Day 22: Pride

Pride: A feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements.

Here I was, walking through crowds of people who were “proud”, but all I could think to myself was “were they?”

I thought that maybe going to a pride parade would relieve me of some of the resentment I’d felt from my last relationship.

That, perhaps it would give me some feeling of relief, a freedom from the mental prison i’d come to call my home.

Instead, I realized I hadn’t just locked away my sexuality..but so much more of myself than that.

As I stood there among the crowds, I found myself filled with a strong urge to go home.

I thought about all of the things I hadn’t yet accomplished, and how badly I wanted to feel “proud” to be standing there.

But, I didn’t want to just be proud of my sexuality-I wanted to be proud of my own achievements.

I no longer wanted my “success” to be tied to another individual, and especially not to a codependent relationship.

I see it now.

No more of someone else’s success being enough for me, of putting aside my needs, wants, and goals.

More of taking care of myself, of treating myself the way I have treated those I love.

Thoughtful moments, being considerate of what’s good for me, creating a schedule that makes me happy, supporting myself in the things that make me happy, pushing myself in reaching goals, and finally “momming” myself.

I realized that if I had the ability to support someone else’s dreams-that it didn’t just make “great partner material” but that this made me “even better individual material” too.

That my “compromise” was really just sacrifice-and the person i was cheating was myself.

Want to spend a weekend with me? I can move my schedule.

Need breakfast? I’ll get up early to make it.

You’re not comfortable with being open about your sexuality at work? I understand, and respect you, let’s figure this out.

You’re busy at work, and haven’t had a chance to eat? I’ve got your back.

The more I put into another individual, the worse my balance of boundaries became-and soon enough I couldn’t see where compromise and ended and my boundaries started.

Over time, I found myself noticing how far my partner would be getting-and how far behind I was falling.

I wanted to be happy for them-and a part of me was. A part of me would say, “I’m so proud of them-and I’ve been there every step of the way.

I’ve been a supportive partner, i’ve done the most, and it’ll eventually all balance out-eventually my time will come.”

I would tell myself that sometimes one partner in the equation needed a little bit more from time to time, and that’s where compromise came into play.

Sometimes our partners suffer mentally, sometimes they need support in one area-to be able to take care of another, and that’s okay.

I focused so much on the “us” or the “her”, that I never actually grabbed ahold of the idea of “me”.

There are a variety of names or things that can be given for this, and possibly even some negative comments touting that I’m codependent, that I’m not capable, or that partner and I were on “different levels” and that I was just never good enough to be with her in the first place.

People are mean.

But, something I’ve realized is that when people are mean or hateful, there’s usually more to that-and it usually has nothing to do with the person they’re being hateful towards.

Lucky for me-the hardest critic here is the person writing this, and even more lucky..I’ve started to care a lot less what others think.

I think that might be part of the start of “me”, and the end of “her”.

Happy Pride, in every way.