Fear of Love

I went to Linda’s this morning and she said something that has resonated on a deep level and drove me down into a spiral of deep thinking. She said that she wondered if her brother, Michael was scared of love, or scared to love, I forget which now. I said I understood as I’d been there and I talked about the writing I did in January of 2012 about never having experienced love. When I came home I sent it to her but then I thought about it further and I wondered if I was wrong in my assumptions, again!

Maybe Michael has a genuine fear of love not a fear of what ‘love’ has been for him so far, because isn’t love something that I have feared in the past too?

For me the fear always looked like this:  it’s the fear of letting someone in, of having to change my life to accommodate theirs. To get used to someone else’s quirks. It’s the fear of opening my arms wide, of cracking open the heart that I’ve shielded behind bars for a long time, it’s the feeling, the physical sensation of my heart being open. It makes me feel naked and vulnerable. It feels empty, ready to be filled, risking that it won’t be. It’s the fear of bursting; of actually feeling as though I will burst with love. It’s the power of love which is scary. It’s confronting the belief I’ve held for so long that I don’t deserve this, that I’m not worthy enough. It’s opening up to the realisation that I am worth all of this goodness. It’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever experienced or been able to imagine and it will take over every aspect of my being. It’s about being out of control, taking risks. It’s the butterflies in the tummy that dance around of their own free will and the smiles that I find on my face when I least expect it. It’s the way my body chills with goosebumps. It’s about not having control of any part of who I am because love is so huge it will take control and become the puppeteer holding the strings that I thought were all mine. It’s free falling. It’s vast. It’s all encompassing. It’s everything I fear I’m not but deep down know that I am. It’s a meeting of the self while being more distant from the person I always thought I was. It’s life changing and it will shape me, for better or for worse.

Love for me is about letting go of the image I’ve held of who I am for so long and actually discovering the truth. It’s about putting an end to being strong all of the time and allowing someone else to hold me in every sense and yet still retaining my identity. It’s about loss. It’s about being prepared to let go of everything that’s ever kept me within my comfort zones and jumping with no idea where it will take me.

Ultimately I can’t take the fear of getting hurt out of the equation because they go hand in hand but love’s hand is stronger than hurt’s and that is the real fear of love. That it will eradicate all my old beliefs and what’s kept me safe for so long; safe yet dull. Love is the explosion of colour to a black and white world. It’s unknown; the depths of it are unknown. The fear of love is not a fear of love. The fear of love is the fear of having to let go of all the bullshit and lies I’ve told myself over the years and actually starting to believe that I am amazing, that I am valuable and that I am a creation of love. I am love. It’s the actual death of the ego, it’s the ultimate in living a life of soul.

The fear is nothing more than my ego battling for supremacy but for the first time in a very long time I feel ready for it. I feel excited about the prospect of it coming into my life again one day. My ego’s voice is becoming a whisper where once it was a bellow, and my fears are transmuting into an openness and a willingness to meet love. Not the ego based love I’ve known before but a real, soul love. I feel ready to give and ready to receive and I’ve been able to see this in the dreams I’ve been having recently.

Dreams of Greg and of his family. I pondered and thought deeply about the meaning for days but yesterday I realised that what Greg represents is family. A real, loving caring unit, of a man and a woman, equal in all ways working together as a team for their family and for each other. I haven’t experienced that since the day I left him and I now believe my dreams are showing me that I’m ready to have that again.

I’m ready to share in a way I haven’t been ready or able to share before; sharing not because I want something in return but because what is the point in this life if we don’t share who we are with someone special? What’s the point in anything if not to share?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s