It’s a weird realization when you’re married. Most people jump to I’ll never get to have sex with someone else again (which is obviously not true if you look at divorce records), but I digress.
I was driving home a few weeks ago listening to music that must’ve transported me back to some older version of my self, because I suddenly noticed tears rolling down my face at the realization that I would never be able to fall in love again.
It sounds terrible, huh? How ungrateful to be married and sad that you’ll never get to fall in love again. I know… It’s not to say I want a divorce or that there’s someone else. But what I mean is that I will never experience the ability to fall in love again in the same way as I could before.
Before what?
Before this version of myself.
I’ll never be able to get back to the 15 year old version of myself whose heart was broken by a stupid boy who didn’t value her. Or the 28 year old version of the girl before her priorities changed after having kids and responsibilities. Those versions of me aren’t dead, but they also can’t really be present now. When I look back at previous parts of my life I realize it’s not just “this version” or “that version” I grieve, it’s the ability to trust without fear, the feeling of unending time that now feels scarily limited, the freedom that disappears with motherhood.
They say experience makes you wiser and I guess it does, but it also makes you more cautious. More weary of change. More unable to just let go of the worries. Experiences give us the materials, and without realizing it, we begin to build the protective armor that gets harder to take off as the years go on. Because, after all, hasn’t it protected us up to this point?
Sure it has, but at what cost?
Over time the armor starts to feel like another layer of our identity… an unconscious way we protect ourselves.
The layers of our identity accumulate quietly over time, shaped by the pressure of society and self. Before long you realize the reason you can’t dig down as easily now is because the layers have turned to rock… she’s unable to move. Even though that version of her is still in there, you can’t reach her. The transformation is complete.
