Happiness

Last year I cried on the floor, drinking plum wine and feeling utterly miserable. (Almost) exactly a year later I cried on the kitchen floor, drinking plum wine and feeling miserable. The difference was this time I was not alone. This time somebody was sitting with me on the kitchen floor, soothing me and patiently waiting for me to calm down.

When I first met my ex-husband I had people tell me that my continuously gushing over him was 'too much' and 'disgusting'. When he hurt me I thought they were right, so I put a lid on how much I share about my (now ex) boyfriend. It would be too embarrassing if I didn't make it again. And I didn't.

But why should happiness be embarrassing? Why are only people in 'successful relationship' allowed to share their happiness? What defines 'successful relationship'? A year without breaking up, 5 years, a decade? Why do we put a limit on when we are 'allowed' be happy?

My ex-husband love-bombed me but I was happy. Despite the massive dumpster fire that was our marriage there were times that I was happy. The same thing with my ex-bf and the trash bonfire that was our end. What happened after, the pain and the sadness and the trauma, it could never take away or erase the happiness I experienced. I shouldn't be embarrassed for being happy because of people who later on hurt me. It wasn't, shouldn't be, on me.

I am choosing happiness this time. I am not waiting to 'see how it goes'. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, I know just like with my other relationships I would have already expend all of my possible effort before accepting the defeat. Be it lasting 3 months or 3 years or 3 decades, I would have already tried my best. I am happy, and that's all that matters.