to borrow a phrase from Rachelle Ferrell, there are “wounds in the way“.
And not only that, but some of them, as pointed out in that song, aren’t even mine.
They are wounds that have been passed down from generation to generation, landing at my feet, expecting to be picked up like a new pair of shoes that I want.
What’s really hard to admit about me having these wounds is that I seriously I thought that I was OVER them!
Healed from them.
Done with picking the scabs, rubbing ointment, being bothered with the irritating itch afterwards.
And yet, here I am…admitting that I still feel the phantom ache of wounds that I thought were long gone.
To talk about these wounds that have me afraid actually irritates me. As I previously mentioned, like Ms. Ferrell’s said, “they don’t even belong to [me].”
Some of these wounds steam from hearing about other people’s relationship.
Some of these wounds come from witnessing things that happened to my mother and other women in their relationships.
Some of these wounds are “perceived” only because of something I’ve read, or heck, even independently thought.
And you know what? These wounds HURT!
The pain may not be real, but the ache still hurts.
The pain hurts my mind; it hurts my thought process where men are concerned.
The wounds hurt my expectations of myself, of what I would desire in a relationship, of what I even may think I desire in a relationship.
The wounds are causing rivers of un-bridged gaps that seem to get further and further away from being capable of being bridged at all.
I once had a guy (that I thought I was trying to “date”) tell me I had no idea what I was doing.
And sadly, I agreed with him.
But even more sadder (?? term of speech??) I STILL agree with him.
There are wounds in the way……..