MISPLACED ENMITY
I am guilty yet again of making an enemy of what I should love. Almost five years ago, God shared the following wisdom with me: Love yourself, both [masculine and feminine] aspects - in all their weakness, in all their glory - for they need each other much more than you now know. Hearing this changed my life and laid a foundation on which to heal and build.
Having received this wisdom, it's hard to accept how utterly inept I've been transferring the lessons I learned of my feminine aspect to my masculine. It should've been obvious, especially having come to realize how much my feminine aspect so desperately needed its counterpart, but the recognition has been slow in coming.
In the wake of that resolution five years ago, my masculine aspect has emerged as the new public enemy number one. And like a dog to vomit, I've attacked him as though he were a demon, rather than a damaged, stunted, and frightened part of me that never really matured beyond the limited horizon of old childhood wounds. I'm haunted by events that even now, years removed and thousands of positive experiences later, cause my masculine aspect to utterly capitulate like a wounded child at the slightest trigger.
It wasn't always like this. It wasn't until all the false personas I built up over the years to defend myself began to come down that I realized just how damaged I really am inside. Against my will, against my good judgment, and against all the confidence I've built up over years of accomplishments, I concede to this bombardment of anxiety, melancholy, and denigrating thoughts - wanting nothing more than to be alone with the failure I'm increasingly manifesting - because I'm drawn to a place of honesty, where even the most comforting falsity no longer has any teeth.
For my part, I've fought hard, and oftentimes unsuccessfully, to suppress this brokenness over the years, subjecting myself to all sorts of physical, mental, and emotional punishment when unable to overcome it. I have hated this weakness within me - raged against it, longed to kill it, to kill myself just to make it stop. In retrospect, I cannot imagine possibly being more misguided.
Through the passing of time and shedding of layers, the moment has finally come to love that part of myself for the first time and heal the damage he suffered all those years ago. Several years ago, God offered me one wish, a wish he granted without hesitation. The problem he solved was merely derivative, but it served the vital function of illuminating the ultimate source. He was true to me in saying the road toward sorting out all the turmoil would be long and difficult. It has been. The shadows of myself lagging behind me on this journey, languishing in the heat of life itself, are formidable, but the time has come for integration. Then, and only then, will I be ready.