I Need You to Love Me
I've been reading books for over two years now about facing the ugly truths that are our pasts, acknowledging them, rolling around in the pain and feeling it deeply so as to let it go and move forward. This process really began a lot longer than just two years ago. I began this process the first time nine years ago, back in 2002 when my first marriage was crumbling around me.
One of the most hurtful things that came out of my first marriage falling apart was an accusation my ex made:
Even today, that statement is like a gut punch. At the core of my being, I want to love others as much as I can. Why? Because I know what it feels like to be the one saying, "You tell me all the time that you love me, but I don't feel loved/safe/adored/important." My childhood could be wrapped up in that statement. And if there was one thing I swore to myself, it's that I wouldn't become my mother, not even become a little bit like her!
Last night, I was re-reading "Love is A Choice" by Dr. Robert Hemfelt, Dr. Frank Minirth, and Dr. Paul Meyer. I first picked up this book nine years ago after a marriage counselor told me I was codependent and the best thing I could do for myself or my children was to let my husband walk away. "You have to fix you. You're never going to change him."
(Dagger to my heart.)
But then, I read the book looking at my absent father, my mother's harsh criticism, but I was still living in deep denial about what my childhood really was. Re-reading this book is much like reading it for the first time now. I continue to receive many insights into my painful childhood, and even into my mother's painful life.
Tonight, as I was sitting playing Zuma's Revenge [No, not Montezuma's Revenge! Really????], a song that I fell in love with many years ago came on the Music Choice channel I have running in the background. And as I sat here and listened to the words once again, I realized that it really summed up how I've lived most of my life. And so, please bear with me, and humor me. PLEASE, PLEASE listen to this song...
Here are the lyrics...not mine, but borrowed from the beautiful girls of BarlowGirl:
(Can't you see that I'm not worth the time? I mess up and I make mistakes. I have unrealistic expectations--needs and wants--and I'm embarrassed by who we are. I don't want you to see who I am really; I'm so far from being acceptable, attractive, lovable.)
One of the most hurtful things that came out of my first marriage falling apart was an accusation my ex made:
You tell me all the time that you love me, but I don't feel loved.
Even today, that statement is like a gut punch. At the core of my being, I want to love others as much as I can. Why? Because I know what it feels like to be the one saying, "You tell me all the time that you love me, but I don't feel loved/safe/adored/important." My childhood could be wrapped up in that statement. And if there was one thing I swore to myself, it's that I wouldn't become my mother, not even become a little bit like her!
Last night, I was re-reading "Love is A Choice" by Dr. Robert Hemfelt, Dr. Frank Minirth, and Dr. Paul Meyer. I first picked up this book nine years ago after a marriage counselor told me I was codependent and the best thing I could do for myself or my children was to let my husband walk away. "You have to fix you. You're never going to change him."
(Dagger to my heart.)
But then, I read the book looking at my absent father, my mother's harsh criticism, but I was still living in deep denial about what my childhood really was. Re-reading this book is much like reading it for the first time now. I continue to receive many insights into my painful childhood, and even into my mother's painful life.
Tonight, as I was sitting playing Zuma's Revenge [No, not Montezuma's Revenge! Really????], a song that I fell in love with many years ago came on the Music Choice channel I have running in the background. And as I sat here and listened to the words once again, I realized that it really summed up how I've lived most of my life. And so, please bear with me, and humor me. PLEASE, PLEASE listen to this song...
Why, why are you still here with me?
Didn't you see what I've done?
In my shame I want to run
And hide myself from you
But it's here I see the truth
I don't deserve you
(Can't you see that I'm not worth the time? I mess up and I make mistakes. I have unrealistic expectations--needs and wants--and I'm embarrassed by who we are. I don't want you to see who I am really; I'm so far from being acceptable, attractive, lovable.)
But I need you to love me, and I
I won't keep my heart from you this time
And I'll stop my pretending that I can
Somehow deserve what I already have
I need you to love me
(I've been pretending that all this pain and shame and guilt are things I've earned, that they are what I deserve. I'm not worth much really anyway. But maybe...maybe if you could love me...)
(I've been pretending that all this pain and shame and guilt are things I've earned, that they are what I deserve. I'm not worth much really anyway. But maybe...maybe if you could love me...)
I, I have wasted so much time
Pushing you away from me.
I just never saw how you
Could cherish me.
Cause you’re a God who has all things,
And still you want me.
(Could it be that you are the one who created me, who's loved me all this time? Do you really weep when I cry? Do you hurt when I'm hurting? And why, oh, why do you still want me?)
Pushing you away from me.
I just never saw how you
Could cherish me.
Cause you’re a God who has all things,
And still you want me.
(Could it be that you are the one who created me, who's loved me all this time? Do you really weep when I cry? Do you hurt when I'm hurting? And why, oh, why do you still want me?)
Your love makes me forget what I have been.
Your love makes me see who I really am.
Your love makes me forget what I have been, oh-oh.
(I can't begin to understand it. Wrapped in your love, what I was, who I was, the things I've done seem to disappear. Your love allows me to believe that I have value. Your love allows me to breath, to dance, to sing, to create. Thank you for loving me. 'Cause nobody's ever loved me like that before...)
Your love makes me see who I really am.
Your love makes me forget what I have been, oh-oh.
(I can't begin to understand it. Wrapped in your love, what I was, who I was, the things I've done seem to disappear. Your love allows me to believe that I have value. Your love allows me to breath, to dance, to sing, to create. Thank you for loving me. 'Cause nobody's ever loved me like that before...)
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