Recently I have started to re-watch my ‘fashion-bible-tv-serial’ Sex and the City. I’d been browsing through Beth Jones’s ‘What would Carrie wear’ posts when I realized I could use some Manhattan drama. As I had been watching it for an hour or so it slowly reminded me of my late single life. When I was free to do with myself, my time and body whatever I wanted and felt like (well, I’m still free, but in a different way). When I was partying no matter what and most of the time when slept with someone was kinda hoping that this was it.
Eventually, after certain amount of experiences and drama, I found him, the IT man, and since I’ve being really happy and in love with him. However, while watching SATC it suddenly hit me how much I have changed, in every aspect, since being in a relationship.
Just to mention the shallowest issue of mine – I have put on weight a lot. I have also reorganized my priorities (some better, some worse), have built up new habits (again, some better, some worse), and instead of ME I created a world of US or just simply HIM. Endeavoring to evolve the perfect relationship I gradually and unconsciously broke up with myself.
My relationship attitude has really affected me in many ways – there have been some advantages, yet disadvantaged, too. Sometimes I’ve felt like I’d lost myself, then I’d realize how much I’ve been gaining from it on many levels (apart from the kilos). And then, yesterday while watching all the single ladies getting, trying or talking about sex and listening to the pros and contras of love it downed on me: it is not the man or the relationship that have changed me – it is me, my expectations and my urge to fulfill those very same expectations that got me lost somewhere on the road.
It was then when I realized that I’m turning thirty in less than a month, and still trying to figure myself out and possibly re-establish my life, while I have almost everything that happiness and love could involve. I couldn’t help but wonder: Is it only when I lose myself in someone else that I find myself?
When I heard that song for the first time I didn’t really get it. (Depeche Mode – Only when I lose myself) Honestly, I didn’t get it at all. Not even for the second time. It took me some time (quite some) to get it even ring a bell. Then I started to realize that losing myself is actually letting go of my EGO in order to find the inner self. It is possible and more importantly inevitable while having the chance of experiencing this life. As I’ve figured it is only achievable through LOVE, the real one, the honest one, the pure one.
One of the forty rules of love says something about the importance of dying before death. That’s how someone becomes a Sufi, or at least it is a part of that journey.
Well, don’t get me wrong, I am far away from becoming a Sufi and I know I’m no Carrie Bradshaw either, but I think after dying a little several times before and having experienced different kinds of love I know something about the topic.
I am still learning LOVE every day – giving it, receiving it and letting it go so one day it would return again. I am still learning to love myself, one of the hardest lessons in life (at least in mine), but it has actually helped me to accept the fact that am reaching another decade soon. I am no longer afraid of that. In fact, I am looking forward to all the beauties and wonders life and love have to offer.
All this time I was trying to find myself without knowing where I’d got lost. Well, I’d got lost inside; I lost myself, the connection, the ability of loving myself. So, go figure: it is really only when I lose myself (whether in me or in someone else) that I find myself…