When we bring people into our world — platonically or romantically — it always starts out with such hope. A dance, a song, a discovery. Like new shoes, we prudently try them on for size. We let them settle in for a while. See how they fit, see if there’s any give and take, make sure the framework for compatibility and happiness exists somewhere in the nitty-gritty.

In this department, I’ve become more finicky than Seymour the Cat because I know how quickly things change. The shoes get tight. Everything’s a constant struggle, an ordeal, a mental minefield. And whatever once brought you together is now rudderless, as if its purpose has run its course.

I’m not proud to say when it comes to relationships, I’ve failed more than I’ve succeeded. Like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride, my sneakers were always parked at the door ready for that last-minute sprint. After suffering years of personal setbacks where my self-esteem took up permanent residence on the floor, I got so tired of saying yes when I really wanted to say no. Somehow it just felt easier. Safer. And maybe even a little less lonely.

It’s difficult diving into the wreckage where deep anxiety and uncertainty prevent us from being the best version of ourselves. When our relationships fail, we question everything. We pull apart; we break down that very core we’ve spent a lifetime building.

And it’s not pretty.

There’s no shortage of wrong people. The same people we invite in time and time again. The narcissistic, the judgmental, the uncompromising individuals who leave us wondering what the hell were we thinking? Why didn’t we see how toxic they were right from the beginning?

Perhaps we’re not supposed to.

Nothing happens to us by accident. Everything has a reason. The people that cross our path, the experiences we have, are all meant to be.

Whether positive or negative, consciously or unconsciously, from the most seemingly insignificant meeting to the greatest tragedy, these are the things that color our world and shape us into who we become.

                                                                              *     *     *     *

During my last year of college, I fell in love with an American medical student living in Guadalajara, Mexico. After my graduation, I moved to Mexico without a second thought. In the beginning, everything was magical. Playing house, cooking together, getting stoned, the beaches, the margaritas, the lazy idyllic flow of a world running on a different clock.

As the months passed and his studies took up more and more of his time — rightfully so — I began to feel lonely. Although I had a small network of friends and a part-time baking business that otherwise kept me busy, it didn’t stem the growing gap between us; which he did nothing to correct.

From there, things went south. We fought 50% of the time over stupid things and the other 50% interminable silences forced me deeper into this cocoon of loneliness I’d created for myself. The writing on the wall couldn’t have been clearer. And yet, there I was like a block of wood unable or unwilling to admit defeat, not then, not when I was so far from shore and some remote part of me still honestly, stupidly believed he was “the one.” That took a little while longer.

My dream became a prison of my own making. Misplaced desires blinded me from seeing what was real and making me forget what I was worth.

I’ve often wondered what road my life would have gone down if tenacity wasn’t front and center of almost every decision I’ve made. Would I be the background in someone else’s life? Would I have eventually been able to stand on my own? Although I had spent much of my life trying to steer clear of these huge pitfalls that come with the territory, every now and again, I fell in them anyway.

I believe the searching and the maintaining of these human connections can often come with a hefty price tag as we navigate through life, figuring shit out, learning who we are and what we’re made of. The mistakes, the wrong turns, the bumbling around eventually highlight for us the simple truth that not everyone will fit inside our circle. Not everyone will share our sense of right and wrong, what love is, or isn’t.

And you know what? That’s okay.

“Tell me with whom you associate, and I will tell you who you are.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Life’s a messy business. That’s okay too as long as we remember we alone get the deciding vote on who we invite in and if we want to surround ourselves with those willing to show up for us and keep showing up for us, we must be brave enough to do the same.

So, yes, people leave all the time. But the ones who truly love you … stay.

Photo: Author artwork