Ode to those who left me

For a long time I was angry.  I felt that some sort of twisted punishment was bestowed on me for some grievous transgression I must have haphazardly committed.  Gifted to me was this heart so eager and willing to love, yet it kept falling into the hands of those that didn’t seem to want it.  As time went on my gift had grown into a curse I would resent.

Countless were the times a coworker or a friend would inquire astoundedly, “Noelle, how is it that you are still single?”  To which I could only shrug my shoulders.  Its not as though I hadn’t wracked my brain or spent sleepless nights soul searching for an answer to that very question, because I had, but I found that to be a painful existence.  After some many years of this question that had plagued me, the only answer I could muster was that I just hadn’t found the right guy.  In all honesty, the answer felt pitiful and half assed.

I had plead my case with God before, many many times.  With all the suffering I had endured in the wake of my failed relationships I had begun to feel more or less a sense of, “you owe me.”  Entitlement is not a suit anyone should adorn but after each unrelenting heart ache, after every single tear shed, after every raging insecurity hung out to dry, I couldn’t help but ask, “when will enough be enough…”  

I have never been one to sit around and wait for someone to walk into my life.  Chalk it up to impatience if you’d like, but I didn’t very well fancy the thought of ending up alone.  I was a very active participant in my dating life and was always willing to put myself out there.  The reward of finally finding that special someone always out weighed the risk of being broken.  At least that is how I saw things until someone actually broke me.  

The task of gathering the pieces and putting yourself back together is no easy feat nor is it something one builds a tolerance to.  Each and every time it happened my world fell apart.  I would spend my days forcing a smile, make believing that I never really cared for him in the first place, so that those around me might never know just how much I hated myself.  In the quiet solitude of my bedroom I would cry and cry.  Ashamed of the pain I was in, angry at myself for being fooled so easily, and mad at the rest of the happy couples in the world, I would just lay there and cry.  Heavenly Father, why?  Why is this happening again?  Am I not learning the right lesson?  Why must I go through this?  Why won’t they give me a chance? What is wrong with me?

Enough time would pass, the hurt and the torment would slowly subside, and once again I would solemnly return to my feeble answer and hope that far beyond what I could see, that maybe there was a little truth to my answer.  Perhaps I still just hadn’t found the right guy.

I was given mixed reviews from family and friends.  On one end I had those telling me that I was too picky and my standards were much too rigid.  I was advised that if I ever wanted to find someone I had to learn to be more flexible and compromising.  Those on the other end of the spectrum shouted to never stop searching, you deserve to find someone that is everything you want and you will, you just have to keep going.  The cynic in me wanted to side with the former, but the ever omnipotent idealist in me would never surrender and continue the hunt for happiness… at least until I turned 30.  Maybe then I would let go of this mystical unicorn.

And then I found Tycen.

For the first time all the dribble I had begrudgingly listened to my friends prattle on about at bridal shower after bridal shower finally made sense.  “When you know, you know.”  It was the most illogical and idiotic thing I had ever heard uttered, but that was because I had never experienced it myself.  I hadn’t known that silly statement to be so incredibly true.  I loved many a man before and the thought crossed my mind in several relationships that, “I could marry this man.”  That sensation was always laced with just a bit of doubt because somewhere deep in my heart, I knew to some degree I was settling.  It may have been something small, some trifle quirk that most people would chide me for even thinking, but that didn’t lessen the lingering doubt.  With Tycen it was different.  There was never any room for doubt… I just knew.

For so long I had burdened myself with blame for every failed romance.  I had begun to believe that something was terribly wrong with me and I was so fatally flawed that no one would ever love me enough to stick by me.  I was trapped in a prison of resentment for all the men who had hurt me and I was even angry with our Father in Heaven for allowing this travesty to happen time and time again… but Tycen freed me.

I felt myself let go of all the anger I had been harboring.  Everything was so easy and simple with Tycen.  It gave weight to all those times I stood there begging for some sort of answer and receiving a measly, “it shouldn’t be this hard.”  I would roll my eyes at that and scoff, but now I understand what all those men were saying.  So much baggage and weight has been lifted from my soul through his love.  I am finally able to truly let go of all of it by basking in my own happiness and for the first time in my life, celebrating the happiness that each one of those men found after me.

It is here and now where I actually need to thank all of them.  Each and every single one of those men that broke my heart deserves a sincere thank you.  I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t have left any of them, even if I wasn’t as happy as I knew I could be.  Much like my heart that is so easy to love, I am also cursed with a loyalty that will never let me leave.  I am grateful that each of them had enough insight and fortitude to know that there was someone better out there waiting for me.  I especially thank each of those men for being brave enough to break my heart.  All too often I was on the receiving end of such torment but I do know how incredibly difficult it is to cause that amount of harm to another human being, it hurts just as much.  Each and every one of you did me the biggest favor by dumping me, because I couldn’t be happier.  He is everything I ever wanted and everything I never knew I wanted.  He is the one that Heavenly Father was preparing me for.  I thank you, all of you, and I sincerely hope that each of you are able to find the same happiness I have.

Let me be enough

My pregnancy could be described as the envy of other women.  Often when describing my symptoms or lack there of, I am often met with a scowl or a short, “I hate you.”  Its true, I lucked out in the gene pool.  My mom had relatively mild pregnancies with all four of her children so it stood to reason my pregnancy might mirror that.  I have even one-upped my own mother with the fact that I have a frame more conducive to carrying a baby.  My mom delivered all her babies fairly early, simply because she ran out of room to carry any of us for any longer.  Me? I’ve got the room.  Wide hips and a long torso make for a cozy little home indeed.

While I’ve avoided several of the dreaded symptoms, the nausea, the swelling, the food aversions, even food cravings, there is one thing that has stuck with me rather pervasively.  That is the overwhelming fear that I am going to screw this poor kid up.  It might sound silly, but I am more than aware that this next job, this next roll I am taking on, will be the most important thing I ever do with my life… ever.  This is a job I can’t quit when it gets too hard or when I feel tired and underappreciated.  I can’t even call in sick.  This will require every minute of every day.  Even when I am sleeping I will be on call.  I don’t take any of this lightly.

Beyond the incredibly demanding work schedule I am required to navigate the world of today and somehow find a way to bring up a healthy, happy, and functioning member of society. How on earth am I supposed to do that???  With the media and gadgets, the apps and the advertisements, and boat loads of information pulling a parent in different directions, how am I supposed to discern what is best for my child?

Some people might not know this about me but I actually graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in a major called, “Child and Family Studies.”  No kidding.  For years I sat there in a classroom learning how to raise a child from birth to adulthood.  I took child development, I learned how to coach a child through their emotions and I learned how to educate parents on how to parent their own children.  I took classes on relationships between spouses and between parent and child.  I have more knowledge on this subject matter than the average mommy so to speak.  Even still I feel completely unequipped and unprepared for the magnitude of this endeavor.

I worry about the amount of changes coming my way and whether or not I will be able to handle them.  I fret over being able to provide enough for this new life.  Contrary to what the Beatles said, love is not all you need!  Love doesn’t pay bills or buy diapers!  I’m not trying to sell love short, because a baby with material things and no love will not thrive or survive, but I am not so naïve as to believe that love will be enough.  Money and love isn’t enough.  I have knowledge, but do I know enough?  Have I learned enough that I can really help this child have all they need?

There are these moments, when I feel the little kicks and wiggles of my tiny little baby, and I can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of love.  I don’t know this person, have yet to meet them, and I already know that my love for them is insurmountable.  It feels as though these moments of joy are fleeting because shortly there after the gravity and the reality set in and I’m back to feeling fearful.  I pray that I am enough sweet baby.  I pray that I will somehow be enough to help you through this world and give you a wonderful and happy life. Lord please let me be enough.