One of the hardest things I keep coming back to is the fear that I may have been chosen more for stability than for love.
The person who kept things going.
The home.
The family.
The practical life.
The one who would still be there.
What hurts is the possibility that I may have been central in function but not in feeling and needed/relied on/trusted with responsibility - but not deeply wanted in the way I believed I was.
I know people and motivations are complicated, but emotionally that does not soften and leaves a very painful question behind: was I truly chosen or was I the safe and stable option while excitement validation or desire were sought elsewhere?
Has anyone else struggled with that specific wound and if so how did you make sense of it in your own mind.
[This message edited by ButterflyInProgress at 10:43 AM, Sunday, May 24th]
