No More Fighting

"You don't have to fight anymore." This is what I heard this morning as I took the decorations off the Christmas tree in my bedroom, which had been given to me by many who love me. The love they give me is something I crave, fear, and fight to keep from losing. This is the fighting I no longer need to do.

Dad and I are alike in many ways, good and bad. We have an unusual sense of humor, a deep loyalty to friends and family, a need for a regimented, disciplined life, and a very tender heart. It is this last commonality that makes us fighters. 

I do not know a lot about my dad's childhood, but I know that he was hurt deeply by his Father. Deeply enough that he kept me away from him. I believe that this created a deep distrust of others in his heart. I know from his words that he never wanted me to feel the way about him that he felt about his dad. Unfortunately, we often become precisely what we hate in those who have the most significant influence over us when the wounds they have caused are not addressed. This is true for my dad as it is for many others. 

12 years older is an age that has been stuck in my mind as the age I stopped growing at for some reason. I am not completely clear on what happened, but I know I felt my dad cut me off emotionally at this age as he did everyone else around him. The reason is unclear, but the fact remains that I was blindsided by this. We were so close before this. I have pictures that show me how close we were. In a short period, that closeness was replaced by a cold, hard relationship. It killed me in many ways. I didn't know what to do, so I subconsciously decided that I had done something to chase him off and that I would fight to keep anyone else that I felt connected to close to me. For me, this meant being number one. The most important. The center of the lives of those who loved me. This fight I embarked on would ultimately bear no fruit and would chase away many people I wanted to keep close to. 

Fighting in this way requires hypervigilance. Always watching out for anyone or anything that might take my place in the hearts of those who loved me. This breeds jealousy, fear, and paranoia. It wears me down. It makes me difficult to live with and get close to. So, my solution has been to keep everyone at arm's length. Let people get close but not too close. Not as close as I was to my dad. I just can't take the risk of experiencing that kind of pain again, so I isolate, which causes more pain. So I shop, and eat, and drink. And I am never satisfied. Then, I met my brothers and sisters in the Courage apostolate, and things started to change. 

God allows us to heal slowly with the ultimate goal of that healing so that we are able to embrace Him again. This is where He has brought me through my friendships with men to the place where I am ready, despite my fear, to draw close to my Heavenly Father. 

I don't want to fight for love anymore, I don't want to fear not being good enough to be loved, and I don't want to be on the lookout all the time. I'm tired. God has lovingly allowed this self-protection to run its course so that I  would choose Him. Come to Him because I want Him, not only out of need. 

So today, I feel a bit more at ease knowing that I can stop fighting, though I know it will be a difficult habit to break. With His love accepted into my heart, anything is possible. Thanks be to God!!!

Written 1/1/21 AD

Image from harutmovsisyan at Pixaby