Heartbreak isn’t irreparable. The human mind/body has an amazing ability to self-heal. And when life lends itself to U-turns, even the most egregious offenses can be forgiven, mended and rebuilt more fortified than before. But while the heart (the proverbial collection of emotions–not the organ in this case) can survive a crash ‘n burn, there is one Achilles-heel of our humanity that is much more fragile and susceptible to permanent harm. Confidence is the protective shield that envelops the soul. When it is shattered, the countless shards of glass are sharp to the touch. It scratches, scathes and even cuts into immunity. We’re left vulnerable or defenseless–shells of our former selves. Caution tape will collect dust during the attempt(s) to reconstruct. People who experience this are rarely reclaim the person they once knew.
Confidence is the foundation of all that we individually are. It is required of our every independent act post-birth. And it is the distinguishing factor or “measure of a (wo)man” that is both undeniably conspicuous and indescribably intangible. Confidence is the “IT” factor. But the great kryptonite of confidence, reality, is equally omnipresent–and equally powerful. Reality is the “but” that butts its way into our lives by disguising itself as LIFE. It’s the reason why most of us aren’t where we should be, and none of us are where we could be. And by now you’re prob’ly thinkin’, “DAMN. He’s so deep (iPun), mysterious and cryptic…it’s kind of sexy. But what’n the hell does this have to do with relationships, LOVE or sex even!?” Nothing. Except everything.
See not only is the war between confidence and reality the sum of who we are, it’s also equates to where we are. We keep ourselves from being our better selves by siding with reality. We ruin our “all is well” relationships by either neglect or lack of confidence to do the right thing(s). The saying, “I’m my own worst enemy…” is pure, unadulterated TRUTH. And the proof stares us down in the mirror, laughing at our expense. We limit our happiness by limiting who/what/when/where/why/how we allow to ourselves to be made happy. Some people will read into this and presumptuously accuse me of subliminal polyamory peddling. I’m not–not exactly. But what I am unapologetically saying is that we generally put more attention into possessing a partner rather understanding them; we are selfish in the expectation that our partners should have limited sources or fulfillment (and self-defeating when we make the same sacrifice). It’s not that adding partners will resolve the problem, it’s that our attitudes about relationship conduct creates the problem in the first place.
If you accounted the days of your life that were spent less-than contented it would be shock therapy of the best kind. Think about the all of times you put someone off, not because you lacked interest, desire or time but simply because you lacked the confidence to say, “Yes!” to yourself. These moments are the missing pieces to the puzzle of our happiness. Boys are taught to chase. Girls are taught to run. But that game isn’t fun for long. Why not “get caught,” and caught-up, and enjoy the ride for a change!? Start finding those pieces–and letting them find you–and finding yourself in the process. I don’t want to miss out on another smile, laugh, kiss, touch, taste, mind-numbing orgasm or mood altering presence in my life. And if reality wants to rob me of that, I’m damn sure not going to make it easy. Tradition, convention and perception are unnecessary hindrances. When they’re cleared from our path, the days get easier. Peace…by piece.