Notes from a Singleton

(Previous notes from a singleton can be found here #1, #2)

Dear Attached Hope,

I’m writing this to you imagining that in some indeterminate point in the future you are in a loving, committed, healthy relationship with a loving, affectionate, sane man.

If you are, congratulations. You have wanted this for so long and I’m thrilled for you. In fact, my heart just hurt a little by the sheer possibility that you are there right now. In some kind of parallel universe to my own. I imagine that you’re sitting, perhaps its next to a fire place, and you’re reading this and you’re looking up and there he is. You’re smiling at him simply because he’s there and its him and you found him and because you’re smiling he is coming over and he is giving you a peck on the lips and because you’re unaccustomed to affection for no reason, for no express purpose you are looking up at him quizzically and he is saying, ‘I just like it when you’re happy.”

If you’re there and if this is happening, Hope, then I want to remind you of something. There was this day–August 18, 2009–where you were dumped in such a way that you believed that you would never, ever, ever find anyone that could care for you. You believed that you would always find men that saw you as a flawed woman whose sole purpose was to make their life difficult. You believed, on that day,� that you were a irrevocably flawed woman and that your flaws would always stop men from giving you a chance. Because these flaws, these flaws kill the attraction. Kill the chemistry and you believed that you just can’t ever come back from that.

As you’re reading this now, I want you to remember that feeling. Feel it, taste it, smell it. Can you feel the pain in your chest? Can you feel the heaviness in your body? The resignation? The sadness? The anger that despite all your hard work at improving your flaws they still get in the way of making meaningful connections? Do you remember all of that? I’m sure you do because you have a tendency to hold on to all those negative beliefs and experiences for as long as is humanely possible. But you may be living in your happy bubble right now believing that this relationship has changed you. So, I want you to remember that day. Remember those thoughts. Feel them. Are you there, in that moment where another man left you? Are you there, in that moment where you felt that your world had come to end? That it was all pointless?

Good.

Now I want you to release it.

Because deep down, I don’t care who this new man is. The one that is standing there, giving you the kisses that you need, whispering sweet nothings on the top of your damp hair. I mean obviously� I care. But I don’t care care. I’m digressing. Hope, my point is that it doesn’t matter what this man thinks of you. (Although, he better think you’re the bees knees) The only thing that matters is what you believe about yourself. Don’t base your value and your worth and your self-esteem on the latest man’s opinion of you. No matter how much you love and respect and value him. All relationships will end. You, however, will go on alone.

So, I want you to remember (and can you–from the future–remind me the same thing from time to time) that you are a beautiful, vulnerable, strong, compassionate, witty, smart, thoughtful, talented, headstrong, emotional, sensual and kind woman who loves fiercely but lives quietly.

You are all those things; with or without a man. You are always all those things. That’s a constant. And that should comfort you.

I love you

Your alter ego

(dumped and still) Single Hope

15 Responses to Notes from a Singleton

reederscorner | August 19, 2009 at 1:52 pm | Reply

That’s a great letter – it should be posted on your fridge or somewhere around your house so you see it all the time!
Lpeg | August 19, 2009 at 3:38 pm | Reply

I love this letter. And I’m sorry you’re hurting right now. Just know we all love you, too :)
Princess of the Universe | August 19, 2009 at 4:38 pm | Reply

I’m so sorry honey- I’m glad that you were able to write this letter to yourself so soon after this disappointment.
xo
bevchen | August 19, 2009 at 6:09 pm | Reply

You should print this out and stick it somehwere where you can see it every morning. So inspiring :-)
Dark Cloud Nine | August 19, 2009 at 6:26 pm | Reply

Except that I would not have done it so eloquently at all, I could have written and received such a letter myself. I thought my pathological anxiety was the biggest turn-off of all times. Enough people had told me. But I am here and there is somewhere a man who loves me with that flaw (and of course, fighting that flaw). Sometimes I re-live the intensity of my past, sometimes it’s better.

And I know how right you are about knowing your own value… but I guess, as far as I am concerned, self-value came from believing the (positive) feedback I got from friends and SOME lovers, and made up for one I probably could have received as a child. I don’t know if you are the same… but if you are, I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing.
courtneyhope | August 19, 2009 at 7:34 pm | Reply

“…a kind woman that loves fiercely and lives quietly.”

I love that… I wonder how many of us could be described so aptly. I know we just “met”, but I DEFINITELY think you’re the bee’s knees… and I think the fact that you can so precisely know how your feeling in this season of things is a pretty good place to start. I feel ya on so many levels… being left behind is such a bad feeling. Having someone choose other things over you is a truly awful feeling… but knowing you’re going to still be with and like yourself in the end is the truest of feelings. And, well, I think you’re going to make it.

Thanks for sharing!
Erin | August 19, 2009 at 8:11 pm | Reply

I’m in a rather weird headspace right now, but what popped into my head while I was reading this was some Gloria Gaynor.

It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart,
And I spent oh so many nights
Just feeling sorry for myself. I used to cry
But now I hold my head up high
And you see me, somebody new
I’m not that chained up little person still in love with you,
And so you feel like dropping in
And just expect me to be free,
Now I’m saving all my lovin’ for someone who’s lovin’ me
Go on now go…

Sing it, internet sisters!

Hang in there Hope!
Adorably Bitter | August 19, 2009 at 9:18 pm | Reply

Dear Hope,
I know it won’t be much of help right now, but indeed, the pain will pass. And you’ll realise how many things you’ve figured out for yourself during that hurt. But do take care of yourself until then!
ruby | August 19, 2009 at 11:26 pm | Reply

You are an amazing woman, Hope. This letter is absolutely wonderful, and conveniently for me, exactly what I needed to hear/read right now. Thank you.
06mickey | August 20, 2009 at 2:50 pm | Reply

First, I’m so sorry, again
I love the letter despite the sadness and familiarity of it all.
I think I’ll do one for myself or just steal yours and post it on my fridge to get me through those dark days…ha!
Anyway I loved it.
Hang in there gal!
06mickey | August 21, 2009 at 11:38 am | Reply

Hi Hope!
Me again.
Please read this. its a lil harsh but i hope it’ll help you the way it did me. It’s really short, like 5 sentences but really helpful. http://pleasefindthis.blogspot.com/2009/08/return-to-green.html
xx Nicky | August 22, 2009 at 9:18 am | Reply

my favorite post of yours yet.
Elisabeth | August 23, 2009 at 12:12 am | Reply

I love that despite the pain you lay bare in your writing you can still the future as hopeful. I’m so impressed that you can still write this entry.
Pingback: To Mai, with Love « The Audacity of Moi
Alexia | September 9, 2010 at 5:59 pm | Reply

I think this is one of my favourite posts of yours xx

Notes from a Singleton

15 Responses to Notes from a Singleton

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