“I don’t know,” she said.
I didn’t know how, but I was determined to make her feel better.
For the next two weeks, Dennis and I showered Hedda with attention. We swam in the ocean, ate good food, and cuddled with the dogs. I tried to get her to join my yoga classes on the beach, but she always sat off to the side and just stared out at the water. For the first week, when I asked her questions, she gave me vague answers. A breakthrough came at the beginning of the second week.
“I don’t feel good at home,” she said one day. “I just feel sad, all the time.”
“I’m here for you,” I said. “Do you want to talk about where it’s coming from?”
She sighed and looked away. “No. I just want to be with you.”
Our time together passed too quickly, but it seemed to have done Hedda some good. By the time I took her to the airport to go home, she was tan and the scars on her arms had faded. She seemed lighter and happier.
“You’re okay, right?” I asked before she boarded the plane.
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “I just needed a break from everything. I’m fine.”
We said our I-love-yous and hugged good-bye. Watching Hedda walk to the gate, I felt a heaviness in the pit of my stomach.
“She’s fine,” Dennis said, trying to reassure me. “You saw how happy she was this last week. Everything is okay.”
“You’re right,” I said.
I felt I had done everything I could to make Hedda happy. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was enough.
Hedda was only back in Stockholm for a day when she tried to jump off a tall building. It took hours for the police to talk her down. When Mom called to tell me, something inside of me broke. The negative voice in the back of my head that I’d been able to keep at bay for so long came back, and with a vengeance. I had failed my little sister on an epic level. If I were a better sister, she wouldn’t have tried to kill herself. It was my fault that she wanted to die.
Hedda started seeing a therapist after that. I, on the other hand, decided it was time to start partying. I stopped meditating and spent a lot of time with new friends I’d met, clubbing and drinking. At first I went out once or twice a week, then I was at the bar every day. Dennis was perplexed. This was a version of me he had never seen before—it was a version of me I thought I’d let go of long ago. I felt like I was sixteen again, avoiding my feelings with bottles of tequila. He tried to keep up but always went home early. To be honest, I didn’t want him with me. I wanted to be alone with my new friends. Friends who didn’t know me and didn’t ask questions.
Dennis eventually stopped asking if I wanted him to come along. Rather than question me about what was going on, he became quiet and distant.
On the surface, I seemed to be having the time of my life—dancing, drinking, and partying every night. I told myself, I’m living the best of both worlds—just because I teach yoga doesn’t mean I have to be a purist! Deep down, I knew something was deeply off, but I refused to confront my pain and instead numbed myself with alcohol and other distractions.
As days turned to weeks, Dennis and I drifted further and further apart. Inevitably, I met someone else. He was a pretty average guy, the manager of one of the nightclubs I frequented. His name was Miguel; he was from Mexico but had spent the last couple of years in Aruba. He was a photographer; charismatic, fun, and, most important of all, “spiritual.” At least that was my perception. The one thing, if I had to find one, that I felt was missing with Dennis was a sense of spirituality. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy, feet on the ground, humble and down-to-earth, but he would never have called himself spiritual. He wasn’t into meditation the way I was, and he didn’t talk about things like the meaning of life the way Miguel did.
Over the course of the next two months, I got involved with Miguel. We spoke every day, texted, and met at the bar. I lied to Dennis about where I was and whom I was with. I was confused and sad. The further into the deep end with Miguel I got, the more I alienated Dennis. We stopped communicating and started fighting over little stuff. After weeks of my creating a bigger mess than I knew what to do with, my solution was to leave it all and run away. I told Dennis I needed a break to think things over. I wasn’t sure about our relationship anymore.
I went home to Sweden and spent most of the time there crying. I stopped communicating with Miguel and began having long talks with my mom. When I said I was contemplating breaking up with Dennis, she started to cry. “Oh, honey,” she said. “Please don’t make the same mistakes I did. You don’t have to run from love.
“Dennis is the best thing that has ever happened to you,” she said. “Maybe,” I replied. “I just don’t think he gets me. He doesn’t meditate; he doesn’t contemplate the universe like I do. I don’t know if this is right.” Mom didn’t mince words. “Are you crazy?” she asked, exasperated. “He is the most spiritual guy I’ve ever known! He doesn’t have to meditate—he gets it already. You don’t have to walk around contemplating the universe all the time unless you are unsure of it. Dennis isn’t unsure. He is here, present. You are just trying to find something wrong with him so you can run away.”
I wasn’t convinced. I told her about Miguel and our flirtation. She instantly became wary and cautioned me. “I want you to think very carefully about what you do next,” my mother said. “This decision is going to affect the rest of your life. This other guy . . . it’s an illusion. It’s not real. Intuitively, I know it’s wrong. Dennis is right for you. You know it. I know it. You’re meant to be together.”
For the two weeks I was in Sweden, I went back and forth about what to do. I spoke to Dennis once or twice. He was heartbroken. How did we go from being in such a good place to uncertainty and total mistrust? I felt guilty causing him so much pain. At the end of my stay in Sweden, I was no clearer about what I wanted, but a part of me had already settled on leaving him. I didn’t deserve him, I told myself. He’s too good for me. I should get back on the road, move to a new place, find a new guy. The evening before my flight back, I called. Dennis had changed from being sad and distraught to cold and distant. I heard laughter in the background. “Where are you?” I asked. “Out,” he said flatly. “With who?” I asked. “You left me, remember?” he replied bitterly. “Why do you even care?” I felt a tightening in my stomach. “I’m flying back tomorrow,” I said. “Back to what?” Dennis asked. “I don’t know,” I said. The line went quiet. “I’m not going to force you to stay with me,” Dennis said. “Do what you want to do.” His words stung. “Can you pick me up at the airport?” I asked. He paused before answering. “Fine,” he said. The line went dead.
My dad lived close to the airport, so I stayed with him the night before my morning flight. “What happened between you and Dennis?” he asked. “It’s just not working anymore,” I said. Dad wouldn’t let it go. “I don’t believe that,” he said. “Dennis is an awesome guy. You have been so happy with him. Could it be something in you that isn’t working anymore?” My father had hit a nerve. My face flushed with anger and I lashed out. “Who are you to give me advice?” I asked. “You have four kids with three women, and all of them hate you!” He looked stunned. I had hurt him deeply. “Maybe I don’t want that for you,” he said, his voice cracking. “Maybe there is something you can learn from my mistakes. Don’t be so quick to walk away from something that’s good.” Hot tears fell from my eyes. “Stop trying to get involved in my life,” I cried. “Just leave me the hell alone.” I ran upstairs, crying so hard I could barely breathe. How did I get here? I wondered. Again, I felt like a teenager. I was being totally unreasonable and I had nowhere to call home. No one to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. I’d never felt so alone.
At the depth of my despair, my computer pinged with a message. Dennis? I wondered. My jaw dropped when my eyes hit the screen. It was a message from Dennis’s ex-girlfriend Lauren. We’d never spoken before, but from what I had gathered, she absolutely hated me. Dennis had broken
things off with her to be with me and their relationship had ended very badly. Why was she writing me?
Hi Rachel,
I think I’ve started this e-mail a hundred times in the past few weeks and never had the guts to finish it. All I know is that I have to reach out to you or else I’ll give myself a big face slap. I treated you so meanly two years ago, when you met Dennis. I judged you, said awful things about you, and went behind your back and did a terrible thing. I didn’t know you and I thought you were ruining my life on purpose. And I want to apologize for all of that. I am so very sorry. After Dennis, I was so angry. I hated my life back home and I didn’t know what to do about it. I was looking for someone to save me from the awfulness that was my own life, and I felt like you ruined my chance and that it was all your fault (ohmigod, seriously. So immature of me). About 5 months after he broke up with me, I got tired of waiting for someone to rescue me, took a break from my job, traveled to Asia, and got certified to teach yoga (never intending to teach, only wanting to deepen my practice). And since then, in the past two years, I’ve really started looking at my life in a way that I never did before. I’ve started being open, and forgiving, and I’m trying to be more honest with myself. I’ve really started moving toward what I want. I’m working on creating a lifestyle that I love, in a place that I love, with a person that I love. It gets overwhelming at times, not knowing if this step is the right one, or the next step is the right one, or the one after that. But I know that I have to keep going in order to figure out what it is that I’m meant to do. And, oddly, if you never existed, and never had met Dennis, none of that would have happened. So why am I writing you? Because you inspire me so much. After I got done being mad, and realizing how much I needed to get my own shit together, I started looking at your Facebook page. You moved to Aruba and you’re making your own life. You did all of the things I wanted to do two years ago, but never had the balls to. And I want to say thank you. For constantly inspiring people all over the world, including myself, and for just being you. It’s so huge how you’ve grown your practice and the yoga community in Aruba. When I was there it was nonexistent and I remember bitching about it constantly. And there you go, not bitching, but doing something about it. I have been teaching yoga all summer to teenage girls, and have my first audition in an actual studio on Friday, which is why I was thinking about you. I have been feeling really called to teach lately, and I’m so excited (and nervous) to be given the opportunity. I know if it is meant to be, it will. And if it isn’t, there’s something else out there for me. Anyway, thank you so much for changing my life (for the better! Even though I didn’t know it) and, oddly, inspiring me far more than you may realize. I hope that we can be friends one day (is that weird? I think it might be a little weird. I don’t care). Your courage, your authenticity, and even your style are deeply inspiring to me. Part of me wishes I would have met you instead of Dennis, but the universe works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?
Lauren
I was stunned. Dennis’s ex-girlfriend was quite literally the very last person I ever expected to hear from. As far as I knew, she hated me. But here she was writing to me, telling me her story and sending me love. And she was following my Facebook page? I had started one dedicated to my yoga journey just a few months earlier, sharing my class schedule and posting some photos here and there. I couldn’t believe it. Somehow, she’d saved me from myself at exactly the right moment. I snapped out of my misery and wrote her back immediately:
This is so totally nuts. You have no idea. I don’t know where to start or what to say or what to do right now other than say thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. The reason you didn’t write me this email days ago is that I needed this so badly, at this exact moment. Not then. Now. I am in the worst space I have been in years, and tonight was the peak of three of the most difficult months I have ever gone through. It’s a fun little mix of family drama, alcoholism, and a pretty serious spiritual crisis. Fun stuff. Oh, and me and Dennis have broken up, or are breaking up, or something along those lines. Things are shit and I couldn’t take it so I ran away to Sweden for two weeks. I’m sure you’re not in any way interested in hearing about that and I won’t bore you with details, but the fact that you are writing me this now is amazing and beautiful and also so sad in a way that makes me want to cry. Tonight is my last night in Sweden and I’m in an even bigger mess now than when I left Aruba. I was literally sitting on my bedroom floor crying feeling completely useless and alone when my phone made a funny noise and it’s you. Of all people. Writing me these beautiful words and letting me in on your journey and the fact that somehow I have a part in it too. Reminding me that hard times are here for the best reasons, and we need them. I am so, so glad I have been an inspiration to you. You’re brave, and totally the cool chick I imagined you to be. I mean, anything else would be weird; we both fell for the same awesome guy. Actually, you’re the only one out of the two of us that didn’t steal him away, so I think you score way higher on the cool chick scale than I do. I know things were bad back then, and I didn’t know you and what happened wasn’t ideal. I’m sorry he hurt you, and reading this I am also so very happy that he did. All of my most important realizations and places of growth have happened thanks to really shitty and traumatic situations. I’ve been blessed with many of them, and I’ve learnt to accept and be grateful for the fact that they were there. Even if it hurt. Actually, the more it hurt the more I grew and eventually learned to let go, and I know that everything comes our way because we need it. Or, I used to know. I think I’ve forgotten this most important realization during these past months, and your email just helped to bring all of it back. If I didn’t need this pain it wouldn’t be here. I feel in no way inspiring or courageous or authentic right now sitting on a bedroom floor in a country that isn’t mine anymore, and I feel very very far away from the person you see in me. She’s in there somewhere though. Thank you for reminding me that this, too, shall pass. I’m so glad you’re here. Super fucking amazing that you are teaching! Really. If you feel it, it’s right, and you’ll nail the audition I’m sure. Just be you and your classes will rock. Dennis always said he thinks you and me would make the best friends. And now I think so too. Is it weird if we are? Probably. Yes. I don’t care. Thank you, for being so cool. I’m going to get up off this floor now.
Rachel
Something in me changed after that. I realized I had been living in a haze—I wasn’t actually living at all. How had I gone from living the best years of my life—with the love of my life—to creating such a giant mess? It was like a lightbulb went off in my head and I could finally connect the dots. After my sister’s attempted suicide, something inside of me had shattered. I’d spent the months since manifesting that hurt in everything around me, including the most valuable relationship of my life—with Dennis. Being a “rescuer” was so ingrained in my identity that failing my sister brought out every last piece of insecurity from deep inside of me. I had been self-sabotaging ever since, feeling like I wasn’t worthy of anything good. Getting that message from his ex-girlfriend, someone who should have absolutely disliked me, pulled me from the murkiness of my sadness and toward the light. There was a synchronicity to the universe and I’d completely lost sight of it. Her story brought me back. The guy she loved dumped her for me, and that heartbreak had sent her on a path that led to a beautiful life of abundance and love. Of course! I knew how it worked. Our most profound discoveries are sparked in darkness, if only we allow ourselves to see them. Dark times come to shake things up and give us the opportunity to get back on track.
It was suddenly clear to me that my flirtation with Miguel had nothing to do with wanting a relationship with him; not at all. Now I could see him in a realistic light and I was disgusted with myself. What road had I been walking down? I felt a fear grip my throat. I was close to losing Dennis. My reason for wanting to leave him—that he wasn’t spiritual enough—was far from legitimate. I had needed a reason to leave, and if not that,
I would have made up something else. My role since childhood had been that of savior. I was brought up with the notion that I was here to save my mother and that spread to everyone else. Yet I’d failed with my own sister. As a result of that failure, my self-worth was crushed. Subconsciously I’d decided I wasn’t worthy of happiness or love, so I sabotaged the best thing I ever had. Everything was falling into place. I could see it all so clearly. And now that it was clear, now that I understood what I was close to losing, I could fix it.
I landed in Aruba the next day and Dennis was waiting. Walking toward him, I knew everything I’d done over the past months was wrong. I dropped my bag and threw my arms around his neck. He pulled me in close. Both of us cried. I realized that ever since I’d met him, however close we were, I’d always had one foot out the door. That was my MO. I didn’t truly know how to stay in a relationship—a part of me was always looking for the next thing, the next step. I never felt like I could relax fully in one place. Hugging him at the airport, I felt his heart beat against mine. I almost destroyed the best thing I ever had. The thought was gut-wrenching, but somehow I knew then and there: we were going to be okay. I was going to make it all okay. He was the love of my life. Almost losing him brought an urgency to the relationship that I hadn’t felt before. I knew now that there was nowhere else I wanted to be except with him. I had been awakened. I wasn’t going anywhere, ever again. I was all in.
let go
9
* * *
MOVE
Dennis and I settled back into our life in Aruba, healing from the past months of uncertainty. It started off shaky, but with time our relationship grew stronger. Before our challenges, whenever someone would joke about us having kids or getting married, I would squirm at the thought of that kind of commitment. But now, the idea didn’t seem so ludicrous at all. Almost losing him woke me up, and brought me to some big realizations about my past and patterns that I’d carried with me into the present. Just because I’d moved a thousand miles away didn’t mean that the issues I’d struggled with had disappeared all of a sudden. My fear of commitment was right there under the surface all along, and had it not been for the challenges Dennis and I faced that year I would have found other ways to self-sabotage. I knew now: I’d been lucky enough to find the love of my life. I was never going to risk losing him again.
To Love and Let Go Page 9