The best way to heal is to be better. Than who you were and who you were with. If a person was responsible for the hurt in you, be better. It’s a beautiful and idealistic wisdom, but tiring to succeed in.
This I experience everyday. Each day I try to defeat myself and the people around me. My family, their friends, my friends.
Just a year ago I experienced an attack of one of my ex’ closest friends. It turned out to be a set up by my then mother in law. My boyfriend at that time was not at home for a week. During those days I was alone. Afraid to call anyone. I hoped that time would heal me or free me from my wounds.
It became the first. My wounds healed, but it freed me from my relationship.
Nobody knows. Not even my parents. Nobody will know. Because someday I want to be better than the people who hurt me. There are more and I will conquer them. Some how, some day and I won’t give up. I can’t, that’s not Ivy.
Relationships are not for me. They feel uncomfortable. I don’t know why I am not a person who doesn’t feel safe when a boy says I love you.
I didn’t feel this way during my first relationship. Safe I don’t know, but I did feel a sense of joy. With Lennart I don’t. It’s like I can’t believe his love for me.
It is to soon to talk about love. We only know each other for a few weeks. He is my boyfriend, for now. Until he knows better. Until his parents realize he’s better of with a girl that makes sense.
Not me. I am always a surprise. Too much, just like years ago. She doesn’t know. My mom doesn’t know that’s how I feel. Too much. Always.
Surprised I was by his adoration for me. Especially after all the tiring years I had. When I was at his parents house that day, I wasn’t even thinking about getting to know him.
Yes I adored him in my teenage years. However, years wentby and our paths never crossed so we couldn’t start anything. He was kind of a playboy and wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was and I thought to find the person to start a life with. Even though I was young. All my friends had serious boyfriends. I thought I’ve found mine to.
I was wrong. It was all wrong. He wanted me, but he didn’t want me. Just the outside. The picture. What I looked like. When I really needed him, he wasn’t ready to invest or be loyal. He looked away. So I left. He couldn’t choose me after a few of his friends attacked me. They were his friends. I probably made a mistake.
I left. But I was broken. Now I can’t believe love if it’s next to me. From anyone. My parents don’t know. Nobody does. Just me. And him. He’s gone. I am here, but I can’t see anymore.
That moment with him, changed everything for me. Not because of the flirtations, but because I never thought he would be that kind of man. Never have I met a person like that, let alone a flirtation with me. Call me naive and maybe I am. I was at that moment, but I wanted to forget and I felt safe.
His behavior made me angry and I pointed it out to him. He will never have a chance. Certainly not with me. So I made him uncomfortable. It was dangerous I know, but we were not alone. After that his son changed the day. He liked how I handled his father and he liked me.
Never would I have thought that would be the way to conquer the heart of the man I adored. Of course I know better, but love. Regardless of my own pain, I decided to jump again. And if I looked in his eyes, I knew it was the place where I should be.
Door te leren hoopte ik meer grip te krijgen op mijn eigen bestaan. Vroeger had ik daar school voor. Zo dacht ik en ik was altijd achter de boeken te vinden. Hoge cijfers halen, om de waardering te verdienen waar ik naar verlangde. Steeds kwam deze niet. Niet zoals ik nodig had in ieder geval. Nog steeds kon ik de veranderingen en conflicten in mijn leven niet verklaren. Het omgaan met complexe familieverhoudingen. De wisseling van culturen. De juiste Ivy vinden in alle werelden. Het leek alsof ik altijd de verkeerde Ivy was.
De enige goede Ivy, was de Ivy die leerde. Die stil was. Die zweeg. Ik ontdekte de vrede die dan ontstond en ik verdween. In de boeken. De verhalen. Kennis werd mijn redding. Door de boeken kwam ik weer tot leven. Dan durfde ik te bestaan. Ik werd gezien. Maar door de verkeerde mensen, die alleen het masker van kennis aanschouwden.