I know some of my writing lately has probably sounded like I’m tooting my own horn about my kids. I’m really not. I think I’m just at this stage where they’re old enough to show me who they’ve become, and every once in a while one of them says something that makes me realize, Wow. They really were listening.
Today was one of those days.
Last year, my son dated someone he really cared about. He went into it with his whole heart. He planned beautiful dates, opened doors, was thoughtful, brought her around his family and gave her a real place in his life. He did all the things that came naturally to him when he cared about someone.
But somehow, he constantly felt like none of it was enough.
When it ended, he was devastated. I remember him going back to school telling me he would never do it again. No more beautiful dates. No more going above and beyond. No more letting someone that far into his life. He wasn’t going to be that guy anymore.
And I got angry.
Not at him, but because someone had hurt him badly enough to make him believe that the problem was how he loved.
I remember telling him, absolutely not. You are not going to let one person change the man you are.
And maybe I felt so strongly about it because I knew exactly what happens to the person who comes next.
I feel like I have spent much of my adult life being that person. I’ve met men after the heartbreak, after the betrayal, after the woman who made them decide they would never give that much again. Then I came along wanting something pretty simple: someone who was proud to have me in his life, who wanted me around his family, planned a date sometimes, was romantic, made memories with me and, in time, wasn’t afraid to give me a real place in his world.
No whirlwind. No instant promises. Just someone willing to eventually love me without making me pay for what somebody else did.
And so many times, I met people who had already decided they weren’t doing that anymore.
For a long time, it made me wonder if I was just hard to love. As I’ve gotten older, I realize that isn’t it. I know what I bring into someone’s life, and I know how much love I have to give. I just kept meeting people who were afraid to give theirs again.
That’s what I needed my son to understand.
Take your time. Be selective. Make people earn access to the deepest parts of you. Learn the difference between chemistry and character and pay attention to how someone treats your heart.
But don’t change your heart because somebody mishandled it.
Because someday another woman may come along who had absolutely nothing to do with what happened to you. She may have spent years hoping to meet exactly the kind of man you are. How unfair would it be for her to finally find you and receive half of you because somebody before her didn’t appreciate the whole?
Today, almost a year later, my son told me about a conversation he had with a friend. He said he found himself giving him the same advice I had given him.
He told him that he had learned to take his time and be more careful about who he gives his heart to, but he will never let someone change the way he loves. When he chooses someone, he is going to love the way he loves, and if that’s too much for her, then she isn’t his person.
That made me proud.
Not because I had all the answers, but because he understood the difference between learning from hurt and becoming hurt.
And maybe that’s the part worth sharing.
So many of us meet someone after someone else has broken them. We end up trying to prove that we’re different, trying to earn things we never took away in the first place, and accepting half-love because somebody before us made them afraid to give the whole thing again.
Then we get hurt.
And if we’re not careful, we do the exact same thing to the next person.
At some point, somebody has to break that cycle.
Protect your heart. Take your time. Have boundaries. Walk away when someone shows you they aren’t deserving of what you have to give.
But if you aren’t ready to love someone, don’t invite them into your life and make them pay for wounds they didn’t create.
And when you are ready, love like yourself.
Whoever hurt you already took enough.
Don’t let them take the best parts of you too.
