“My husband and my boys (literally, my own little band of brothers) pretty much carried me through the battlefield. I mention that, because you deserve something great in your life, so I want you to set the bar high. A man who looks upon your scars and sees strength and courage . . . grace . . . and beauty. Not broken. Not impossible to love. Worthy of love. Believe.”
My immediate reaction was sadness. Not for her but for me.
I’m not sure anyone will ever love me that way and boy would it feel good to be loved like that.
It’s been 10 years since my divorce. Enough time to have some relationships. Enough time for those relationships to fail. And even though I know nothing is wrong with me, I can’t help but wonder why it hasn’t happened for me yet.
Is there no great love affair destined for me in my future?
Should I resign myself to being a “temporary lover?”
Always a bridesmaid, never the bride, so to speak?
I can practically hear my friend Michelle echoing the sentiment to “set the bar high.” She’d likely say that when a man doesn’t measure up, I mold myself into something that fits. Something that isn’t me. And that’s non-sustainable.
She may be right.
At least I’m still out there. At least I’m still looking.
I may not be getting it 100% right, but failure is illuminating what’s not right for me.
All I have to do it get it right once.
How hard can that be?