Loving Myself Whole

Several years ago I found a letter from a lover who had written to a woman in another country. She lived, in Japan, I believe. When I read it, I was devastated, broken and numb. I suppose it was because we had dated for a number of years. Once I got to the end, I packed up my things, and raced out of his front door. There were no words that came from my mouth; I was simply in a state of disbelief and very, very angry. And with all that anger, came feelings of insecurity and doubt. I started picking myself apart, wondering what part of me he didn't love. Was I not attractive enough? Smart enough? Kind enough? Was it because I didn't have the long, silky hair that she had? Or was it, as he used to tell me, that I needed a more submissive spirit? As the questions continued to ring in my head so did my anger. So I used the address of the other woman that I managed to jot down a few days before to find some answers. I wanted all of my frustration and bitterness to be directed toward her. Not him. Not me. I asked how long they had been seeing one another although it really didn’t matter. I asked if she had also loved him even though I could care less. And then I wished her well and told her how I hoped that his mistake wouldn’t be repeated with her. And in that moment I found closure because I knew that his cheating had nothing to do with me at all. That period of my life, as difficult as it was, became the catalyst for me to stop the inner conversations of inadequacy and replace it with self love. And while there will always be the memory of that broken relationship I learned that there was more value in loving myself whole. In dew season, I pray, we all feel this way.