What Makes You Worthy

I’ve discovered that having my heart broken so badly and what feels like irrevocably, that it has also made me question my worth of love. On one hand I have enough self respect and confidence to know I’m worthy but at times I question my worth of love.

What makes us worthy of love?

I think back to before my heart was broken by a man I loved so very much — a man not worthy of me, but who I believed I was worthy of. Turns out in his own way he must have thought I was not worthy so he betrayed me and almost destroyed me. Before him, my worth of love was defined by the the emptiness inside of me where the feelings of love from my family was supposed to be. I think about whether our worthiness of love is a vessel that is gradually filled as we experience love. Our parents are meant to be the ones to give us that initial dollop of rich, unwavering love. Then we develop friendships and relationships — all of which may add to our vessel or take from it.

I don’t think I had a lot in me. I know I believed that my husband would never empty whatever was in there and then rip it out of my chest, stomp on it and leave it there. How foolish. Because he did exactly that. I think about what was in that fragile container — I believed he would always be my person, that he would always be there for me and have my back, that he would never cheat on me, that he would never sit there and callously crush my heart, betray my trust and that he would never forsake me for someone else. I remember the pain as if it were happening right now — the systematic breaking of every one of my core beliefs about him, about me and about my worthiness of love.

I’ve discovered that the vessel inside of me is quite empty now. I know I’m worthy of love — my brain tells me this because it’s rational, logical and pragmatic. It doesn’t allow me to wallow. But I feel empty. Empty and hollow. As if there is nothing there to break, to betray and to destroy. I remember not long ago reflecting that I felt nothing. I was not putting on a brave face — I simply felt nothing. This part inside of me that holds my feelings and my capacity for love — it’s empty.

I’ve concluded that for anything to hurt me, I need to capture and hold worthiness in me.