Day 20: Describe your most difficult breakup and what you learned from it.
After reading the lovely writer of I Ride The Waves and her post for today’s challenge, I knew this was going to be a toughie. I even told her that there was a lot of conviction in me after reading it. So here it goes.
I’ve had two relationships in my life. One I don’t really consider a “relationship” because it literally lasted two weeks. The other lasted for about 4 months and then shortly after I did the whole promiscuity thing. Neither of them were tough break ups because I was the one that ended them. Boyfriend #1 irritated me with his annoyance of my going to church and my holding on to purity. I didn’t like someone like him saying that I was going to be something that I wasn’t or that I go to church too much. Even if I wasn’t living out the faith that I so called believed, it bothered me to no end that he felt the need to give that kind of opinion. So I dropped him. Boyfriend #2 was actually a sweetheart. Nothing was wrong with him. But I broke up with him and gave him the excuse that he didn’t talk enough. Till this day I don’t know why I did that, but oh well.
Ever since then, I held onto this image of what my future spouse was going to be like. I made a list of all the physical features that I swoon over on every celebrity and all the characteristics that would make me love him. I had this list written down and was constantly adding things to it. I prayed to God that this dream boat would come and that we would be married for as long he allowed us to be. I held on to this image of an invisible man only to come across decent guys that didn’t qualify. Growing up in Winder, I was not very liked by people of the same race as me so this dream guy couldn’t be black. I wanted a godly man even though when I wrote this list down, I wasn’t living a very godly life. In short, I formed my own Ken and expected him to arrive on a horse in shining army, coming to sweep me away from some dreadful place. Ken was my idol, Ken was my relationship for many years. I was practically married to the idea of Ken and wouldn’t let go of him. But after a gut twisting sermon from Pastor David Stephens, my relationship with Ken came to an end. David said how we as a young adult generation have a habit of creating this image of the perfect spouse and how some things like our desire for a particular skin color maybe be something that can push away the hand picked person that God has for us. I’ll admit that I joined the chorus of groans of my fellow ladies in the sanctuary and felt a huge wave of conviction. My rejection from a particular whole race in high school had, for many years, held me back from even allowing a man to like me. “Oh you’re black? Sorry, I don’t cheer for that team”.
I left service that night, took the back roads home and released my marriage to Ken, divorced him and allowed God to give me a new image of someone better than Ken. Someone who had flesh and yes, even flaws. Strangely this break-up was easier than I thought it was, but I didn’t know that I was married to someone else.
My insecurities and fears. I’m not quite sure if you guys understand what stronghold they have on me or how tight I hold on to them. I can’t move, breath or think without feeling like there is something wrong with me. Although I’ve adapted to the idea that I haven’t the slightest inkling of who this man that God has handpicked for me, I feel utterly unworthy of him already. I’ve bought into this thinking that there are too many flaws on me as a person; that no man would be okay with me as a whole. In the presence of an attractive man, my insecurities rise to the surface like new acne that I can’t seem to get rid of. I crawl into myself and drown in my tidal wave of insecurities and inadequacies because I’ve bought into this lie that although I know what I would want for myself, I just flat out don’t deserve him. I’m not attractive enough, I’m not smart enough, I’m not spiritual enough. I can’t make eye contact because I’m so nervous that everything in me will be exposed and he’ll turn his nose up at me and see how worthless I am.
When I feel unworthiness, I do my best to push whoever away and help them see it, because I don’t like me and you shouldn’t either. You can list all of the great qualities that you think you see in me and I may nod and “agree” with you, but on the inside, I’m rejecting it.
It’s so easy for me to speak life into someone else, to pour out scripture and tell them that they are going to be a good gift to someone, somewhere, someday. But I don’t believe those words for myself.
Do I want to divorce the Negative Nancy in me? I would love to. But I’m holding onto her like a death grip and she’s holding onto me. In my head, I make my own net worth and it’s lower than the real thing. My net worth died on a cross for me when I didn’t deserve it. I want nothing more than to divorce Nancy and accept my Boaz or my Abraham or my David or maybe all 3 in 1. But most importantly, I want to simply swim in the tranquil flow of God’s admiration of me, not losing my balance in the waves of inadequacies.
But my insecurities are a false safety
This is going to be the hardest break-up of all.