For my Marriage and Family Counseling class, I have been reading John Gray, Ph. D.'s book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. The fourth chapter is on motivating the opposite sex. Everything he has said about women so far is dead on. The worst part is that as I'm reading this I'm realizing how bitter, angry, and distrustful I've become of men in the past 10 years.
I was reading through this today questioning if it was possible to find a guy who really does want to take care of a girl. I turned to Amber and Regina and asked where these guys are hiding. Where are these men that want to actually take care of the woman in their lives? Have I missed them entirely?
It makes me frustrated because I know I sound so terrible and bitter for saying that, but I'm feeling the aching in my chest, staring at the scars that cover my heart and hope, and I am reliving the rejections I've dealt with all through growing up. I've had a couple boyfriends, and I'm not saying they were bad guys, but they weren't mature enough to take care of me. One of them is a cause of more wounds and brokenness than I can explain and the rejections of that relationship and the hollowed out spaces in my heart that he left...I've never figured out how to fully heal those.
God made men and women differently, and I'm glad. We're different physically, emotionally, and mentally in ways. These are good things. They enhance our friendships and relationships. We're interlocking puzzle pieces that fit together to make something even greater.
My problem would be the walls. After facing the pain of so many rejections, I have developed a facade which seems like such a joke most of the time, but I wonder how many people are willing to believe in my silence. Do people really believe I'm this strong? Or brave? Or kind? Or any of the things that I try to put across...
Truthfully, I am tired, worn, scared, scarred, aching, lonely, and desperately holding onto the flicker of hope that says that there's someone out there that will want to spend the rest of a lifetime with me. Someone I can count on. Someone who will laugh with me, but be willing to hold me when I feel like I'm falling apart.
Someone who will hold me when I feel all the wounds reopening so that I don't fall apart.
I'm praying it happens soon because I don't know how much longer I can hold out. My hope may flicker out.