There was a guy, and I say “was” because something in my gut said that this connection wasn’t what I wanted to have in my life.
We started hanging out, you know how it goes. Then it was the little things I started to notice, like the conversation being one sided. He didn’t really ask a lot of questions about me, while I felt I asked a million about his life before Huaraz and what brought him here. Then after awhile, he only really messaged when he needed help, or feeling stressed. I became “that” friend.
What used to be a feeling of excitement when I saw him slowly faded to a point that my body had a physical reaction to avoid him. He’s not a bad person at all, far from it. Whatever I saw in him is a projection of whatever I felt was lacking in my life. It was a sensation strong enough to manifest in my body, not through illness but the need to speak my truth.
Speaking my truth, at least through my writing has been far easier than in person. When you choose to tell someone just how you feel is a deeper level of vulnerability, and once those words leave your mouth, there’s no taking them back. There’s no delete button, no edit, no rewrite. There’s no way of knowing how the other person would receive what you have just offered - a piece of your soul.
Christina, my workmate and housemate, sat there and listened as I fumbled my way trying to explain why I had been so scatterbrained. It had been the first time in a long time that someone listened, and allowed me the space to listen to my body and quieten my ego. Ego - the part of me that held onto the fantasy because for a fleeting moment, I felt wanted, even if it was just in my head.
What did I learn in that space? It showed me that I am learning to ask more from connections that I want to see grow, and if isn’t for me, I can trust myself to know when to walk away. Don’t hold space based on potential, and if what they offer isn’t enough, it’s OK. I refocus that energy on doing things that help me see my self-worth.
Growing pains, that’s what Christina called it. She’s right. The mental shift has been so compelling since the full moon that there’s no way I can ignore it any longer. To begin to understand what I want from a connection is to reconnect with myself again, because the more I give to myself, the more I can walk my truth.
Last week at the Coca Leaf Reading Ceremony I went to, you can make a wish before throwing the coca leaves into the fire. I made two wishes. The first was for my friends and family to be happy and healthy. My second? I asked the Universe to help me become the person who will be ready to recognise and receive a “ten of cups kind” of connection. Whomever they may be, wherever they roam.
Ronna Grace Funtelar is a thirtyish storyteller, creative, writer and slam poet currently based in Peru. She is a hobby hiker, photography and sunrise enthusiast with a passion for mindfully helping others live beyond their comfort zone.