Loss is difficult for everyone. From a very early age we don’t like it. When a toy is lost or taken away a child cries and becomes distressed. We’re taught that loss is bad. That loss hurts.
But does it always, really?
In this 3-part series I will discuss particular losses (of people or things) in my life that have taken an effect at shaping who I am today, sitting at a computer in New England typing this sentence.
Loss isn’t always bad.
There are some losses in life that are not a bad thing. Though they may be hard to handle at first, they enable you to be better as a person. In December 2010, as I sat in a restaurant near my hometown with my boyfriend of a few years, enjoying the best restaurant bread I still have ever tasted, he said, “I have a bad feeling and can’t deal with it anymore.”
Someone please mark this down with other horrible breakup lines.
“It’s not you; it’s me.” “I need some time to find myself.”
What the hell does “bad feeling” even mean? I spent the next few weeks as we tried not talking (to give him time to figure things out) stressed and blasting a Josh Groban album based on what happens when love goes wrong. I never thought I would be able to go back to the way I was. But as a month went by, and his “Maybe I’ll come back” texts started to make sense in my brain, I realized that I didn’t want to wait around. I was sick of doing that.
So I told him I was done waiting. I told him I didn’t want him to come back. I was done.
I had lost my boyfriend, because of decisions he had made, but that didn’t mean I had to lay down and let my life be over. Yes, I was emotionally devastated for a while. I was angry and hurt and spent a night ripping apart a cardboard box as I cried my eyes out.
But I came back.
That next year, I tested for my 4th Degree Black Belt in Little Rock, Ark., and I started my journey with running.
Sometimes losses are a good thing. They force you to stand up on your own and believe in yourself. Who knows, I probably wouldn’t even be a runner right now if that hadn’t happened.