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"Of course, sweetheart," she replied, her warm tone providing a small measure of comfort. "What's going on?"
"Mom, I'm just going to come out and say it. I don't know how to stop blaming your divorce for my trust issues," I confessed, my voice cracking. "It's affected my relationship with this guy I really like, and I'm terrified that I can't get past my thoughts about opening up. I feel so closed off and I don't know what to do. I might have lost him because of it. And I wouldn't be lying if I didn't think he was possibly the best thing to ever happen to me."
"Calla," she said softly, "I'm so sorry you feel that way. I'm happy to talk about it so that maybe, somehow, you can get past it. It's something that breaks my heart to know you even think about."
"Mom, it just feels like I'm worried that if I let someone in too far, they will leave me, or hurt me," I admitted, my words tumbling out in a rush. "I've been trying so hard to be open with him, but whenever he gets close, it's like there's this wall I can't break down."
"Calla, honey, I know how difficult this must be for you," my mother said gently. "But you have to understand that not everyone is going to hurt you. Your father and I may have had our issues, but that doesn't mean your relationships are destined to fail, too."
I let out a shaky breath and stared at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the plaster with my eyes. "How do I even begin to let my walls down, Mom? How do I know they won't turn around and use my vulnerability against me?"
"Sweetheart, trusting is a gift you should freely give," she replied patiently. "Expect it, and you'll get it. Expect someone to mess up, and you'll get it too. You've seen me get hurt, and I'm sorry about that. It sure hurts to hurt, but it hurts more not to love. Closing yourself off from the world is not what we're here to do. When we love freely, it comes back a million fold. If you get hurt, learn the lesson from it. But don't close up your heart, honey. Love like crazy! And remember, people make mistakes. It's important to communicate and forgive when necessary."
“I never thought I'd be taking relationship advice from my mom," I muttered with a humorless chuckle. "But seriously, thank you. I guess I just needed someone to talk to about all of this."
"Of course, Calla. I'm always here for you," she assured me. "Just remember that your past experiences don't have to define your future. You're strong, resilient, and capable of finding love and happiness. Don't let your fear hold you back." She sighed. "Your dad made some mistakes, but I have to take some responsibility for it happening."
"Mom! What dad did wasn't your fault at all! He was a scumbag, and if he wasn't my dad, I definitely don't think he would be my friend."
"It might not seem that I caused any of it, but when I look back, there were signs. Plus, I have to take the responsibility for choosing your dad. We were young, yes, but it was still my choice. There were red flags all over the place, but I was madly in love with him. Or, what I thought was love. When you take responsibility for things, you also realize you have the full capacity to change things. And that's powerful."
As we continued talking, I could feel some of the weight lifting off my chest. My mother's words were a balm to my wounded heart, and although I knew it wouldn't be easy, I was determined to take her advice and try to let go of my fear. Maybe, just maybe, if I could get back with Dominic, I would show him that I can be more open. I needed to give our relationship a fighting chance.
"Calla, I know it might be hard to believe right now, but I've been where you are," my mother confessed, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "After the divorce, I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to trust someone again, let alone fall in love."
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her statement. It was strange to think about my mother going through similar emotions and struggles as me, given that she always seemed so strong and put-together.
"Really?" I asked, genuinely curious. "How did you manage to move past everything?"
My mother sighed, and I could practically see her running a hand through her hair – a habit she had when she was deep in thought. "It wasn't easy, but eventually, I realized that holding onto the pain and fear from the past was only robbing myself of the chance to find happiness again. I had to take a risk and open up to the possibility of love, even though it was terrifying. And you know what? I realized that it felt so good to be open with others. Show them my real self and also accept other people for what they are. I live an amazing life now."
"So what happened? Did you meet someone?"
"Yes," she admitted, chuckling softly. "His name was Mark, and we met at a mutual friend's party. At first, I was hesitant to get too close, but over time, I began to see that he was different. He was patient, understanding, and kind. We took things slowly, and eventually, I found that I could open up to him, and even love him. And even when things didn't work out in the end, I'm okay. That's another thing. When you're open to love yet respect that everyone else has their right to love exactly how they want to, when it ends, it doesn't crush you. It's just like, 'next!' and you get excited for the next person you get to meet and get to know better. I love loving life like this. Your experiences just add to your wisdom. They don't hold you down. And, I love myself more."
"Wow, that's amazing," I murmured, feeling a mix of surprise and admiration for my mother's resilience. "But what if I can't do that, Mom? What if I'm just... broken beyond repair?"
"Sweetheart, nobody is beyond repair," my mother replied gently. "You are strong and capable of so much more than you realize. But you have to give yourself permission to heal and grow, even if that means facing your fears and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And it's okay if you don't get it right. It's okay to fail. Just get up and try again. It's just like learning any new skill. We just tend to be harder on ourselves and expect to get it right the first time, and no one gets it right the first time. Remember how long it took you to learn to tie your shoes?"
I laughed. I definitely took FAR too long on that. But I kept trying, and I finally got it. Now I don't even think about tying my shoes. "Maybe you're right," I conceded, feeling a small flicker of hope ignite within me.
"Calla, I have an idea," my mother said, her voice filled with determination. "Why don't you have lunch with me and your father? We haven't all been together in quite some time, and I think it could be an opportunity for healing and opening up to love. Not just romantic love, but also love of family."
The suggestion caught me off guard, and I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to face both of my parents at once. The thought of being in the same room with them brought back painful memories of arguments and tears, but deep down, I knew that I couldn't keep running from the past forever.
"Okay," I agreed, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "I'll do it. Let's have lunch together."
"That's great," my mother said softly, relief evident in her voice. "Can you make it today? I just so happen to be playing pickleball with your dad today, and we always go out for lunch. We can drive in to see you." Mom and Dad had moved closer to Boston over the years, but…
"You play pickleball? With Dad?" I exclaimed.
Mom laughed her comforting laugh. "I know it might take you by surprise, but we have become friends again. There is no chance in hell that we are going to have another relationship, but I forgave him and I also remembered why I chose him. He's a fun guy to be with, if a little self-focused. There's no doubt we just have fun together."
"Wow, I had no clue. I haven't talked to Dad in a while, but why didn't you tell me?"
"We just started talking like friends recently. I realized that we have a lot in common and he knows me like no one else does. I guess I was just taking it lightly and seeing how it all turned out. No need traumatizing you more." I could see the sense in that. "So, how about it? Are you in? I'm sure your dad would love to see you."
"Okay," I shrugged. "As long as you're okay with it."
