I’m done with those; regrets are for people that have failed. –Ned Vizzini, It’s Kind of a Funny Story

This week, I sat in a staffing with a client who was kind of emotional in what I would consider an awkward way. No judgment, of course, but her emotional nature was clearly something that was embarrassing her. She kept apologizing while she laughed and cried at the same time. She said over and over again that, “really”, she “was fine”. She said that she felt overwhelmed but at the same time, really supported by the staff that surrounded her at the table. She stated that she was “scared to death” of all of us, more so even than her fear of the law, but she could look around at all of us and feel safe knowing that we all wanted the best for her.

I thought it was kind of an interesting way to put things because I’ve totally been in a similar situation before. Maybe not in child safety, per se. Maybe not in any way that she’s experienced. But I’ve been in the place where she was sitting. I still remember when my old boss was about nine months pregnant and could barely move but had knelt down next to me while I cried and tried impossibly to keep my shit together. I was rocking a baby to sleep and I now know that that little baby could probably sense my stress and turmoil but at the time, I didn’t know any other way to survive.

“Throwing a fork at someone’s head isn’t normal behavior, honey,” my sweet former boss said with a serious face and a tear in her eye. I was pretty hysterically crying, scared and maybe felt a little judged but somehow, I knew there was nothing but concern there. When she begged me to come live with her, reassuring me that although it might be close quarters, it would be safe, I knew it wasn’t because she was judging me; it was because she cared about me. It was because she felt better about me sharing a room with her one-year-old child than staying one more night in a home with my crazy boyfriend.

I never forgot that feeling. And although this mother wasn’t dealing with domestic violence or some crazy ex-boyfriend throwing cheap utensils at her head, I saw a lot of myself in her. Frightened, confused, unsure of who to trust. I think it’s safe to say that a lot of us have been there. Maybe even more than once.

But she said something else that really struck me. She was talking about how she is having an issue dealing with some of the feelings she has regarding an argument between her and a former friend/roommate. She kept trying to reassure us that she knew being so anxiety riddled about this particular issue wasn’t ordinary behavior. She kept saying over and over again that although she knew she shouldn’t be bothered by it anymore, she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between them. It had consumed her, she said, and she couldn’t stop thinking that if she hadn’t been involved with this former friend/roommate, she wouldn’t have been involved with our program in the first place.

The CPI, who is seasoned and absolutely excellent with clients, said to her that sometimes, “Growing means you’ve got to let some things, and people, go.”

Sometimes I think that the exact arrangement of my blog topics are a sign from somebody above us. It seems like whenever I’m putting the pieces together, whenever I’m going through ideas in my head about what I’m going to discuss every week, something happens to really spark the conversation. I wanted to write a blog about break-ups, about letting people go, about moving on from people that sometimes, just aren’t good for you. Sometimes it’s your significant other, sometimes it's a friend you’ve had for years, and sometimes it’s someone even closer. Sometimes there’s people you’ve known for years and you wake up one day to realize that you just don’t know them anymore.

It can be strange the way those things happen but I’ve got to tell you, I’ve gone through it a lot and I haven’t been around that long. And I sat across the table from that woman and I thought to myself, “I understand you.”

Letting go doesn’t mean you don’t care about someone anymore. It’s just realizing that the only person you have control over is yourself. –Deborah Reber

You know, I honestly have a really hard time letting people go. I don’t know if it’s because I always had a social worker nature before I even learned what one was or if it’s because I just have difficulty giving up on people. In my relationships, and even in some of my friendships, it’s been really hard for me to just throw up the peace sign and leave. Even when things were really difficult, even when people cheated and lied, when I got knocked around during arguments, or when I caught my friends doing really scandalous things that were seemingly impossible to come back from. Even during those moments, I continued to try and work on things because I don’t like the idea of moving on from someone out of anger. I don’t like the feeling that I have unfinished business, that I allowed my cold, German temper to get the better of me, or that I didn’t give the other person the chance to say whatever it was they needed to say.

It's something I’ve struggled with for pretty much my whole life. And honestly, maybe that’s why people take advantage of me. Maybe that’s why, in my previous romantic relationships, the men in my life knew that they could continually act like animals because I wouldn’t just leave in a huff. I was never one of those people who would pack my things furiously and leave with a half-clasped suitcase. I would give them about a million chances before I would seriously leave in a huff and even then, after a few days of cooling down, they probably knew that I would hear them out. Even if I was still really angry, I would give the other person a chance to speak.

Unfortunately, in those cases, I’m pretty predictable.

And honestly, in my defense, in most situations, I usually calm down after a few days. Something about my personality just settles down when I’ve had some time to just let things lie. There have been times when I’ve had arguments with people and I’ve been really, really angry. Typically, I try not to say anything back because I don’t like saying things out of anger that I might regret. (And honestly, I think that sometimes people misinterpret that as me backing down. And I can’t really say it’s about that; I just don’t like to spend my time being miserable and arguing about things that just continue to go back and forth.)

During these moments of radio silence, when I’m still really irate, I think about all the things I’m not going to do. I’m not going to text them first. I’m not going to answer if they message me. I’m going to give them some time to sit and think about what they said or did to me. And honestly, being angry is kind of an unseasonable trait for me. I don’t like being that way and quite frankly, I’m not comfortable in that state. It just isn’t me.

So I sit and think about my anger, how undeserving these people are of my relationship, and how stupid it is that I’m even upset about it. I go around and around in my head saying that they clearly don’t respect me and ipso facto, I need to just move on with my life, right?

But then time goes on and I eventually stop caring so negatively about it. It isn’t that I don’t care anymore, necessarily, but that I’m just past the point of being angry. At that point in my “anger stage”, I think that the other person could probably get whatever they want from me. Because once I’ve had time to think about it and be cold for what I feel is an appropriate amount of time, I’m over it. Maybe I haven’t forgiven them entirely, maybe I’m still a little miffed at their behavior, but it’s not consuming me. I could easily discuss it ad nauseam and move along past it. And again, maybe that’s why it’s always been so easy for people to take advantage of me.

Because quite frankly, I’ve always had better things to do with my life than hold a grudge.

Ever since I was little, my mom used to call me her “happy medium kid”. My sister was always either way up or way down. She was either beaming with sunshine, doing roundoff backhandsprings and cheering for her favorite football team or ready to murder your grandmother for a cheeseburger. She had no in between level and honestly, she’s gotten better but she’s still pretty much like that.

Myself, on the other hand, I’ve never been one of those people that gets really happy or really sad. I’m kind of always in the middle, just coasting along and trying to figure things out. I don’t get really stuck on things and fall into deep depressions. I just get irritated, distracted by something else, and then get over it. I don’t jump up and down and bounce off the walls with energy, I’m just always kind of an average, somewhat jittery, coffee drinking ball of anxious energy. You wouldn’t look at me and think I was ever really excited unless I came right out and said it. I’m just always a “happy medium”, I’m always in a relatively good mood, and when I do get angry or irritated, it doesn’t last much longer than like, twenty minutes.

I don’t have really bad days or really good days. Every day to me just feels normal; sometimes good things happen and sometimes crappy things happen. And to be honest, I kind of love that about myself. I don’t like when things are “eventful”. And thankfully, I don’t have a lot of people in my life who contribute to my days being all crazy anymore.

Love is blind and little did I know, you were just another dead-end road, paved with pretty lies and broken dreams. –Julie Roberts, Break Down Here

And maybe it’s because of this likelihood to be a little more laid back and on a relatively even keel that I am sort of relentlessly forgiving. Perhaps it’s because of this even-tempered nature I’ve always possessed that I have a really hard time just letting go of people. I can’t even tell you the amount of times that I’ve sat around and thought about where things went wrong in prior relationships and friendships, how many times I’ve gone back and assessed my reaction to the situation, how many times I played it all in my head over and over again to ensure that I responded in the exact way I would have genuinely wanted to.

Sometimes I look back, and I’ll be honest, I think that maybe I overreacted. Sometimes I think that I let my anger get the better of me, that maybe I got upset about things that probably weren’t so important. Especially in my younger days, I think to myself that maybe I got a little headstrong because with my history, I seemed to be really hypersensitive. But then other times, especially in the last few years or so, I think that I handled things exactly the way I would have if I had an unremittingly clear head. I didn’t react impulsively. I didn’t cuss anyone out. I didn’t turn something into nothing.

I just refused to be mistreated. And I’m okay with that reaction to bullshit behavior. I think it’s totally acceptable.

I have a couple of friends who are in this sort of back and forth relationship where they really struggle with the idea of walking away. And it doesn’t matter how difficult or ridiculous things seem to get; they have a serious battle with themselves on whether or not to just leave the relationship. It could be that the person habitually cheats or is just generally a crotchety douche bag. It could be that they have an over-entitled sense of self and seem to treat their girlfriends like they’re worth nothing. It could be that there’s a lot of power and control in the relationship, bordering on domestic violence, and that they have a habit of beating up on their girlfriends, whether it’s physically or emotionally.

I’ve seen it all, friends, and just like I’ve stated in my multiple domestic violence blogs, I know there’s tons of underlying reasons why these people don’t leave. And who am I to judge? I was one of those women for a very long time. For me, it was partly all of the stereotypical domestic violence stuff: I was warped into thinking no one would ever “love me” like he did. I was under the impression that even if I got out from under him, he would never back down, never leave me alone. I was afraid to leave a set of problems that I was already cognizant of for a bunch of new ones with a different person who could have been much, much worse.

But there were other reasons too, that had nothing to do with domestic violence. Even though my relationship was chaotic, scary and absolutely crazy, in a weird way I felt safe in it; because I was comfortable there. I had a bunch of friends that were in his group of friends and since they had basically taken me in from day one, I never had to try and find an outside support system. (I now know that this was just an isolation tactic but to be honest, it didn’t feel like one at the time. It felt like I was part of a big, close-knit family. And to be fair, all of his friends were good to me.) And even though my relationship was not safe at all, and not in the slightest bit healthy (I cannot stress that enough), I knew what I was getting with him. I always had a date to go to weddings with, I always had a person to go to dinner rendezvouses with, and I always had someone who I could plan my hypothetical future with. And even though it sounds absolutely ludicrous, given the way I’ve so often described him, it was nice to have a built-in support system, even though, quite honestly, he sucked at life.

I get it, friends. I used to always tell myself the same things that my friends have told me when I’ve all but demanded a repercussion for their idiot boyfriends. A garbage boyfriend is better than none at all. I know what I’m getting with him. Why would I want to trade one set of problems that I’m familiar with for another one that I’m going to have to start all over and learn with a new person? He’s tall enough to wear whatever heels I want, he’s probably as close to the most handsome as I’ll ever get, and he has a great job. And the biggest of all, he has promised me that things will be different.

And you know what? I’ve thought a lot about that. I have a friend who is going through a tough time right now. I know that by definition, what happened between them was probably what I would absolutely consider domestic violence. Her gentleman counterpart got angry and he shoved her, not once but twice. He didn’t hit her or severely batter her, he doesn’t have this crazy controlling nature (not anything that I would consider out of the ordinary, anyway), and he left before things could escalate any further. But she was understandably angry and to be fair, I have no idea how I would have handled the situation if it were me. But I did what any good friend does: I listened to her, I let her tell me whatever she was comfortable telling me, I gave her some safety plan ideas and I told her to watch my video on domestic violence.

But the more and more that I started to think about it, the more I started to realize something. 

Domestic violence advocate or otherwise, I can’t say that I would just up and kick my husband out of the house if the same thing had happened. I can say with confidence that my husband would never do that because he has way less of a temper than my friend’s significant other does. But the reality is that we have no way of knowing what would really happen until we’re actually put in that situation. And to be brutally honest, my husband and I have an amazing relationship, free of problems or distrust. So if the same thing happened to me, where he sort of restrained me or maybe shoved me out of anger, I don’t know that I would send him packing.

I know, spoken like a true survivor of domestic violence. All the women empowerment people are probably rolling their eyes so hard right now. But if there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s being honest.

I would be absolutely angry and hurt and probably unable to look at him for a long time. But after almost a decade of perfection, I don’t think I would just give up on him. Maybe, if it were me, I would try to figure out what brought us to that point. Maybe I would try counseling, maybe I would ask him questions about what he was thinking to make him react that way, maybe I would even assess myself and try to figure out why I couldn’t see how erratic he was getting. But there again, some people go from zero to Ike Turner in one second.

And the same could be said for cheating or just general douche baggery. I can’t say that one incident would make me stop and rethink our relationship. So in all fairness, how could I expect my friends, or anyone else to do the same thing? Especially when the man that you’re telling yourself you really love and want to be with is maintaining that he will change, that he will man up and stop acting like a prepubescent child, and that you’ve been through too much together to just pack your things and leave.

It’s all those little things that seem to keep us here. And when I sit back and think about how much I’ve put into my relationship, how strongly I feel about my husband and the life we share, and how much I just really love the absolute shit out of him, I think it would be really difficult for me to just sever all my ties with him. And while I seem to suffer from this chronic issue of the inability to let people go, I think that’s sometimes it’s because those people are important. That despite whatever nonsense might have occurred throughout the relationship, or even if it was only just once, they are staples to your well-being. And naturally, if the relationship is absolutely toxic and probably going nowhere, it’s probably time to figure out an exit strategy. But sometimes, people just make really, really stupid mistakes.

Moral of the Crazy: I guess I’m just saying that I understand how difficult it can be to let go of people. I think a lot of it has to do with the hope we have in other people, the amount of pressure we inwardly put on them to be better people, and the reality that we really believe they can be their best self. When you really value someone as an individual, it’s hard not to have a lot of faith in them. So naturally, when things turn sour, it only seems like a positive prospect to assume things will get better. It seems like the next natural step is to evaluate the issues and make a plan to move on. And maybe if problems do progress, as they did in my previous relationship, a person’s heart deadens a little bit; maybe something that seems really horrible to the outside world doesn’t seem so detrimental when you’ve been conditioned to bad behavior. Maybe in those situations, it’s like people always say, you take the bad with the good.

I have another girlfriend who was in this style of relationship for a lot of years. I have to tell you that she is one of the most romantic individuals I personally have ever met. She’s extremely brilliant, a really avid reader who prides herself on being more than just a pretty face. She is startlingly intelligent with a vivacious attitude to learn and step out to discover new things. She’s never been afraid to just hop on a plane and find an adventure because she knew that in following her heart, things would always work out. She’s a free spirit who’s still very practical, a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve, and someone who posts the best ardor quotes on Instagram that I have probably ever seen. Every time I read one, I fall in love with my life all over again.

She was on and off with this man for a bunch of years. And while I always thought he was kind of a waste of space, she really saw something in him. And it has to be said that you can never tell how people are behind closed doors. What I see as an insensitive man child may actually be a really amazing individual who keeps his light under a bushel. Maybe he reserved his kindness just for her, although I sincerely doubt it.

They went back and forth for a lot of years. One moment he was allegedly enamored with her, claiming that he would do whatever he had to do and change whatever he had to change in order to be with her. The next, he would lose all self-control. He would cheat on her, leave her at the apartment they shared every single weekend while he went out perusing the greater Clearwater area with his single male friends, and whine about her asking him to take her to the market the next morning. One moment he couldn’t live without her, the next he was on Tinder begging for attention from random concubines.

I never understood it and I would get frustrated, not that they were together and she continually gave him chance after chance, but that he would treat her like some idiot that he could just lie to and cheat on. It wasn’t that she wanted things to work out between them because I could understand all of that; they had a history, she was a romantic, she had given up a lot of other men to be with him, multiple times (seriously, they were knocking down the door and they were all really attractive and awesome), and she didn’t want to be standing there at 30 or 35, wishing that she had just stuck it out once more. I understood it all but every time she would run back to him, I would get irritated. Because she deserved better.

And you know, to clarify, I hate using the phrase “run back to him” because that’s never what had happened. She was always really good at staying strong, because she has a cold temper like I do. She was totally fine with suffering in silence, reading her books and going on dates with men she probably wasn’t wild about to pass the time. She had a good support system, as far as friends, and she always immersed herself in working because she has one of those personalities that gets bored if she sits idle too long. It would be inaccurate to say that she sat around waiting for him, that she begged for him to try again, or that she refused to move on because there was a slight chance he would return.

She did move on. A bunch of times. And honestly, she was unhappy about it but I think she was fine without him. It probably wasn’t what she wanted because hello, she loved him, and even though I personally thought he was a total man child, she wanted it to work out. Because why would she waste her time caring about someone that she planned on abandoning after a few months? She just isn’t that kind of individual. She plays for keeps.

And you know what? I really like that about her. She’s steady, she’s sensible, and she’s probably a really great girlfriend despite how he always made her out to be.   

So assuming that she just “ran back to him” over and over again would be damaging to her character. What happened was, she loved him. She loved him enough to look past all the nonsense he was incessantly engaging in. She loved him enough to realize that even though he had [a shit load of] flaws, he had a lot of [allegedly] great things going for him too. She loved him enough to trust in him when he said that he would change and she loved him enough to give him the chance to do so. And sure, she did it a few times. Probably more than I would have at this point in my life. But if anything, I think that says so much about her as a person.

She is forgiving, she is kind, and she is willing to accept people as they are. She doesn’t judge, ridicule, or harp on things that happened five years ago. She’s open to fresh starts and she’s open to progression. Maybe I’m biased because I love her to death but I don’t see that quality in many people. A weaker person would have long since told him he was a piece of garbage and left. An impatient person wouldn’t have cared enough to wait around for positive changes.

The reality is that refusing to give up on someone certainly isn’t a crime. It’s not something that characterizes a person as weak, inferior, or allegedly willing to put up with a bunch of bullshit. Sometimes when you really care about someone, you’re just willing them to be better people. Sometimes when you care enough about another person, you want them to be successful and if that means forgiving them and giving them the tools to better themselves, then so be it. And maybe that’s what love is really about.

Originally, my plan for this blog was to go on and on about break-ups. I wanted to really discuss the breakdown of a relationship, to really delve into what thought processes take place when a person wants to move on. Because honestly, sometimes it is really hard. Sometimes, no matter how destroyed a relationship is, no matter how terrible you know the other person is for you, it can be really hard to just throw your hands in the air and leave. Love is like a drug.

But the more I started to think about it, the more I realized that sometimes it’s more than that. Sometimes it’s not that the person is pathetic or a pushover. Sometimes it’s not that their unwillingness to give up on the person they love makes them unwise for thinking it could ever work out. Sometimes it’s not just that they’re dating some insensitive, abusive asshole who’s taken advantage of them far too many times and they’re just too stubborn to leave a broken relationship.

Sometimes it’s just that they’ve got a little bit of hope in their heart.

I’m not saying that everyone deserves a second or third chance. I’m not saying that men who habitually engage in poor behavior should just be given multiple options to allegedly rectify their relationship. And I’m not saying that every terrible person will change if given the proper utensils. I’m just saying that maybe, instead of belittling people for trying to work things out, instead of harping on the fact that nothing will change and a garbage individual is just going to stay as they are, maybe we should embrace the fact that some people can change. Maybe we should rejoice in the fact that there are people out there who refuse to give up on the people they care about, no matter how much they’ve been hurt by them. Maybe we should respect those people for sticking around when nobody else would have.

And maybe, just maybe, sometimes, we should just hope for the best.

She took a step and didn’t want to take anymore, but she did. –Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

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