RELATIONSHIPS
I Burned a Bridge
And it did indeed light the way.
“When something causes a soul this much turmoil you need to either let it go or dive deeper."
Those words were sent to me several months ago when I was going through a different existential crisis. (See: I Am a Yoga Teacher Training Drop Out | by Sarah Backstrom ) Sometimes the kindest, most loving act we can do is to walk away, permanently, and not look back. This is true from a job, or a relationship, or anything for that matter that doesn’t serve you. It is an act of love for both parties involved, the one doing the burning and the one being burned so to speak.
I didn’t always feel this way.
I used to think that burning a bridge was an act of haste, anger done out of rage. It makes sense. I mean, fires are hot, and they can burn causing irreparable disfigurement if you get too close. Fires destroy homes, and lives, they are seldom celebratory. The end of a relationship, of any sort, rarely comes without pain. It is often at least a little one-sided, one person at the very least says what both parties are thinking “This isn’t working.”
Lighting a fire to intentionally burn anything beyond a candle doesn’t feel loving to me. I know it can be, like when we burn ditches, but those controlled burns feel productive. They are meant to promote growth. I now realize that growth is as much about eliminating things, relationships, circumstances, mindsets, that aren’t working anymore as it is about adding things that do. Growth comes from leaning towards that which is nourishing, and in doing that letting go of things and people that are not.
I am forgiving by nature, and have almost never slammed a door closed and lost the key, to anywhere or anyone. I’ve walked away plenty, but I’ve always done it in a kind way that left a path back should we ever find our way back to one another. There have been times when that path has grown worn and broad. In hindsight, I’m not sure that has always been the most healthy decision. While on occasion the path back to one another became beautiful and lined with flowers, it has also, once or twice become treacherous and lined with rocks or weeds, an indicator that perhaps the road already traveled is best left alone.
I recently made the uncharacteristic decision to burn a bridge. I lit it on fire and watched it burn. I made sure it was good and irreparably damaged before turning my back and walking away. I don’t like the permanence of a decision like this. It feels final in a way that I’m just not accustomed to. Still, growth comes from discomfort, and sometimes the most loving thing you can do for everyone involved is to walk away and not look back. My own intuition kept whispering to me “If it doesn’t serve you let it go, let the bridge you burn light the way.” I need to do that this time.
See, this past summer, I found myself in an “other woman" kind of scenario. We were friends. He has a girlfriend. It is a recent-ish thing. He claims he is unsure where it is going. Then one night he stopped by with ice cream and whoops, our clothes fell off. We’d hooked up before they started dating, and it was “meh." That time? It was amazing. Before long we fell into a pattern. We would make up lame excuses to hang out and end up in the sack. He once invited me over to meet his cats and I took the bait. For the record, I’m allergic to cats.
Inevitably the next day, or a few days later guilt would set in for both of us. I would confess to not liking that I felt like just a piece of ass. He would assure me that I wasn’t, and he would make an effort to show me by sending kind texts and showing an interest, and asking about my day. We would vow to keep our clothes on the next time we hung out, but it never happened that way. A hug always led to one of our hands sliding across an ass or a boob, and then an almost kiss would lead to an actual kiss, and again those damn clothes just fell off.
If it doesn’t serve you let it go.
I tried to let this one go, before he had the girlfriend, and again a few times when he was an ass, and once when he was super inappropriate. (I wrote about that here: Healing Through Confrontation and Accountability | by Sarah Backstrom | Medium.) I tried to walk away, but I enjoyed his sense of humor, the conversations we had, and frankly, the attention. Therein lies the problem, the attention. That shit, like external validation, or sugar, is fucking addictive.
This past weekend during a text exchange I mentioned going to the farmers market and asked him to tag along. I told him we wouldn’t be inclined to transgress in a crowd of people downtown. He declined my invitation and I responded by telling him “have fun with your lady.” He responded “I will. You have fun too” as the text hung on my phone screen, turmoil, fear, anger, and sadness all welled, then raged. I felt the familiar pull of a woman whose heart is broken. I responded that perhaps I was tired of being a side piece, and suggested we cut things loose. That led to lots of back and forth, and way too much drama. Finally, an admission from him that this pattern had grown familiar, and I was now being kept at a distance, and that voice came again “If it doesn’t serve you, let it go, let the bridge you burn light the way.” In that moment the most loving thing I could do was to walk away.
Familiar feelings of jealousy, and insecurity welled. I wanted to scream, yell, cry, send a string of texts with profanity that would make a sailor raise their eyebrows. I didn’t do any of it, though I was honest with him about my feelings, fairly or unfairly. My soul was in turmoil. I spent most of Sunday and part of Saturday both trying not to cry (he’s not worth it. I can do better) and sobbing (maybe this is the best I can do?) I begged the universe for guidance and a sign. I kept feeling the urge to light candles, and other types of fire (I roasted peppers for salsa prep, and cooked a fair bit.) and I kept hearing my own intuition tell me “If it doesn’t serve you, let it go, let the bridge you burn light the way." On Sunday afternoon I went to a gong meditation where, during the cacao ceremony beforehand, I set an intention towards releasing this man in order to open space for someone new. That relationship was no longer serving me. It was time to let it go. I expected to continue to cry during meditation, just as I had in the lead-up to attending but instead felt a beautiful pink and yellow space within me open. I felt love light a fire inside me, and I let him go.
As I drove away I checked text messages and had one from him. I didn’t feel compelled to respond. I still don’t. He has texted a time or two letting me know that he enjoys our banter. My lack of response isn’t out of anger or to play games, I just… don’t feel like it.
I have apparently burnt that bridge. I didn’t do it in anger. It actually feels very much the opposite. Burning this bridge feels like the most loving thing I could possibly do for myself, and for him. By removing myself from this equation it frees him up to focus on himself and his relationship without the distraction of extra side pussy. I have effectively removed any further growing guilt over my part in his cheating, though what’s done is done. I’m not proud of my behavior. I actually feel a fair bit of shame. It was really out of character and the first time I have ever been the “other woman.” If his girlfriend finds out he was unfaithful, it won’t be from me.
I’ve told him repeatedly over the past month or so that I hated feeling like just a piece of ass. In hearing that he stepped up, showed interest, texted me often just to say hello, and offered to help me with a project in my art studio. He acted every inch like a pseudo boyfriend. It was never enough. He didn’t ask me to meet his friends. He declined offers to meet mine. In that sense, he was shady as fuck and I was being kept in the shadows. To meet me is to realize I’m not really a shadows kinda gal. I’m more center stage, in a nonspeaking role garnering all the attention and being super awkward in accepting it.
I can dive deep into all the reasons as to why I was willing to accept his treatment, and I probably will, with my therapist, but I don’t need him in my life to do it. It’s probably better if I don’t, to be honest. It will be uncomfortable. It will require that I am honest with myself, and my therapist. I will probably hate every minute, but in the end, I will be glad I did it.
That relationship doesn’t serve me. Looking at the reasons behind why I was willing to enter into it, does. I can either let it go or dive deep or in this case, both. The world is a mirror. If I see disrespect staring back at me, it’s worth my time to examine it.
