The Heart of the Matter

I've been sentimental-crying a lot since I turned 60 earlier this year. I'm not a crier by nature. I used to be when I was young and easily hurt. But I've had to toughen up to get through life's challenges and occasional loneliness, and crying became an anomaly for me.

Recently a friend told me I was an empath. I have heard the term for a few years but because I don't suffer fools gladly, I figured that didn't apply to me. I reread the definition recently and was surprised to be guilty as charged. 

My dad always told me that I was "too sensitive". I never agreed. I felt that I was just a kind person and that everyone who hurt me was too INsenstive. But as I did more work in therapy, I found that I could be both sensitive and strong. What a gift that was for me.

But it didn't fix all heartaches. I've had to keep working on that.

Recently I've been in contact with some old college friends who I haven't seen in close to 40 years. Thanks to social media, your past becomes your present in the time it takes to respond to a friend request on Facebook.

Besides being "too sensitive" as a youth I was also incredibly shy and had almost no self esteem. People who know me now as an outgoing, confident extrovert never believe me. But life in my teens and early twenties was very difficult for me. 

I went to college and met a large group of friends who loved me regardless of (or maybe because of) my emotional and social awkwardness. They saved me. They also raised me to a large extent. 

Looking at old college pictures (I always had my little Instamatic camera with me at parties) and sharing stories with some long-lost college pals in the past few weeks has been a huge gift for me.

When I've looked back at those years, they have mostly been filled with wonder. We were an outrageous gang of crazies. We partied like no others I knew, danced constantly to our favorite bands either at clubs or in our friend's apartment. I think if we hadn't had his apartment to go to, we would not have hung out as much together. We could be ourselves there and yearned for weekend nights just so we could all be together again.

If you're looking for a comparison, our group was like a combination of the characters from Friends and the "brat pack" of the 1980s with a touch of Animal House thrown in (hey, it was the late 1970s). 

We dated each other, broke up, and dated others in the group. There was rarely any jealousy. We were so tight that not much could ever tear us apart. Several of the couples ended up marrying and are still married today.

I've found out through new conversations with these long-lost pals that there was more going on than I was aware of. The guys in the group had a pact to protect the girls in the group - especially the innocent and sensitive ones like me. No one was allowed to make a move on us unless the guys in the pact thought the suitor passed the test. This was so touching to me and explained how I was able to stay safe through some pretty wild times. That was because the guys were always diligent.

This revelation brought me to tears. How sweet. How kind. 

It also made me realize that this crazy gang wasn't just about fun. I tend to over-romanticize events that are extremely important to me. So after almost 40 years, I thought that maybe this was another example and that everyone else in the group couldn't possibly have felt that our connection to each other was as magical as it was to me. I was wrong.

But, like I said, that time was not only special but also difficult for me. I fell deeply in love with someone during that time who, by simply living his own life and following his own destiny, broke my inexperienced heart. I had to walk away or I would never have been able to move on. This is when I stopped being a crier. 

I pushed through intense loneliness as my friends all got married and had kids. I went to their weddings and baby showers and smiled for them. On my own, I lived with constant heartache.

Meeting my husband at the age of 26 changed all that loneliness. Finally I had met someone who truly cared about me. Who would love me despite all of my failings and I would do the same for him. We have been happily married for 31 years.

While reconnecting with the old gang recently I started to remember the old heartache and unexpectedly feel it in a way that I hadn't in a long time. It was a hurt that never healed because it was too painful to revisit.

But now that all the stories and backstories are being told, I'm seeing my empath leanings in real time.

There isn't much in my life that I can't work through. And music and literature always help me. 

As I got in my car to drive to work this morning, I reached for an old CD. There was a song on it that was just what I needed to help me feel it all while singing through sentimental tears. I've played this song many times in my life. While going through therapy, having difficult conversations with my father, and peeling off bandaids that hide emotional wounds that refuse to heal. 

Forgiveness is the theme of the song but it wasn't until today that I felt that the forgiveness I needed was not something I need to give to others but to myself. 

And I need to re-grow a part of my heart that I cut off because it was too shattered for even me to live with. While listening to the song I realized it is finally time to get down to the heart of the matter. But I'm thinking about Forgiveness.

Don Henley's The Heart of the Matter (video link below)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMZDswCUcOY