The Intense Person

Whenever I would get dumped in the past, my girlfriends would console me by telling me that I am a “very intense person” who can sometimes be “too much for other people.” Although these words always came from a place of love, I would take it to mean that there was something wrong with me, that it was my own damn fault that I was cut loose. Was I too much? Was I not good enough?

Unfortunately, what I inferred was that if I wanted my heart to stop breaking over and over again, I had to stop caring so much, stop being so incredibly invested in everything. I needed to pretend to be more sophisticated and world-weary than I actually was. Because that’s how I was going to get over it, rise above it, become unconcerned and unaffected by it.

I tried this pose for some time, but it was too much work trying to appear detached and apathetic. And what’s the fucking point of it, really? What’s the point of imitating a rock? Of suppressing my most human impulses and desires to turn into a slab of ham? I ached for a wilder, more colourful life. So instead of trying to hide how deeply I cared, I tried to be open about it.

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I have been in a wonderful relationship these last couple of months. He is warm and funny and has shown me the joy of being completely open and vulnerable to another human being, and that it is precious to be someone with a boundless ability to care, to love, to feel, to create. And yet, it is hard.

There are moments I want to rip open my chest and hand him my heart. And then there are moments I am overcome by the urge to crush his skull against a wall. People tell me that this is normal, that it’s the ones dearest to us that show us our demons because they are able to press just the right buttons and bring to surface our unresolved issues. Love is a grand magnifier and the right relationship will encourage us to address our fears and insecurities head on and work on them.

In our earlier days together, whenever it felt as though the world was spinning off its axis, I would freak out and completely shut down. These days, I try to stay vulnerable to what’s happening because what I’m realizing is that whenever I feel like crushing his head against the wall, that’s me protecting myself from feeling how deeply I care about and depend on him. That’s just me realizing I’m way more invested than what I am usually comfortable with. Essentially, that’s me wanting to bash my own head against the wall, for exposing the tenderest parts of my soul and trusting someone enough that I could be destroyed by it.

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When we are young, it’s difficult to understand that caring too much is not a weakness, but a form of power. Sure, it means that sometimes we make mountains out of molehills. But it also means that we can feel big feelings, create works of art from thin air, and milk sublime moments out of the void. It is not a weakness, as much as it is not a problem, as long as we don’t turn it into a problem for other people.

We are all works-in-progress. After 24 trips around the sun, I finally recognize the merits of self-compassion but haven’t yet figured out how to be kind to myself on a day-to-day basis. As a start, I have banned myself from asking people, “Am I too much? Am I not good enough?” Over the years I have learnt not to present my anxiety and overactive brain as obvious liabilities. Even I am not allowed to ask myself such questions because I am only hurting myself when I do. As long as I was questioning my value, I was never going to be able to see the gifts that go along with being a very intense, anxious, emotional person.

Instead of asking questions, I decided to make statements. I tell myself that I am good and worthy. Even on my worst days, I am still good and worthy. I say it out loud, which I know sounds dorky. But dorkiness is emancipation.

People will love you, but no one will save you. Because nobody can save you from yourself. You have to save yourself. You have to decide that you are enough. You have to decide that sometimes you have more inside of yourself than you know what to do with. Seeking reassurance and approval is like begging for a fix. Don’t make it a habit. It’s lazy. It treats the symptoms but not the cause. Instead, learn to address and soothe feelings of self-doubt and distress on your own. Stop fighting yourself, day in and day out. It’s time to enjoy the way you are right now.

The Biggest Weirdo

This story about coming to terms with the fact that I am a dysfunctional moron who has been doing it all wrong is a clichéd narrative but a potent one. I’d fallen in love so many times that I was beginning to suspect that I was not falling in love at all, but doing something much more ordinary: falling. Just falling.

My epiphany relies on a logic so foreign, I still feel a little bit disoriented. Taking a deep dive into my shadow was no stroll in the park but seems to always unearth gold. It’s scary to think how little I understood about what drove my attachments and motivated my relationships prior to this. And even scarier to discover how much I’d underestimated the effect we can have on another human being.

The question of how and more importantly why there are such great discrepancies in the way we see, experience and respond to the world and each other continues to plague me. I’d always had a vague awareness that I was doing it a little funny – seeing things from a very skewed perspective, rushing through experiences without being fully present or engaged, and reacting in very bizarre and extreme ways.

In my quest for answers, I’ve turned to Math equations, theories on personality types, our own self-perception, and even ideas about reincarnation. My tired mind insists that it’s outlandish for a person to have his or her paradigm shaken and reframed twice daily, but it’s been said in the bible that there is no rest for the wicked so we trudged on. And slowly but surely, the pieces seem to be coming together.

In an effort to not be dramatic, I will be frank: Ainsworth and Bowlby’s Attachment Theory is a long but worthwhile read, particularly if you find yourself unable to connect with other human beings in a healthy and balanced way.

The longing for emotional connectedness is the most powerful drive in each and every one of us. It’s a survival drive, a primary instinct, and a basic human need. No man is an island and a stable, loving relationship is rumoured to be the absolute cornerstone of human happiness, personal fulfillment, and general well-being.

Our interaction with others is an intricate dance of connection and disconnection, wired in our brains to be recognized as safety and danger. Our brain interprets disconnection from those we depend on as a threat, and the ways in which we deal with these moments of distress are governed by our attachment style, which according to the theory is shaped by the bond we shared with our first caregiver.

Even though I’d been blessed with what could only be described as a blissful and easy childhood, I’ve still somehow managed to blossom into a full-fledged weirdo, prone – desperate, even – to forming fantasy bonds instead of developing truly intimate and trusting relationships.

Perhaps the endless teasing about being picked up from the dustbin or being called an ‘accident baby’ gave me the absurd idea of overcompensating as a means to prove my worth. Perhaps having been made the butt of one too many jokes laid the groundwork for a lifetime of idealizing others while belittling myself. What I’m learning is that my tendency to give too much of myself, which I’d always thought of as pretty darn noble, comes from a dark, dark place of unworthiness and a desire to please others for validation.

But wait, there’s more. Such as my need for constant touch and reassurance, my preoccupation with monitoring my partner’s emotions and jumping to catastrophic conclusions the moment I sense a change, my immense fear of losing the attention or affection of my partner, blah blah blah. I’m just a weirdo, basically.

N-E-way, I’m struggling to ignore my bleak reality now that it’s become apparent.

Some days I’m convinced that it’s too difficult, that I’m doomed to grow old with nine cats and then be buried with only forgetfulness when I die. But other days I feel inspired and determined to process and unlearn my fears – of being unworthy, of rejection, of abandonment – despite how deep they may seem to run. The more I grow, the smaller everything and everyone else seems.

The Teachers

I used to think the concepts of reincarnation and soul contracts were a load of horseshit, in so many words. But the more I reflect on everything and everyone I’ve encountered throughout my life, I can’t help but embrace the idea of past lives and sense of a higher purpose.

I’ve been tripping on stairs a lot lately, both figuratively and literally, and it very much feels like I’m just going in circles, as though life has got me chasing my own tail. So after a gentle nudging from my father who threw a chair across our living room as he shouted, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?” I’ve been thinking a lot about what the hell it is I’m doing – and what the hell it is I’m meant to be doing.

The eternal question springs up again: What is the purpose of life? I don’t know, but let’s assume (we’ll be asses together) that we are all here to learn. From my understanding, we each have one primary life lesson and several secondary life lessons. Thankfully, we don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what our deeply personal life lesson is. The universe has a pretty sick sense of humour and what I’ve observed is that whenever there’s something to be learnt, something that needs working on, the same situation will relentlessly present itself until I either learn my lesson or at least find a healthy way of dealing with the issue.

We seem to naturally attract and choose experiences that help us to grow. Truth: Our primary life lesson affects the events that show up during the course of our lifetime. The universe doesn’t ask us to head out in search of lessons. All it really asks of us is to tune out the white noise and be still, be alert, be open.

Borrowing the words of Chuck Palahniuk, “what we call chaos is just patterns we haven’t recognized. What we call random is just patterns we can’t decipher.” Paying heed to our feelings and trusting our intuition is essential to the process of identifying our patterns, which eventually lead us to our lessons. Whether it's a lesson in humility or a lesson in gratitude, it definitely helps to be aware of what our lesson is because it is only in knowing, can we consciously bring more of that energy into what we do and how we behave, which will subsequently make living our life easier.

Even though this goes against what I was brought up to believe, I think our soul decides which weakness it is ready to work on, which negative pattern it is ready to transform and then chooses the circumstances to be born into in order to learn that. And before we incarnate, we make agreements with other souls to meet in this lifetime to help and support each other on our journey.

“Cya at Nando's for dinner tonight,” said his soul to mine. Whether it’s pure luck or mere coincidence – or in recent times, good ol’ Internet algorithms – that brings you to me/me to you, I’ve likened this phenomenon to the ancient saying that goes ‘when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.’

Sometimes people are sent into our life to help us manifest our own intentions, bringing with them information, resources, and support. Or to simply be a match for our intentions themselves, which inspires and influences us, provides us an example and role model to follow, ultimately revealing another layer of ourselves to us, helping us to grow.

Other times our paths cross because we have unfinished business with each other to tend to. Upon first meeting, the person will seem familiar, as though we’ve known them all our life – chances are we have known them all our life, in a previous life. These karmic relationships are usually fraught with complexities because of the baggage we carry, and often push us through what we previously perceived to be our limits. They test our extremes so we are compelled to search for our true meaning and purpose.

It could be about healing past issues and then building something in this present lifetime together, or about healing and then moving on and finally letting this person go. But once we complete our cycle of karmic connections, we stop attracting repetitive lessons and gain an awareness and a profound sense of what it is we want and need in our life.

The thing about soul contracts is that they are neither our destiny nor our fate. They are simply our past being presented to us over and over again until we learn what it is that we need to learn and are willing to make the right decisions for a balanced, healthy and meaningful future.

2016 was going to be the year I finally erected that wall around myself, which I’ve witnessed so many others put up in the name of self-preservation. This was going to be the year I knew better. But as luck would have it, just as it was decided that those foolish days of letting people in heedlessly – without hesitation, without question, without defenses – were over, my paths crossed with a man who’d gone through his life keeping all but a couple of people at arm’s length. And almost at once I knew that I wasn’t going to be breaking any patterns or learning any lessons by shrinking my heart two sizes smaller.

Still, I found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. As it happens, it’s nearly impossible to have a worthwhile relationship with someone who guards his or her heart like the gold in Fort Knox and puts you down in subtle, creepy ways. And perhaps the worst thing about it is honestly believing that you can change them.

So this is my pattern – running into unavailable people. Since we’re working on the presumption that people are our mirrors, wherein what we see in others is a reflection of ourselves, that could only mean one thing. Yup, you guessed it.

There’s been a remarkable amount of self-awareness on display over the last couple of months, especially so from two seemingly unavailable people. But it occurred to us that if we had any kind of shot of making this a purposeful endeavor, we really had to confront our issues.

Watching each other unpack these little tidbits of truth about ourselves has been pretty real. What initially began as an intimate and possibly lustful union has now evolved into a rollercoaster ride with confusion, twists, resentment, frustration, running, hiding, chasing, bewilderment, intensity, contradiction, and depth. But also a promise of healing for us both if we are willing to stay the course and see this through.

Not every one of our close encounters with people will end in happily ever after, and that's ok. Some relationships are just crucial stepping-stones to reach the next stage. But what makes them just as important and worthy of our time, attention, love, and respect is simply the willingness to ask hard questions, to sift through harder answers, to have long conversations, to accept not always knowing the answers, and to ensure that our intentions, actions, emotions are aligned.

At the end of the day, no one really knows why anybody is here anyway. But still, no one belongs here more than you.