Let Love In.

My closet is organized by sleeve length, with all the cardigans hung to avoid creases. My desk drawer at work is color coordinated, painstakingly labeled, and my email inbox is frequently purged. I use a labeled expandable file to hold my coursework. I am concrete. I enjoy structure and fact. It gives me a sense of safety and control. I find comfort in plans and schedules and expectations, so I've created a world of tangible and controlled - a place where I feel safe.

This is nothing new, and if you've known for me for longer than a day or two you could pick up that I've likely always been this way.  I have these (not-so-subtle) quirks, that expose the crazy - the innate need to plan and have a handle on all things at all times. It enables me to move through the chaotic space of life with some semblance of comfort.

I'm a strange little bird, and I've accepted my tendencies as a part of my identity. I thrive on preparedness and don't like to leave space for creativity and flux and the unknown. Uncertainty is crippling. The control and demand for concrete-ness is an intentional armor I don every morning. It protects me from the violent back and forth of the everyday chaos of life but as a result I don't have great sea legs. Flexibility is not my strong suit.

Even more frustratingly, I struggle to trust others who can't be concrete for me. I require frequent reminding that people care for me, that they love me, and in order for me to really believe it, to accept it as truth, I want it in concrete format. I want it to be said or written down. If I can't hold it in my hand or hear the words fall out of your mouth I struggle to believe it. It's the same reason I hated chemistry and embraced biology - you can't see atoms and molecules (for all I know, someone made that whole thing up), but biology...now that's a different story. I always understood biology. It's in your face and you can touch it. There's no denying it's there. 

I'm a woman who needs the smack-in-your-face kind of signs. So I wrote this - an open letter - to the self-doubters, to the control freaks, to those of us harboring insecurities. To anyone, to everyone. We all need to hear this now and again.

I have a dirty little secret. A struggle I keep to myself. One that only surfaces and rears its ugly head when someone tries to get close and pull open that little door inside my chest where my heart is locked, tightly sealed away for its own protection. It's a painful process, an arduous journey, to be let in. I love and I share and I'm all about affirming others. My secret isn't that I put my heart away for safekeeping - many people do. It's that I've been unwilling to believe that anyone would want to see it. To open the door. To trust someone else to value it enough that they won't take it out, take a peek and toss it aside. I've been living with a genuine fear that as soon as I let people in they'll see me for who I am and walk away. 

You see, there have been a few people in my past, as I'm sure there have been in most, that I handed my heart over to. I was authentic and genuine and full of love. And it was great. Until it wasn't. Somewhere along the way something more valued came along and I was cast aside like yesterday's news. And it broke my heart. Though it's mended, it's awfully scarred and that raw feeling of rejection is something I never want to experience again.

So I built a little wall, a chasm, a preventative measure to ensure it won't happen again, to prevent the pain of love and loss and rejection. I'm happy to let you in and share my story. But only so close. And then it's ... "WAIT, STOP! Don't touch that. You might break it again. You care about me? No, you can't possibly." 

Me? 
But I am flawed. 
I am broken.
I am messy.

I've been fighting a constant and uphill battle with worthiness, self-love, and vulnerability. It's easier to keep that final boundary up. It's a lot easier to maintain just a little bit of distance. And that, my friends, is pathetic. Because we are loved. We are cared for. But we have to believe that. This fear comes from within and fed by insecurities and doubt manifests as control and chasms and walls. 

People are knocking at the door of your heart and it's time to let them in.

It's going to be scary. It's scary because it matters. Because when you accept it - the care, the affection, the LOVE - you're handing over yourself. Putting yourself out there for potential rejection but trusting that it won't happen. When people love you, in order to feel the joy and happiness that comes along with that, you must first learn to accept it. You've got to be willing to take that leap of faith and hand over your broken, mangled heart held together will glue and tape. You've got to trust they're not like the ones who hurt you. They won't carelessly toss you aside. They won't leave you. But you have to trust them enough to show you.

Muster up the courage to put your little heart in their hands and believe that they will carefully, cautiously hold and protect it. Stop pushing the people waiting at your door away. You can't live in the past and you can't measure them by the mistakes others have made. Be brave.

But WHY? you ask. WHY do I have to take down the wall? Release the control? Crawl on my knees out of my safe place?

Because.
Because you are worth it. You're worthy of a million little things. You're worth every big thing. You are worthy of love. Of time. Of energy. You are worthy of someone who holds your heart like it's the grand prize. Like there is nothing more valuable in the world. Someone who sees you as you are. And wants you. And chooses you.

I've made a promise to myself. That quote - "We accept the love we think we deserve"- it's time to embrace it by accepting the love that others are trying to give. I'm certainly no expert and I have a lot to reconcile with myself. But the first step is to relinquish control, even just a little bit. Enough to stop putting up a wall between myself and people who really want to know me. I'm done stroking the anxiety that comes from hiding a heart and expecting everyone to hurt me someday. I'm starting at the beginning: releasing the fears, trusting those who want in, and letting myself be seen. Raw. True. Authentic. 

Join me. It's time. Be brave. Let go. Open the door. Let love in.