It’s taken me to this gorgeous wise, age of 53 years to say that I do believe I am able to honor & enforce, unabashedly, my boundaries.
It’s taken me a life time of relationships with addicts, abusers, the unavailable, pathologicals, sociopaths.
It’s taken me being on my knees in gripping pain, in my attempts to save addicts from themselves that it literally nearly killed me in the process.
I have had ‘experiences.’
Literal clarity from the depths of my heart and soul that I will never go back there on one more rescue mission of any kind.
(Well, I’ll always rescue furry babies from the shelter, but you feel me.)
I’ve learned at this age and stage to love myself enough to say, thank you, but NO!
HELL NO!!! to that avenue of ‘growth.’
I do believe that everything being a lesson God would have you learn, my lessons in love are waning.
Shall we celebrate?!
I scream to the Gods and to the Universe & beyond.. “I GOT IT! I GOT IT! I PROMISE, I GOT IT!!”
And so when a beautiful man, with a tremendous heart and a generous soul, contacted me on a recent dating site I said yes… until it was a no.
In his voice I could hear and feel something amiss.
Just a little bit off.
Not necessarily detectable by most.
But to me…
I heard and felt the ‘off’ in him.
I asked him point blank, during our very first phone conversation, “Are you medicated?”
It fell on deaf ears…
We moved on… Well, HE did…
I was collecting data.
That’s what you do when you date, you collect data.
Are they worthy of this goddess?
Take your time. Be present. Be honest. Be patient.
Never again would I lead myself astray.
It was on our in-person-live-date, I asked again, “Are you medicated?”
“I just had dental work done. I’m on pain meds for that.”
More bells went off in my body.
Chills down the back of my spine.
This time I would not ignore my knowing.
I’m a fuckin Priestess, for God’s sake!
Let’s not make niceties to protect someone’s ego!
This is about ME!
I looked him square in the eye and said, “You look at me and you tell me how long you’ve been on pain meds.”
“Seven, maybe ten years. Who’s counting. It’s chronic, my pain. My back. I am awaiting medical technology to catch up to my needs. Until then, it’s morphine daily.”
Thank you very much for your forced honesty.
“This is a deal breaker for me. I’ve gotta go.”
That was over a week ago… and this goddess is CLEAR.
But the addict continues…
Bordering on begging…
I suggest that codependency is an addiction as well.
As well as ‘love-addiction’ and that proverbial cart before the horse.
There is no point in arguing with an addict.
Who am I trying to convince anyway?
He can’t hear ONE word.
He will never respect my boundaries if he has not a one for himself.
Am I convincing the Universe that I really do have this lesson now?
I recognize and will walk away from anything which is not right for me… even with “ALLLL the potential” as he insists.
The excuses I made as a girl, into woman-hood, into mid-life, into now, my priestess years…
Well, the buck stops here.
Thank you, God, but I’ve got this.
Thank you _____, but you’re not the guy for me.
And so I go on my sexy-assed-merry-way.
Stilettos clapping on hard wood.
In the distance coyotes yowl at the moon behind the clouds.
The poodle snuggles in as we drive away.
I love me far more than any potential rescue mission you offer.
The codependent is in the back seat. I’m driving now.
Hold on, beautiful, we’ve only just begun!
THIS is where it gets REAL good.