I recently gave up on a situationship I had found myself in. (I gotta tell you I’m pretty ashamed of that being thirty and all, but y’know unprecedented times and such).
And when I was talking to a good friend about it, I realized that among the myriad of feelings I was experiencing, one was anger towards myself. Anger that was covering embarrassment. I was embarrassed that I had expected things to go differently this time.
I was embarrassed that I had felt hopeful.
I felt weak that I had felt hope.
It is intriguing to me this concept. It falls in line with everything else that we are taught is weak that actually takes immense strength. We’re taught that being vulnerable–having feelings, being honest about them–is weak. When it actually takes immense strength to face what we’re feeling and even greater strength to go and tell someone about it.
I think the same is true of hope.
I think those of us that are hopeful are often told that we are naive. We are often made to feel silly for having hopes for a different outcome. When things don’t turn out differently, we feel that we should have known better. That we should have seen it coming.
But what I keep realizing, is how much strength is takes to look back at all the things that didn’t work and still hope that something can go differently. And hoping, to be clear, doesn’t mean closing your eyes, sitting back, and praying. Although, that can certainly be a part of it. Often with hope comes a great deal of work. Work on ourselves, work with others, work trying to change a system, many systems.
So if you recently hoped for something and it didn’t come to be, please, feel all the sadness and disappointment that comes with that loss. And remember, you are strong for having hoped. You are strong for imagining something different for you, for everyone.
Keep hoping.
tmd 