After work she eats until she numbs herself.
When she’s numb from food, she reads a romance novel, maybe watches dramatic TV.
When she gets frustrated enough at living love through a stupid-ass novel, she hates other women who have loving husbands to distract her from her true craving for a man.
When she becomes too fat for her own ideals, she begins an exercise regime just to feel good enough about herself to keep her authentic craving for a man at bay.
When she hates other women long enough for having what she believes she doesn’t have, she uses work to feel good about herself.
‘That bitch has got a man and beautiful kids, but I’M successful.’
But still the truth is this… our running from our craving is really just a stupid strategy and story that we adopted somewhere along the way that helped us deal with the fact that in our heart, we have a desire to surrender to a trustworthy man.
And, our distraction strategies work. We can’t always feel all our truest cravings – we wouldn’t be able to live our lives and still feel safe.
And there’s a problem with surrendering to our truest nature and our truest heart’s desire.
Because if we wanted a man who rips us open and causes us to surrender in love that badly, then what if other women judge us for being who we really are?
And more – what if we get hurt? What if my heart gets broken? What if I then had to face all the feelings of inadequacy that come with love?
What if I’m truly NOT enough?
Our living out of our true craving magnifies other’s emotions, even in men.
And our fakeness, living a lie and superficiality can always be confirmed by the people round us who prefer to keep us where we are, treating us, perhaps, like the unemotional beings that we appear to be.
Inside, we’re not though. We are raging, we are hurting, we are craving to surrender to a man, we have deeper love to offer almost anyone but we struggle to show it, AND sometimes we want to kill, sometimes we hate, sometimes we love so deeply it feels like it’s too much for our bodies, sometimes we really just want to be the mommy or the cheerleader we secretly always wanted to be, or the bubbly goddess, but hell, other women will hate us or reject us for it, maybe. Because bitchy.
So we turn to substitutes.
Substitutes for love, which is at the core of WHO we are, even though how we all want to show it may come out differently, and uniquely.
I’ve used substitutes, and sometimes I still use them when I’m scared.
Love is hard because it is. And what IS isn’t enough these days. We have to ‘have’ something, we have to ‘be’ successful, we have to ‘be’ worthy. Or something.
You know those women who deny that they want any relationship, but the way their denial comes out, in itself, feels aggressive and defensive to you?
(That’s how intense our core wants us to exist and offer the love that we are.)
We are all those women who deny we want to experience love, or could potentially have been.
16 year olds are this woman, and 75 year olds are this woman.
Women in marriages can be this woman.
Waiting and waiting some more. Waiting with food, waiting with friends, waiting with movies, waiting with novels, waiting with superficial sex with the hottest guys.
Because waiting distracts us, and makes us feel worthy for long enough that we don’t have to sit on the bathroom floor in despair over our true heart’s craving for a man.
Food never replaces his loving presence.
Work never replaces his embrace.
Porn never substitutes for his penetration; trustable emotional and physical penetration.
Romance novels never compare to a real life love story that’s so imperfect is becomes perfect.
The men who devote their heart and soul to us are the ones who are ready to meet our vulnerable craving, loving hearts. Anything less and he chooses another who exudes open hearted craving and loving.
In my belief, the devoted men are not looking for the breast implants, not the make up.
Not the well conditioned hair.
Not the perfectly sculpted bum.
Not the tanned skin, not the long legs.
Not the perfect freckles, not the exotic face.
Not the perfect dress or bikini. Not the perfect smile.
Just perfectly vulnerably existing, open hearted craving for a man.
Are you ready to believe that?
It’s ok if you’re not. It is waiting for us when we are ready.
When we are ready, we can drop the importance of the make up and the cute clothes and designer purchases, and instead, just crave openly through our bodies and our gait, our breath and our eyes, and the devoted man who is sensitive to our existence and strong enough to protect, will come forward and claim us, for that’s what he needs.