I have been fed a fairly steady diet of pessimism throughout the years, especially when it comes to relationships. For example, I've never been that girl who says, "I just want happily ever after, like in the movies." No, I have always been the girl who walks away from any romance movie, rolling her eyes, saying "that was completely unrealistic."
In the last few months, I decided to get a little rebellious. I decided to get a little scandalous, well, for me anyway. But I'm beginning to fear that it wasn't harmless like I thought it would be. What did I do?
I gave myself permission to dream a little- without criticism.
This is something I've been keeping to myself. I haven't told anyone that I've begun to allow myself to long to be loved.
I've let myself daydream- just once or twice- about someday being married and actually liking it. With every dream, there's been risk. An idea will pop into my head, and the immediate response, of course is, "no, don't think that. That's unrealistic." But the last few weeks, I've been daring to shut down the cynicism, and open that door, just a bit. It's all in the form of questions. What if I marry someone I'm really attracted to, not just someone I'm settling for? What if he actually wants to understand what's going on inside this head of mine? What if he actually loves me and isn't just excited to be in love with just anyone decent? What if I could be in a relationship where it didn't feel like every compliment was a line? What if I could be with a man I respect?
Do I sometimes think, "oh wouldn't it be exciting to catch the eye of some famous musician or some really popular guy?" Yeah, I do, but it's easier to think of that type of thing.
I don't know whether this is making any sense, but I've decided that it takes a lot more courage to allow myself to long for a healthy, romantic and loving marriage and a lot less courage to imagine a dramatic, dysfunctional, self-obsessed relationship.
Now, all of my child-rearing tells me to abandon any and all hope for something healthy, something sacred and worth working for. It tells me that dysfunction is all I've ever know. Humanity is fallen and broken and there is no hope. But there's something small, with a small voice (and, just to note, it hasn't yet established any credibility with me) whispers to me, with an unusual boldness, to hold out for healthy and functional and beautiful. "Don't bother hoping for perfect," it says, "but for goodness sake, hope for more."
