I bought a book when I was in my 5 hours transit between Beijing and Jakarta in Kuala Lumpur before. I don’t really want to mention the title since it’s one of my shame books :p. Anyway, I’ve been dealing with a similar situation with what this book mentioned, which I didn’t really expect this book would talk about it since the title is kinda far away from that topic. But in its chapter 8, I found some pages that slap me pretty hard. It sounds like this:
“… Nevertheless, sometimes it just doesn’t work out.
No matter how good you may be at absorbing and applying these principles, no matter how high value you are, how good you are at conveying it to guys, how faithful you are in applying rule of reciprocity, or in making sure you and your guy share the same values and the same priorities for these values, you will never be immune to heartbreak. … It’s important to accept that, in love, there is still no guarantee. It’s part of human condition, part of the mystery of love.
You may do absolutely everything right, and still get hurt or be disappointed.
We have no control if our partner decides to up and leave. We have no control if he decides to be unfaithful. Sometimes you’ll be the one who falls out of love, or who realizes that this person just isn’t right for you. Most of us understand that all we can control is our own actions; we can only influence the actions and behaviours of someone else. Then there’s our own unruly heart, causing trouble. Just because you’re the one to end it, that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t broken.
Some of us, because of our past, might be so afraid of getting burned again by love, and refuse to put ourself in a situation where we can truly experience that feeling of surrender that’s part of falling in love. It’s one tactic, certainly, but isn’t it better to risk hurt than to allow fear to rule our love lives?
If we want the chance to feel the joy of love, we are going to risk feeling more pain than we’ve ever felt before. When a relationship ends, the pain we experience can take months, even years, to become bearable. Feeling such pain at the loss of a partner is a natural, perhaps even a good thing; it assures us that the relationship was meaningful, and that we’re able to commit to another person at the deepest level. The truth is, we are never ready to be hurt, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take the risk. First you do the thing you’re scared of, then you get the courage.
… because we feel we’ve already lost The One. Nothing else seems to matter. We lose our drive, our ambition and our ability to take even baby steps forward.
But there’s another way to look at it. Consider this: the pain doesn’t come from losing your soulmate, but from disappointment that this guy wasn’t your soulmate. It’s sad, but it’s not catastrophic. And if you look at it this way – that in some regard he failed to live up ti your values and standards, so how could he have been your soulmate? – the pain is likely to be less severe. … We can now say more easily, ‘Although I’m hurt right now, this person wasn’t right for me. Now i can allow myself to find the right person.’
This might sound like a small difference, but just allowing ourselves to take on this more correct understanding of what has happened can free us to move forward. And remember, none of your efforts will have been in vain. We are always learning more about ourself and our relationship with others. Every experience adds richness to our character, which in turn informs the depth of connection we can make in the future.”
I don’t really want to elaborate about what I’ve been dealing with lately, but the writer definitely has a great point, and this becomes one of those moments when I slowly change my perspective on my current situation. I, for sure, don’t know what the future brings, but I should keep pushing myself to keep believing, being the same person to who I was, and don’t give the one who did miserable things to me – power to change me to be like him.