Part 2 of “Friendship. Divine Love and Lessons Learned.”

It’s amazing what our minds and bodies do to protect us from harm. If you’ve ever been in an accident–minor or major, then you know that when it occurs, our bodies jerk into protection-mode. It’s not until the next day or days after that we realize we’ve been through an event.

That’s what happened to me regarding my last post. When I wrote it, I was still in shock and able to clearly articulate what happened and how I was feeling at the time. Days later, it seemed the reality of it slapped me in the face. I’m telling you this because I want to be transparent about my journey. I don’t want you to think I’ve got it all figured because I don’t. And I also don’t want you to think that spiritual growth is easy because it definitely is not–which is why most people don’t do it and I don’t blame them.

After I posted what happened between my friend and I, I began to feel a lump of dread in my chest. No matter how much I slept or journaled, it wouldn’t disappear. Moreover, as the days wore on, I began to feel sad and depressed. I knew it had something to do with what transpired but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what, especially since I had wrapped up my thoughts and feelings so nicely in my last post. Clearly I was fine–right?

Wrong. Something was very wrong.

Clarity about the situation came in waves–the first being the realization that I wasn’t a victim. Yes, rejecting me even though I didn’t make an offer was insensitive, but he did it for a reason and I needed to understand why. His honesty served as a growth trigger that led me to examine my own behavior and hidden motives I held within my subconscious. Unpacking that box and being honest with myself made it all abundantly clear. The truth was, I loved him from a wounded place. I was afraid I was unlovable; I hated being single and I was desperately afraid I’d never find my person. While my platonic love was real, those wounds and hidden motives of not wanting to be alone caused it to be tainted. 

I just got a relatively large tattoo. My artist covered it with this bandage called second skin to help expedite the healing process. After six days, I began to smell something a little off with my tatt. I thought it was my shirt but after I showered and changed shirts it was still there. That’s when I chose to peel off the second skin to clean my tattoo, which was basically a wound. After, I never smelled the weird smell again. That’s how I’d describe my love for him–something was a little off in my healing that caused a weird smell or behaviors. It wasn’t until I peeled back what was going on with me that I realized my wounds needed cleaning and air so they could finish the healing process.

I was so ashamed of what I did–unconscious or not. When I peeled back my friendship and care, underneath was a wounded inner child desperate to be chosen. Even though neither of us could see her, she was there, impacting our friendship. As I sat with that understanding, I cried. I cried for her, for the guilt and shame I felt–for it all. Then I did the difficult thing and offered myself some grace and compassion. I had to release the guilt because I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I was sad but I was also gentle with myself–something that was new for me. 

Here’s an excerpt from my journal entry about my moment of awareness:

Truth is. The situation was way more complex and layered. Multiple things were going on at the same time. Different things were being worked on. I’m through it and now wondering was it worth it. Only because all I feel is loss. Loss of my warm, delusional bubble that kept me buzzing around someone, desperate for their attention, convincing myself that I was being the bigger person. When in fact, I wasn’t seeing clearly. And sometimes, friends, we just don’t see shit clearly. We see through the lens of our wounding–where we are in that moment. It’s funny how we can miss something that wasn’t serving us.

It’s not until true clarity comes that we’re shocked silent by the harshness of the light.

Then we’re asked to offer ourselves some compassion because in the end, we didn’t see. How can we blame ourselves when we didn’t see the truth? How can we blame the wounded version of ourselves that made decisions based on their hurt? We can’t. We have to accept all of ourselves and love us through the pain, shame and disappointment.

The next difficult thing I did was email my friend, explaining that I was happy he said something; that clearly I was unaware of what was going on underneath and that deep down I wanted my person, the one I could be my warm, loving self with and that I needed some time away from our friendship to clear what was going on with me. I needed–need time to sort myself out. To continue healing and nurturing myself and to decide whether I can have a platonic friend of the opposite sex at this point in my life. I didn’t want to walk away from him but I couldn’t stay. The truth was–is I want my person and perhaps a platonic friendship isn’t serving me right now; it’s too close to what I want but not quite enough. And I don’t want to settle for not enough.

To be honest, walking away from him was harder than breaking up with my ex. At least I had him to talk to and hang out with–a placeholder for the real thing. Without him I’d be alone…again. But friends, that’s when the awareness of self-worth finally dawned on me. I didn’t want the energy of just enough in my life. I was–am worth more than that. Through the pain, I chose myself. I chose what served my highest good because I was worthy of it. 

As soon as I emailed him my realization, the lump of dread in my chest disappeared. My wounds were cleaned and I was healed. I felt like I closed the door to a long, difficult past and am now standing in front of a bright, sprawling future. I don’t know where I’m headed but I do know that I have healing, wisdom and love with me wherever I go.

I was hesitant to continue this story, sharing all of my experience because I didn’t want you, dear reader, to think that this walk of spiritual growth is impossible. It’s not. It may be difficult at times and fraught with pain but the freedom of healing is worth it. At least to me. If you have the opportunity to expand, to grow and heal, I encourage you to take it. Trust me, Source and its Divine Love will support you every step of the way.

I love you so very much.

Thank you for reading,

Chantell Monique

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