As I mentioned yesterday, fear affects us and our relationships in ways that we don't often like to admit. And when it comes to romantic relationships, that is the problem. We have to admit our fears, or they will become toxic to any chance we have at true love.
My relationship with my boyfriend, Zack, has gone through many seasons over the past four and a half years—seasons of puppy love, long distance, coming out, asking hard questions, our first this together, our first that together, time apart, reuniting, and commitment. What can you expect from two closeted 19 year olds not only trying to understand themselves, but understand the world and what it means to love? The odds were against us. And there definitely were times when the odds won—when fear won. But love is a mysterious thing, and it has continued to creep in and mend anything fear has broken over the years. And today I am happy to say that our relationship is healthier and happier than anytime before. We manage our fears better now. I cannot speak for Zack of course, but through the early years of our relationship, I was still learning how to manage my fear. From the fears deeply woven in my heart by a homophobic religious education, to the normal fears of commitment in a serious relationship, I often allowed my actions to be guided by fear rather than love. I drilled Zack with question after question. I argued. I didn't say a thing. I left. I came back. Fear and love were having an all out war within me. Zack can attest to this. My spiritual director can attest to this. My best friends and family can attest to this. It wasn't easy. I wasn't easy.
But Zack stayed. Maybe he was putting himself through some sort of penance? I am not sure. And I am not saying Zack did not or does not have fears of his own, but he has always carried a such quiet sureness in his demeanor that before I never could quite grasp. Most days I find it attractive and beautifully comforting, but there are some days when it frustrates me to no end. As a verbal processor and a decently (very) sensitive guy, it is hard for me to grasp how he manages to stay so quiet when we discuss any fears that might be affecting our relationship. My brain will spew out a ten minute monologue, while Zack listens quietly and then offers a simple, but well thought out, ten second response. It is both fascinating and infuriating. As we have matured, we have both agreed to work hard to meet in the middle—less spewing from me, more sharing from him—but in recent reflection, I have realized there may have been a reason Zack didn't need to say much during our biggest discussions over the years.
Many of the fears I had were really reflections of the fears within myself. I needed to talk them out. I needed to conquer them—sometimes with Zack by my side, and sometimes on my own. I think deep down we all might be afraid of ourselves a bit, because, well, who knows you better than you? We know the best and worst within ourselves, and when it comes to romantic relationships, there really isn't much room to hide anymore. Loving deeply and being loved deeply forces us to confront our fears. It is very tough, but it is also very healing.
Loving another person is truly one of the most incredible and challenging endeavors of human nature. I could talk about this for days. It begins unexpectedly. It is not a decision, but something that buds inside your heart without you noticing, and when it flowers, there is really no getting rid of it. But then comes the commitment and hard work to keep it healthy and alive. This is when you face your fears. You choose all of someone, they choose all of you, and you commit to choosing all of each other every day for the joys and sorrows of a lifetime—an "incredible and challenging endeavor of human nature" only made possible by choosing love over fear.
Keep peace and keep creating,
Parker <3
