Finding My Humanity
I’m bold now. I’ve always believed that fortune favors the bold, but until recently, I’d been so risk-averse that it was making me depressed. No bold to be found. I know what you’re thinking: How can not taking risks make you depressed? It’s a good question, and one I’ve spent so much time pondering. Here’s what I’ve come up with: I have a picture of the life I want, the life I know I’m worthy of. There’s always a partner there- I’m a lover girl, and I want to find my person. For years, I visualized this life in partnership with a man, but I constantly sacrificed the parts of myself that needed to shine just to cater to his desires over my own.
I thought I had to force him to fit into my vision. But my vision could never work with the men I’ve chosen. It's cliché, but it takes two to tango. If the person I choose has no interest in building anything, I can’t even begin to lay the foundation for the life I deserve.
And if there’s no foundation, how can I expect to build on air? I was begging God for a miracle- one that wasn't mine to receive. That was what was making me depressed.
I thought I had it all, but in reality, I was living the dark side of the American dream. Sure, we had the dogs, the cool city, the cushy tech jobs, and a welcoming community. But behind closed doors, all I had was hell.
The man I chose had no idea how to choose me back, and I fell victim to the sunk cost fallacy. Looking back, I’m not even sure I liked him. I liked what his presence represented in my dream life. By the time I realized he wasn't the one, I was already committed to making it work because I’d invested so much time into the relationship.
The decline was slow, which made it all the more confusing. At first, the love felt reciprocal. He enjoyed my company, we laughed as much as we bickered, life was fun, and he yearned for me in ways that gave me butterflies.
I don't know exactly when he stopped choosing me, but as he disconnected emotionally, he became increasingly abusive. Empathy turned into apathy, leaving a thousand tiny cuts that still feel bloody and raw. I went from a queen he worshipped to a ghost haunting him in his own home. The dehumanization was gradual, but when I finally decided to leave, I realized I was no longer being treated like a human being.
That stings. Being dehumanized by someone you love alters your mind in ways I can hardly express. I am a human being. I feel things deeply, but the most painful part of my life has been watching my own existence be stripped of its humanity, and knowing I allowed it to happen.
I spent 29 years avoiding risk, trying to build a strong foundation with someone who had no foundation of his own.
Through healing, I realized that building a strong foundation was always my responsibility. The right partner will have built his own, and together, we can construct something truly enduring.
To build that foundation, you have to be bold and take risks. Failure is always a possibility in high-risk situations, but even in failure, there is a lesson life teaches you. That’s where I am now.
It’s a lonely place, but it’s far more fulfilling than a life with no foundation at all.
I was dehumanized once, but I’m learning how to be human all over again- and that has been a beautiful thing.
MEW
