I say 'potentially' because I don't know how long it's gonna take to write this.
Warning: this post contains existential ramblings and probably sappy discussions of my relationship.
Because I thought about going small and snarky with this topic and talk about how I've started eating onions or something, but then I figured go big or go home, yeah?
So, I have a tendency toward self-sufficiency that exists for reasons I won't get into today. But because of it, I have long held the belief that stressful or unpleasant things that happen to me in my life need to be dealt with alone. My successes and good times, I am happy to share. But the others are mine, and other people in my life don't need to be bothered by them. My problems and issues are things I should be able to deal with on my own. Needing to ask for help is . . . a sign of failure.
Rational? No, not really. And intellectually, I know that. But the fact remains that opening up about the things closest to my heart was not something I did three years ago, really to anyone. Don't get me wrong -- I opened up to you guys a lot more than I did to most people. But I think it was occasionally frustrating for some of you that I never seemed to share a lot about what I was thinking or feeling or what have you. And it was never because I didn't trust you or want you to know something. It was just because I didn't share that stuff. With anyone, best friends included.
And then I started dating Chase. And I thought I could get away with doing the same thing with him. But here's the thing -- when someone becomes that constant a part of your life, they get to know you, all those parts of you, whether you intended for it to happen or not. And let me tell you -- it is very disconcerting to be called out on behavior that I didn't think anyone noticed I was doing. I've gotten very good in my lifetime at hiding when things bother me. But it has been a long time since I've been able to pull it over on Chase.
Letting someone else into my life like that was a big deal for me. And the act of doing so has largely contributed to the way in which I am "me" in a different way than I was when we all lived down the hall. Back then, I was all, "I'm not gonna change for anyone!" And then I learned that that's not the way relationships worked. I haven't changed because I was asked to; I've changed because that's an inevitable part of what happens when you rework your life to include another person. If you aren't willing to let someone in, to share your bad times as well as your good, to give up that need for self-sufficiency, then it isn't going to work. Slowly, so slowly, I'm learning that.
Also, I eat onions now. Sometimes.