It’s Really Quite Simple – So Why Do We Make Relationships So Difficult?

We make our relationships, whether romantic, family or friend, complicated.

Why is this?  Why do we worry about the proper number of days to wait to call after a date?  Why do we worry that our best friend is too busy to talk?  Why do we hold back our feelings?  Why don’t we ask questions?  Why don’t we say what it is that we need?

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I was the absolute worst for this.  I would agonize over calling my friends because I didn’t want to seem too needy or annoy them.  I never call family for the same reason – would it be weird to ask to pop by for a visit?  I stopped seeing people because I was embarrassed by my weight.  I wondered why anyone would want to hear from me.  I crawled inside of myself for a long time and was too shy, made myself too small, too invisible, to be a good friend, daughter or sister.

It was so freaking stupid to waste so much time as someone I wasn’t!

And then my life fell apart.  And suddenly all of those people who I hadn’t been making time for, hadn’t felt comfortable leaning on, were there standing solidly by my side.  Every little melt down, every time I needed to talk, to go for coffee, or simply be hugged.  I received daily calls offering support.

I had no choice suddenly but to crawl the rest of the way inside myself or break the walls that I had built.

It made me realize that relationships, of whatever kind, are the most valuable thing that we will ever have.  Friends and family and lovers alike.

I can’t believe how many people have told me that I have changed over the past couple of years.  That I have become more like the woman that they thought I would be rather than the mouse that I had become.

So take a look at the list above.  Are you following it?  If you aren’t, figure out why.

It wasn’t until I started doing these things that I became someone I really liked.

The truth is: relationships are simple.  It’s our own insecurities that make them complicated.

Or maybe that was just me?

It isn’t anymore.

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