I Wrote, For The Man I Couldn’t Let Go

I Wrote, For The Man I Couldn’t Let Go

When Miriam first came to see me, she had a lot to say and feel. But I knew very quickly we were meant to work together. Watching her grow in her 8 weeks with me was such a blessing. The one thing I saw in her from the moment I met her was her inner leader.

It was after she took a big risk with a man that I knew it was time to nudge her to write about it and share her experience. What I didn’t know was how eloquent of a writer she is.

I am honored to share it with you. It’s honest. It’s beautiful. And it’s real. I edited it a bit, but as a writer I know what it is to infuse emotional resonance into a story and to write in a such a way that exactly how it is written is how it is mean to be read for the story to be felt. Like how certain words are capitalized when grammatically they shouldn’t be. She’s making a point with her choices in sentence length, word style, and flow.  Miriam turns out to be a natural genius at this. If you read carefully you can see the clarity and awareness she has in her own instictual feelings and intiution, I wish I could say she learned it all from me, but that would be giving me too much credit. Let’s just say I allowed her space to bring it. I loved getting to witness this part of her.

This is her experience. A snapshot of a real moment in time when she let her voice and soul roar. She wrote it for herself first, and also for you, in hopes that you gain clarity, insight and confidence to speak your own voice and follow your heart. 

This is her story of honest beauty and courageous soul.

I Wrote, For The Man I Couldn’t Let Go

Written by Miriam Chavira


Breaking Through:

It was a moment of insight when I sat across the pleasant woman I met a day ago. We sat there at the brewery restaurant and since it was past 9pm, it was chips and salsa with a bottle of red wine and a sample of Colorado’s mountain brews.

She asked me in her terms, “What is it about this man that has you like this?”

I just sat there, surprised at the question. She shared about her husband and how she knew he was the one she wanted.

“How does he challenge you to grow as a woman?”

The question hit me like a rock.

That’s it. THAT is it. He challenged me to become ME.  Maybe it was him, maybe it was life, the Universe, God, but in no specific terms he inspired me to be more ME. He pushed buttons in me that no other man had pushed.  He made me question my sense of self, my existence, my womanhood. His mysterious stance, his pragmatic personality, his unavailability, his nonchalant way of being, and his subtle yet humbling rejection of me were the final parts of the myriad of stumbling blocks that challenged me in to the fire; the quest to find my worth….

I had to throw myself in to it FULLY now.

No more dancing around the perimeters of it.

I had to take it in.  Breath it in. Show up for it.

Soak myself in it.

And maybe one day, even thank him for it.

 

So Now, My Turn:

It had to be done. There was no question about it. It was no longer a matter of choice.

This was the next step. I felt it in my bones.

I knew all the work I had been doing would eventually lead me to this- if I was to stay true to myself and my new path.

Every time it was brought up with Lauren, I knew the answer to the questions I asked. I just didn’t want to face them.  “Should I contact him?”

“Is it for you or for him?” She’d simply reply.  I wanted her to make it easier somehow. To give me some wise insight that would miraculously free me from the wanting, from the responsibility of dealing with any hurt that may follow what needed to be done.  I hid from the answer to her question because I knew that if I answered truthfully, I’d have to take action.

Today, I was finally ready to face the answer

head on.

“So now, your turn.”  She said….

Stalling myself as much as possible, I made it to ‘That Time”.  Maybe I could do this tomorrow?

“No!”  My inner little girl begged.  “You’re going to chicken out of this too? You’re going to remain quiet again just because you’re SCARED?!  You’ve done this all your life, you know, and probably for many other lifetimes.  You just let your desires pass you on by, you even wave at them!  Sadly, crying by the sidelines, wishing things were different. Remember the boys you had a crush on in school? That you never moved a muscle for? You just sang your heart out to sad love songs for them, totally waving them by as they went, without moving a muscle.  Staying true to your story that you didn’t deserve that, or that they would never date you. You were just not pretty enough, skinny enough, good enough.  You made up all these stories. And now you’re going to keep believing these 3rd grade stories?”

Courage:

Breath in from my womb, stay in my body.  My hands were shaking when I finally pulled the car in to my usual “sitting” spot at the park.

I breathed and felt. I breathed and felt.

Overwhelmed at times, shaking, distressed.

A wreck.

I wrote in my journal- what do I really want to say? I wrote without filter.

It wasn’t much.

But that half page was my Death’s Door.

Death was pounding on it.

Loudly.

I could no longer ignore it.

I’ve come this far…..

Mind chatter: Wait-maybe it’s too late. It’s 9:05. It’s too late.  I have to get past these emotions first, I can’t call him like this. I need to be 100% with myself to do this. Wait, then I’ll never do it. Ok, call. Maybe he won’t answer, and then I’ll have to text, that will be much easier…..

But my hands were faster than my thoughts – I heard his “Hello” on the 2nd ring.

I froze. I asked if it was too late to call, hoping he’d say he was busy, or that yes, 9:15 was way past his bedtime.  He said he was driving.

“Can you come by the park?” I heard myself ask, knowing that question did not originate from the me in this world.

There’s no turning back now….

He came, and I felt him nervous as he walked to me.

Shoulders back, chest puffed, head somewhat to the side.

I felt a tug to hug him but opted to not, and he accepted that and simply stood, next to me.

We rode in his truck, catching up the past eleven months.   He changed the music to what he thought I would like, Of course.

But then I remembered that I no longer liked it.

He wanted to climb up the park’s tower and I followed, enjoying this moment with him, Forgetting the world.

We stood face to face, he asked, “So why did you call me tonight?”

Before I could answer he came closer to me, “Because I wanted to see you”

and he reached in to kiss me.

Time stopped.

And I could breath.

Vulnerability:

Remnants of my former self wanted me to remain quiet.

To just be there, forget it all,

let things unfold,

leave things unsaid,

and just soak in being in the reverie

of his arms around me,

looking up at his face,

smelling his chest,

his chin on my head.

But I spoke.

I told him the truth.

My truth.

My memory is now a bit tangled, and I can’t recall my exact words, but I think I said something about unfinished business between us.

He looked confused for a moment. I told him I had decided to be true to myself, and now that I know what experience I want to have with a man, I hoped he could be that man.

I told him I did not know what that experience would look like, what that even meant, but that I wanted to spend time with him, talk, connect.

I told him he pushed buttons in me that no man has pushed before.

That I kept feeling these ties to him.  And at times I felt his too.

I told him I decided to share what I’m wanting, and he may or may not be that.

But at least I will now know for sure.

We backed away as we spoke, arms across chest.

Protection.

I heard the fear of hurting me in his voice. He was reluctant to reply. He searched for words.

And then I told him he didn’t have to say anything. What? But I’d been wanting him to “Say Something” for months.

No really, now he didn’t have to.

But he did. And he interpreted my needs in his own way.

In what he knew, based on the past.

He was not ready for a relationship, he said, and judging from the past, he was afraid history would repeat itself with us.  He said he still didn’t know what he wants, really,

he’s confused,

and maybe he’s waiting for something to fall on to his lap

…but he does know he wants to have fun, party, hang out.

He mentions go dancing.

We used to dance.

He didn’t know how. He admits that.

And we laughed.

He wants all this, but not a relationship.

He can’t be there for that.

 

I Let Him Think What He Thought:

What I got from that is this: He thinks I’m not safe ground for him.

Not when he does not want a relationship. Because he sees me as a relationship-type of woman. He can’t just have fun with me.

Because I’m not that type.

My company is welcomed, but too risky.

A risk he is not willing to take.

He sensed my longing for him, back then.

He sensed my longing for him now.

Sadness came over me and I felt my face change…. And I let him think what he thought.

 

We came down the park tower.

And inside I felt those women that had been on the passenger side of his truck.

I felt them all for an instant. And more when he looked over to check my reaction, asking if I was ok. I told him I had been ready for anything.

Because this really was not about him anymore, but about me.

He said that was the most mature thing he’s ever heard, surprised I was not hysterically demanding an explanation.

Because he’s been through this many time before, he said. He’s broken hearts before, he said.

Yea, I know this. I felt this.

 

But then I had to stop myself from talking.

I had to ask myself, why am I still talking right now?

 

I did not try to convince him….Convince him that I wanted to experience him

in the way I pictured us, to see for myself if he could be THAT man I saw in him.

But my job was done. His mind was made up.

It was not my job to change it.

He was not seeing in himself the same man I had seen,

next to me,

in my mind.

There was nothing left for me to do there.

Clarity:

There were things that I could not ignore, like the possibility that I had outgrown this man. The fact that there were some conflicting interests now, and it was mine that had changed. The possibility that maybe he was not at all the man I wanted to have in my life now.

The possibility that he had physically met an idea and the rest of him had been constructed by my mind.

The possibility that he may never understand the difference between a woman who needs him

and a woman who wants him, a woman who picks him.

But maybe that was not for him to understand,

it was only for me to figure out.

And then there was the other parts. The parts that he continues to have all these admirable goals for himself. He wants to achieve, he wants a home, he wants to feel appreciated.

And those parts that include the feelings of being next to him.

Feeling secure in his arms.

Feeling him so much bigger than me, sheltered from the cool breeze by his arms wrapped around me. My head on his chest, leaning in to his strong, hard body.

The fears of not finding a man like this anywhere, ever.

And the fears of him actually being that man

holding my hand

in my imagination.

 

Anew:

One of the hardest and wisest things you’ll ever do as a woman is to tell a man that you want him in your life.

And risk it all.

It’s vulnerable. It’s humbling. It’s painful.

It’s another milestone reached in the journey of staying true yourself when you finally feel your inherent worth as a woman and want to stay true to what you want.

When you want to honor yourself,

when you make amends to yourself and the inner little girl you’ve ignored all your life.

It’s another layer removed that’s been hiding the light that is finally coming through from underneath all the darkness.

Things like this happen only when you’ve fully committed yourself to your deepest desires, to your embodiment of the powerful woman that you feel emerging from the muck.

Only when you are fed up with suffering and wondering. 

Only when you start accepting yourself fully.

Only when you start loving, embracing, and forgiving those parts of you that at some point you decided were not worth heeding to. 

Only when you truly want what you want.

You know this is a breakthrough when it is no longer about the other person,

but about You.

 

So, what now?

What comes next?…..

I don’t know.

And somehow now, I could breath in this uncertainty.  I can flow with it.

Let it take me where it may.

 

-Miriam

 

AboIMG_0335ut Miriam

I am Miriam Chavira. A health advisor, a mother of two, a daughter, the older sister of 4, a stowed singer. Who just recently reclaimed her value, took back her feminine power, and now works to embrace vulnerability and the thrill found in writing stories and songs as a child. I am a woman wholeheartedly committed to being more present with me, more aware of the value of just existing, while embracing my feminine body and soul and expressing my gifts, whatever they may be, creatively in this world. I want to empower others to move through their “stuff” so that they can uncover and retrieve what’s been tucked away and know their true essence, their true worth, their true wants and desires.  I want to help them know first hand that they are whole, loved, supported, and guided everyday, and that they can fully experience that knowing when they take a moment to be here, in their bodies, notice, and feel.

1 Comment

  1. Such divine timing for me to read this, thank you Miriam for writing so vulnerably and thank you Lauren for all that you are,

    with love,
    Jane

    Reply

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *