Day 12

Today I spoke with a man Aaron worked with on the farm. He didn’t offer details but he looked at me and said, You made the right decision. For two weeks now voices keep coming out of the woodwork confirming the decision I made. And while I’m grateful not to doubt my choice, I can’t help but wonder…where in the heck were all these voices for the past seven months when I was trying to discern if this relationship was wise in the first place?!

It’s not fair to put the weight of my choice on the shoulders of others. I don’t want to do that; it’s mine to shoulder and own. But it does confuse my heart. I feel like I’ve lived in a way that is not only open to but seeks out the counsel of those older and wiser, those who can see better than I can. I was trying to do that with Aaron. Honest. I got him around men I trusted and thought if something was wrong I would know about it, and yet that wasn’t the case. I guess I didn’t ask enough questions. People’s concerns slipped through the cracks and didn’t find their way to me until months later. And the ones I did catch wind of weren’t strong enough…or didn’t come from those I trusted most…or maybe my love was too blind to listen…or a mixed-up cocktail of all three.

The result is that I feel dumb, naïve, embarrassed. People tell me I have no reason to be, that I made a wise choice, I listened to my spiritual authorities, I made the hard decision. I didn’t say whatever and go ahead and marry him anyways like a lot of girls would. Sure. I may hear that in my head, but it doesn’t change the way I feel—like I was played, like I was fed the right lines that would unlock my heart and couldn’t see through the scheme. It’s not as bad as all that. I don’t want to disrespect Aaron. He’s not a sleazy player. I don’t think he meant to hurt me intentionally. But I do think his fear drew him to leave out portions of the truth, to deceive me in a roundabout way. And so I feel like my compassionate, trusting heart was taken advantage of.

My pride is what feels the most wounded [and yes I know this is a good thing but HOLY BUCKETS couldn’t there be an easier way to refine my heart?]. I think I thought I was above all this. I’m not very insecure. I wasn’t looking for a man to fulfill me or reassure me of my worth, which is how most women end up in the this mess, right? And yet here I am, somehow still fooled. I almost walked into a disaster of a marriage. I almost put my dreams and calling in jeopardy to love an unhealthy man. It scares me to see how close I came to stumbling over the edge of the line from which I would’ve chosen not to return [divorce is not something I consider okay unless in extreme situations; I would’ve made a valiant run of it]. I look in the mirror and have to face up to raw truth that I am not as wise and discerning as I had thought. I am just as capable of being blind and misguided and unable to see God’s best as the next person over. I didn’t marry the first man I dated. The first man I kissed. I can now join the ranks of those who have an EX, something I never understood before. So to all those who have reached that tier ahead of me I say, I am not above you. Maybe it’s you who are above me, who already know true love isn’t perfect. No matter how religious you try to make it the Bible never promises fairytales. Here’s the truth: we fail. I FAIL. I was imperfect in finding love. And the realization is smacking me in the gut.