My Fourth Heartbreak

Gabe and I might be moving to Winston-Salem. True to form, I've decided to process my thoughts via the written word. There are a lot of thoughts. I don't expect this post to be very organized. I'm just going to write it.

Gabe was offered a job last Friday after his third round of interviews.

When he started talking about the company before Christmas, a heavy weight flirted around the edges of my stomach. This might be the job, I thought. He sounded so excited when he talked about the company. He loved what they do (in a laywoman nutshell, they turn plastic bottles into what feels like cotton, to be made into socks, blankets, etc), he loved the way they've innovated, he loved their philosophy.

When he was offered the job, we went into analysis mode, doing the Classical Conversations version of a pros and cons list: an ANI chart. You take a "should" question (in this case, "Should Gabe take the job in Winston?") and in the A column, write reasons he should (affirmative), in the N column write reasons he shouldn't (negative), and in the I column, put things that aren't affirmative or negative but "Interesting." Then we made an ANI chart for a job with the company Gabe works for now as an intern.

We did this in Moe's, like the unashamed nerds we are.

Our charts were well populated. Both charts had a hefty list of A's. But as we drove home, before I even decided to speak, I was saying,

"Why are we even doing this?"

Gabe looked at me, small frown in his eyes.

"We already know you're supposed to take the job in Winston," I said. "We're just looking for reasons to dissuade us because we don't want to."

Gabe's eyebrows rose. "What? Really?"

"We both know it. Don't you?" I asked.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I just didn't know you felt that way."

"I know this feeling," I told him. "I've had it many times before. It's the feeling where I know what God is telling me to do, but I hold up other alternatives to him and try to get him to get on board with those instead. It never works. And when I finally do what he's leading me to do, it's always better than I could have imagined."

So this is where we are. As I type this, Gabe has not accepted the job. But after praying, and crying, and making lists, I don't think the feeling has changed. Sometimes I think maybe it has. Maybe STAYING is trusting God, because we don't have another active offer? Something could still come up and indicate that God is leading us to stay. But it hasn't yet, and I'm not sure it will.

I know God has only good things for us. I know that so deeply. I really believe that.

But this hurts so much.

I don't make friends easily, at all. I finally have friends here. We finally found a church that is Home. We love our pastor. We love our friends. We love what our church stands for. We finally became real members. We confide in these people. We trust these people.

These are the people I wanted to raise my kids with. (Man, this is what really makes me cry, every time I think about it, although I AM NOT PREGNANT.) These are the people I wanted to talk pregnancy stories with. These are the people I wanted to make us meals after I have a baby. These are the people whose kids I want my kids to grow up with. These are the people I would trust to babysit.

These are My People. How can God want us to leave our people? How can God want us to leave the church that has helped me to grow spiritually as an adult like I never have before? How can God want us to leave the church where I learned how to worship, for real?

I know God's heart is breaking with me. He knows the big picture, his good intentions, and he is still crying with me. He is right here in the grief, I know that. I know that God would never call us to do anything that wasn't for our good and his glory. If God wants us to move away from our home, then it's because he has something better for us. It may not even be better friends, or a better church; it may just be a better relationship with him. And if that's it, it will still be worth it.

I don't want this post to sound goody-goody, or even joyful and silver-liningy. I'm crying. I've been crying all day. My Eight heart hurts in ways I don't feel comfortable hurting. In ways that make me want to stop loving people. In ways that make me want to be angry instead of sad.

But I really do trust God. I really do trust my husband. I really do believe that if we're supposed to move, it will be a good thing, and one day I will look back—just like I do now with all the other things God told me to do that I didn't want to do—and know why he wanted us to do this.

But ow.

~Stephanie

All In

(Handy Reference Post)

"I'm all in, palms out, I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin.
I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in.

I'll shake the ground with all my might
I will pull my whole heart up to the surface.
For the innocent, for the vulnerable,
I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, I'll give my sweat,
An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken.
I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again,Invincible like I've never been."
~"Eight" by Sleeping At Last

Eights are intense. The songwriter of Sleeping At Last, Ryan O'Neal, says that "when Eights use the word 'all,' they really mean it."

When I finally decided that Gabe was safe—that he loved me and was trustworthy and would not exploit my vulnerability—I was all in. ALL in. Palms out, at his mercy, and ready to begin. Let's do this. Let's—honestly, let's both of us—get to know me. I'm open. I'm out there.

I became strong enough to let him in, which is the craziest thing I've ever done. And so far, I haven't regretted it.

I interpret the last two sections of the song as what an Eight—what I—can do: inflict (weird word choice, I know) incredible positive change on the world. When Eights are healthy, they shake the ground for all the right reasons: for the innocent, for the vulnerable. My own fierce protectiveness has the potential to shield people who need that. The sword I laid down to let Gabe through can be wielded on behalf of other people. 

Eights are theoretically awesome humanitarians, whether through an organization or just in their circle of friends. Healthy Eights show up on the frontlines with a purpose. They give all (ALL) they have: blood, sweat, an ocean of tears. They want to right the wrongs, protect the vulnerable. You want a healthy Eight on your side.

A completely healthy Eight, one who has pulled her whole heart up to the surface (which I think probably means being vulnerable with more than just one or two people), is invincible like she never could have been with her heart buried. Strong enough to be vulnerable. Strong enough to let people in. Strong enough to acknowledge how much about the world is painful to her.

The song builds to apex of intensity—a musical scream of power and love—before everything drops into silence, leaving the listener wondering, "Then what? THEN WHAT?" And the Eights of the world smile slowly and ask themselves,

"Yeah. Now what?"

And then they go and do it.

~Stephanie

Here's My Achilles Heel

(Handy Reference Post)

"I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart

And all I want is to trust you

Show me how to lay my sword down

For long enough to let you through.

Here I am, pry me open.

What do you want to know?

I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough

To hold the door shut

And bury my innocence

But here's a map, here's a shovel.

Here's my Achilles' heel."

~"Eight" by Sleeping At Last

Can we just take a moment and appreciate how hauntingly beautiful this verse is?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All Eights stand guard. Eights who have been burned by love stand guard with an extra sword.

For Eights, this is fine. This is how we are. This is how we prefer to be.

But then sometimes, someone comes along that we actually want to let in, and we realize in horror that we are less in control of that decision than we thought.

The beginning of being with Gabe was me standing guard, falling apart. All I wanted was to trust him. I had decided that he was (relatively, probably) safe and I wanted to trust him, to let him in. But I didn't even know how to do that.

For a long time, I would let him through only to stab him with my sword, then look down at it in horror and wonder why I had done that.

Show me how, I asked him. To lay my sword down for long enough to let you through.

He showed me inhuman patience, unconditional love, and fierce protectiveness for a long time. Eventually, slowly, I began to believe him. I was able to lay my sword down. (Not throw it a way, mind you. I'm not sure Eights can ever throw their swords away—nor do you want them to. We'll get to that in a later post.)

Even after I let him through, I didn't really "open up"; I just didn't stab him. There was a lot of—very welcome—prying open of my heart and mind.

The next line made Gabe laugh out loud when we heard the song a few months ago: "Here's a map, here's a shovel." He told me that was what I had done to him when I finally started to trust him. I had finally invited him to know me, but he was going to have to make the journey himself. I wasn't able to plop the treasure chest of Real Me in front of him. He'd have to follow a map and dig it up himself.

"Here's my Achilles heel."

The moment an Eight lets someone know the things that can hurt her is a strange one. If the Eight is anything like me, she will feel both totally exposed and ready to grab her sword again at the slightest twitch.

My Achilles heel isn't one specific thing, but sort of a state of my mind and heart, I suppose. However, even if I could narrow my Achilles heel down to one specific thing, I still wouldn't tell you here.

When an Eight reveals her Achilles heel and you don't shoot an arrow through it, everything changes.

~Stephanie

When I See Fragile Things

(Handy Reference Post)

"When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things

I see the familiar

I was little, I was weak, I was perfect too

Now I'm a broken mirror."

~"Eight" by Sleeping At Last

I never realized that my affinity for “cute things” was part of being an Eight.

I know that’s not exactly what these lines are referring to, but it is common for Eights to have a fixation with things that remind them of childhood innocence. Those of you who know me well know that I still sleep with my childhood stuffed animals (known as “bed friends”). While we were dating, Gabe once casually asked, “If we were to get married one day, would I be sleeping with your bed friends?”

I looked at him as if he’d asked if I planned to continue needing food to survive. “Yes?”

Gabe nodded. “Just checking.”

I love cute things. I guess you could say that cute things are one of my more light-hearted Achilles heels.

However, these lines really refer to the Eights’ drive to protect the innocent and vulnerable—which is NOT the same thing as “the weak.” Innocence and vulnerability are states of reality; weakness is something that people choose. It’s like a character flaw. A puppy or a toddler is innocent and vulnerable. A man who refuses to stand up to his overbearing wife is weak. Eights will go unusually above and beyond to protect the former, but may take delight in tormenting the latter.

According to Enneagram philosophy, this is because Eights remember being taken advantage of while they were weak and vulnerable, and wish someone had taken up their cause. The same thing is not going to happen to something or someone else on an Eight’s watch.

I never noticed this about myself until the Enneagram, but once I thought to pay attention to it, I noticed it more often than I would’ve guessed. I do feel a need in my body to intervene when I see wrong or sad things happening to those who I see as vulnerable.

Especially if they are cute.

~Stephanie

My Healing Need More Than Time

(Handy Reference Post)

"I want to break these bones 'til they're better

I want to break them right and feel alive.

You were wrong,

You were wrong,

You were wrong:
My healing needed more than time."

~"Eight" by Sleeping At Last

These first two lines made me want to pump my fist in the air and yell, "YES!" at my speakers.

I've spoken about this a tiny bit before: I enjoy working on myself, whether mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically. Often, that involves breaking something in order to fix it. I will figuratively break my bones all day til they're better.

I want to break them right.

When I told Gabe how much those lines made sense to me, he frowned.

"But you don't need to break them in order to make them better," he said.

"You do if the bone wasn't set right when it broke the first time," I told him.

No one knew about Heartbreak #1. After Heartbreak #2, everyone basically patted me on the head and me that time heals all wounds. After Heartbreak #3, I was feeding myself that trite line.

But they were wrong. They were wrong. I was wrong. My healing needed more than time.

If the heartbreak isn't set correctly, it can't heal.

I was messed up after Heartbreak #3, which is very hard for me to admit. Anyone who has been in an extremely toxic or emotionally abusive relationship knows what a number it can do to your heart and head. Had I not gotten the tools to help me process and grow as a person, I might never have healed from it.

For one thing, I needed to learn to see myself the way God sees me. God looks at me and sees brokenness, but he doesn't exploit that or use it to condemn me. He wants to heal me, not use my brokenness as a weapon or an excuse to abuse me, make me feel less. God sees my brokenness and loves the good he sees in me through Jesus. He forgives me. He has my best interest at heart. He wants me to be a part of his plan to prosper me, not to harm me. There is nothing I can do to separate myself from his love.

I can't imagine successfully recovering from heartbreak without this kind of healing love.

For another thing, I needed to experience what it was like to have a healthy romantic relationship, one that didn't end in being socked in the stomach, forgotten, etc.

For a long time, I would not have wanted to admit that Gabe played any role in healing my heart. How gross is it to say that a girl needs a GUY to show her what she's worth, to heal her heart? I can do that on my own, thanks, and if you can't, you're weak and sad.

To some degree, I guess I still believe that XD I know that if Gabe had not come along, God and I would have healed my heart by ourselves. However, I am so thankful that God chose to use Gabe in my healing process.

More on that later.

~Stephanie