Armor

We try to protect ourselves. We enclose ourselves in a kind of shell, a kind of armor that we think can prevent us from getting hurt. We push people away when we really want to pull them close because we are afraid that they will hurt us. Experience has told us that sometimes even the ones who love you can hurt you more than you could imagine. These are the kinds of wounds that never completely heal or heal delicately so that any new jarring can rip them wide open again. We work hard for months, years, trying to heal these wounds. Trying to convince ourselves that things turned out for the best. Trying to hold the wound closed, desperately trying to help it heal. And eventually we do move on...or at least we keep moving forward. Because time will not stop to accommodate our grief.

It is painful to lose someone you love - whether it's through death or through other circumstances by which they fade away from our presence. They were once there in your life, offering love and support and guidance or just being there as a friendly reminder that someone cares. And then they're gone. Sometimes they may fade away slowly, becoming less involved in your life over time as you grow apart. Sometimes they may leave suddenly through death or a relationship breaking up. These sudden losses hit us hard. It's easier to deal with someone fading away because we are less aware of the loss until we stop and realize that they are no longer there and we haven't talked to or seen them in months...or longer. When someone leaves us suddenly we are much more acutely aware of the loss. We think about them a lot. We feel the heartwrenching pain of knowing they will never be there next to us again, at least not in the way that they were. We can't hold their hands or rest our heads on their shoulders. But I believe that the people we love are never really gone. We are connected to each other by the experiences and memories we have shared. The loved ones who have passed on are still here around us in spirit and their spirits live on in us, in the ways they have changed us and shaped our lives so they never really leave us.

And there are those whose paths have suddenly veered away from ours, who have broken our hearts in the process, and who are out there...somewhere...and just aren't living their lives with us. Those are perhaps the losses that hurt the most. The people who we shared so much with, spent so much time with, and felt connected to more than anyone else at times. When they are also the people who hurt us more than we knew we could be hurt we are left with this internal conflict. We loved them and usually we keep on loving them even when our hearts are torn to shreds but at the same time we want to hurt them as much as they hurt us. We want them to feel the wrench in their heart and have the knowledge that the person who was never supposed to hurt them has caused more pain than they could imagine. So we build armor. We pick up shields and try to protect ourselves from being hurt like that again.

But our armor doesn't just protect us, it encloses us. It keeps us distanced from people so that we are afraid to come out from behind the shields and show our true selves. When we expose ourselves for who we really are and allow ourselves to become vulnerable, we are opening ourselves up to opportunities but we are also leaving ourselves in danger of getting hurt again. When wounds are still fresh, it is easy to remember how much they hurt, but once they have begun to heal we can sometimes forget the real sting and the blade slicing through flesh is more painful than we remembered. Our else we remember that injury as being more painful than it was, and the risk of remaining closed is greater than the risk of opening up and allowing someone in. So we allow ourselves some space to explore. And maybe one day we'll find a safe harbor to rest in where we can let down our guards and cast off our armor, knowing that we can fly free without the fear of being shot down. "And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." --Anais Nin



Yours,
Penguini