Ain’t Really Love

I’ve lived on this earth for 37 years, and I’ve never known what it feels like to have a man’s fist hit my body. I’ve never had to run from a man out of fear, nor have I had a situation where I feared for my life because of something that has transpired between me and the man that I was in a relationship with.

Maybe I should preface this by saying that I am a screamer and a yeller. I’m one of those chicks that gets in your face and throws things, and calls you names and pushes buttons galore, but never have I ever been hit. Is that luck? Or have I associated myself with men who were raised to know that you never raise your hand to a woman…ever? I would believe it is the second of these, because every man that I have ever been in a relationship with has been a strong man, and a man who knew himself. There was no amount of cussing or shouting that I could do to make them feel inferior, even if I tried (and I did try)…there was always something internal that kept them from crossing that irreversible line of violence.

And then I take a look at myself and wonder why I would go off the deep end like I did. Why would I yell and scream and throw stuff, instead of trying to calmly discuss my concerns? Because I was raised in a screaming, cussing, throwing stuff household, that’s why. My mother ruled our house with fear, and I thought that is the way it was. It’s not. Love does not ever equal fear, nor does it ever hit, or hurt, or cause you pain. I know that, and I’m glad that I didn’t have to learn that the hard way.

I am most glad that I know the difference between what is love and what ain’t love. Looking back on all of the lessons I’ve learned, this is probably the most important. Learning this has taught me what I will and will not accept; it has also taught me to look in the mirror and remember who I am when I’m confronted with something that goes against those internal warnings that we all have. It is easy for me to say this now at 37; but when I was younger, who knew all this? You sometimes have to walk through hell to get to heaven…and life teaches you lessons with age and maturity. No matter how much you listen to Mary J. sing a song, or listen to your aunts or your mom tell you stories, they don’t live your life…you have to walk your own path and accumulate your own life lessons. That is the only way you get stronger.

There is however one lesson that you don’t need to learn by going through it…no man who loves you will ever hurt you physically, or mentally. You can take that one to the bank. That ain’t really love.

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Peace…