“The love you’re born to find”

There’s a popular song in Australia called “Be Alright,” by Dean Lewis. It’s one of those songs that’s played and replayed on the radio at least a dozen times before nightfall.

 
I love this song.

 
It’s melancholy. Poetic. Relatable.

 
For two months, all I heard was the chorus which goes like this:

 
“And my friend said
‘I know you love her, but it’s over, mate
It doesn’t matter, put the phone away
It’s never easy to walk away, let her go
It’ll be okay
It’s gonna hurt for a bit of time
So bottoms up, let’s forget tonight
You’ll find another and you’ll be just fine
Let her go’”

 
Loss.

 
It’s about loss – and we’ve all been there, right. Probably more than once. For some of us, if we’ve experienced trauma we may even associate love to loss. We expect it.

 

But loss is part of life – sometimes we have to leave a boyfriend, a relationship, a friendship, or someone we love. Sometimes they leave us. Regardless, it’s never easy, it hurts, and sometimes it even feels like a death. There’s no getting around it – it’s just hard.

 
Yesterday during a workout, this song came on, and after countless times of hearing it, I felt like I was hearing if for the first time. Instead of hearing the chorus, I heard lyrics at the end :

 
“But nothing heals the past like time
And they can’t steal
The love you’re born to find
But nothing heals the past like time
And they can’t steal
The love you’re born to find”

 
…. “they can’t steal the love you’re born to find.”

 
I took my foot out of the TRX straps and stood there.

 
I backed the song up and listened again.

 
I felt faith begin to emerge.

 
I was reminded of how interesting it is that we always hear what we need to hear when we’re ready.

 
I thought about how as a little girl, I prayed at eight years old on my knees at St. Johns Church for things little girls probably don’t pray for. Serious things.

 
I planned how I would do things differently when I grew up.

 
How my family would be.

 
I thought about how I had a meltdown at seven, because my mom brought home a wedding dress costume so I could be a bride for Halloween. I literally freaked out. Like….Mel Gibson / Charlie Sheen style.

 
Somehow, in my little girl brain I had attached “weak” to “bride.”

 
…. I chose to be a gypsy instead. Way cooler.

 
I thought about how I disliked the Little Mermaid because Ariel had to turn into a human and leave her family – why couldn’t Eric turn into a Merman?

 
This seems silly – but for real, I had a feminist crisis about this at maybe the age of five.

 
I thought about how all of this contradicts the romantic spirit that I possess, but hate owning up to unless you experience being in relationship with me, in which case I have to work very hard to temper it ‘cause you may feel overwhelmed or generally grossed out.

 

 

The sappy feminist.

 
The independent seeker of partnership.

 
The non-committal loyalist.

 
The girl who will step in front of a moving train for you, but doesn’t like the idea of Ariel sacrificing her fish tail.

 
Internal battle? No, not here.

 
But in that moment, of hearing those lyrics I caught myself between the shift of believing :

 
“the love you’re born to find” being another person

 
and

 
“the love you’re born to find” being me.

 
I literally went from dreaming of another

 
to seeing within.

 
Outside of me

 
To inside of me.

 
The revelation of : “Oh my God, I’m the love of my life!”

 
Now I’m laughing. Sounds narcissistic, but it’s not. Narcissists don’t love themselves.

 

They don’t know how to love, period.

 
People who know how to love, love themselves first.

 
I think often times, especially as women we believe that we must be loved and chosen in order to feel loved and chosen.

 

We’re told this in every message, every movie, every fairytale ever.

 
And even us – the one’s born with a feminist spirit – the one’s who wanna tell Ariel “Listen, lady – maybe Eric can think about becoming a Merman. Or maybe you guys can switch off between land and sea every so often. At the very least, can you guys talk about it first? ….Rock, paper, scissors?”

 
…. Even us, who would rather be gypsies than brides for Halloween, simply because we want to express ourselves in a way that says I am me, independent and ok…

 
…. Even us, the ones who said we would marry soccer when we were children (odd, I know)….

 
….. Even us, the ones who would cringe in younger years to know that we would one day own up to the fact that we were romantics, and guilty of seeking love in others …. even in men …..

 
Us, yes us – learn that we ourselves are still unprotected and susceptible to the lie that “if you love me, I love me. If you choose me, I choose me.”

 
We find ourselves asking someone else to do the job that only we can do.

 
And here’s the truth – even when you are loved and chosen – even when you are accepted and told you’re enough – you will still not feel loved, chosen, accepted or enough, unless you yourself love you, choose you, accept you, and deem yourself to be enough.

 
That’s both a fantastic truth, and a devastating reality.

 
Fantastic in that, you have the power.

 
Devastating in that, you have the responsibility.

 
I can say with confidence, that no part of my life has run efficiently until I’ve learned to love the parts of myself involved.

 
I’ve experienced this with soccer.

 
“The love you’re born to find” was never about finding “him.”

 
Or it….

 
Or when…..

 
Or where…..

 

It’s about finding me.

 
Loving all parts of myself.

 
Accepting all parts of myself.

 
Our relationship with self, is the most critical relationship we have. We have to get this right, before we can get the others right.

 
So yes, you are born to find love.

 
Find it within first.

 
Love you.