Perhaps some of the best advice I've ever received in my twenty-five years has been: "You can't stay with your boyfriend just because you've been with him for six years."
When I heard these words that should have been common sense, they hit me in a profound way as I scrambled to pick up the pieces of my slowly-dying relationship. I had only ever been with one boy, and had been convinced for a long time that I'd only ever be with one boy. I didn't want to let him go. Emotions ran too high when it came to him; when it came to us.
I'm one of the lucky ones who tends to be more objective about most things (thank you, God-given INTJ personality type). I generally have the ability to analyze a relationship, a goal, or an idea under a microscope and, no matter what my knee-jerk reaction might be, I can usually manage to solve the problem objectively, in a way that makes the most sense when considering the long-term effects. While my emotions do frequently run deep -- especially when it comes to the people I love -- I have learned that it is usually best to keep them in their proper place, especially when it comes to making important decisions.
When I eventually broke up with my long-term boyfriend (whom I still loved when I let him go), I had to put aside the fact that he made me feel things I'd never experienced with anyone else. I had to put aside the fact that we'd grown up together; that I loved and knew his family like the back of my hand; that he felt like home in a world that so often seemed cold and cruel. These were just a few of the many positives of our relationship, but I knew I had to weigh all of those positives with the irreconcilable issues; the ones that so often left me in a place where I felt misunderstood, unappreciated, and disrespected, even if unintentionally on his part. I knew that in order to become who I was meant to be -- who I wanted to be -- I'd have to leave him behind, because he didn't understand some of the most vibrant aspects of my identity. Instead of loving the things that made me unique and whole, he was intimidated by them. And I knew that even if he could learn to live with the parts of my identity that he didn't agree with or understand, I needed to be with someone who loved me because of those things rather than in spite of them. Because loving someone in spite of who they are is not love at all.
Maybe you're evaluating your own relationships, romantic or otherwise, and know that some of them are unhealthy. Despite this knowledge, maybe you're struggling with the idea of cutting ties with these individuals and letting them go. What I need you to hear is this: that your feelings toward a person -- that the memories you've shared with them, no matter how endearing or intertwined they are with your identity -- should not be your deciding factor for keeping them in your life. We are each blessed with sound judgment and logic to evaluate whether or not things are right or wrong, and to listen to your heart when your logic is telling you that someone or something is not good for you is to be a slave to your emotions. Your ability to love so limitlessly is a beautiful thing, but you should never sacrifice to the point of forgetting who you are and what is best for yourself because you love someone who won't allow you to live life on your own terms. While it is beneficial and even crucial to learn to compromise in relationships, you should never have to compromise yourself to avoid making waves.
When it comes to relationships, no matter what your feelings are urging you to do, listen to what your experience knows to be true. Learn to listen to the small voice you've tried to stifle that brings up the hard and real questions that seem to make everything more complicated. It is only in evaluating a relationship honestly and objectively, with your best interests in mind, that you can be confident in the decisions you make to keep people in your life or let them go.
I promise, you will find that this objective means of evaluation is your best tool to securing long-term happiness.
