From the outside looking in, I have had the Pam Anderson approach to LOVE for all my life: meet a man who does not deserve me and decide to marry him. WTF.

10/10 do not recommend. And, that’s not what I did. Technically.

How/Why?

For me to know and for no one to ever find out.

(Okay, okay, I was on a mission.)

And, thank God I didn’t get “actually” married.

I used to say it just felt like I was married but that is not what marriage feels like.

At least not the one I will finally get to experience.

I had my former relationship formula down to a science:

2-0 or 0-2?

I never paid attention in sports just like I never paid attention to The Wizard Of Oz. so I am not sure which 2-0 or 0-2 means wins or losses.

Again, maybe not paying attention was the problem.

Maybe there is no problem, unless I decide there is one.

One. Won.

Maybe I just decide that there is not “one” and maybe I decide I just “won.”

Double meaning?

What does that mean?

All anything really “means” is the “meaning” that we give it, right?

So here is what I lost:

A lot.

A lot of time, a lot of experiences, a lot of joy, a lot of people. A lot of opportunities. A lot of alternate realities. A lot of LOVE.

REAL LOVE I could have had instead.

I do wish I could rewind and delete…actually, all of it.

So I will. And I did.

Because the only place those memories live is inside of me.

Which means if i do not put the tapes back in the player, if I do not quote the movie, if I do not play it back, no one else will either.

Thank God. What a relief.

So I lost a lot.

But I also won.

Like, the game.

The whole thing. Every level. Every round. Every inning? (I should just stop with the fucking sports.)

Because I won “me.”

I get to keep… “me”.

This version.

Alyssa’s Version.

Being me, I can be, do, or have anything I want. Especially from this place of freedom.

And, of all the things I can be, do, or have: one thing I am never going to be is embarr*ass*ed.

Much like my ass, my LOVE is also something I think is quite awesome.

Of all the things that I can explore, play in, pretend to be, make believe, experience, enjoy, embarrassment is not going to be one of them.

Specifically for the love that I give.

What do I mean?

More meanings?!

Yes, in third grade I told all of my friends that had to write something “long and meaningful” in my yearbook. Which ultimately backfired because most of them ended up writing “I will try to make this long and meaningful.” (8 year olds. Where was the heart? The poetry?)

And, what I have learned through love and loss, is that there was no love in those relationships. Therefore, no love was ever lost.

That’s actually a good thing, as painful as it was. Because what I have learned, is that I AM unapologetically, the best, of all. At love.  

You could say the bestest. 

Not could. Actually. You should. You should definitely say that.

You should actually say, the bestest at LOVE.

How do I know for sure?

I have seen every description, flavor, texture, expression of what LOVE is not, in every shape, in almost four decades.

I’m at my friend Zack’s lake house and he informed me last night, while sledding down hills like children, that we were at midlife, since the new “end of life” is 77. 

I’m not subscribing to that. The rules don’t ever apply to me. I also really don’t age.

And, despite disagreeing with him, for almost 37 years I can say I know exactly what LOVE is not.

Which means, with full clarity and conviction, that I know exactly what LOVE is.

I KNOW exactly what LOVE should feel like. How LOVE should show up.

How LOVE should listen.

How LOVE should see.

How LOVE should inspire.

How LOVE should remind the other person of who they really are and what they really deserve.

I will not ever be embarrassed by that.

I will not ever be ashamed of loving too much, too hard, being too forward, shooting my shot, putting it all out there, even if it doesn’t work.

Even if it’s not reciprocated and even when they don’t want you back.

I will not apologize for loving.

AND, I will also not ever again attempt to convince anyone of my worth.

I would give people who had been through hard things so much grace.

That almost felt like they were punishing me for what they had been through. Or making me suffer like they did.

That is not LOVE.

I do not deserve that.

I remember in first grade, Keith Mulrooney. He was my first crush and I did not allow myself to be with him.

He was perfect. Smart, cute, funny, gentle. All the best things. Shy. I liked shy. I was shy. I still am shy. Bet you didn’t know that. The shyest, also, actually.

And in first grade, Keith had told me that I was pretty, and smart, and funny and shy. He also liked shy.

And as he is listing on his fingers all these cute little things he felt about me, my “best friend” got mad.

Like furious. Because it was “her crush.” Like I had somehow stole him in some way.

Of course, we were in first grade. Normal feelings.

And to make her happy, to be a “good friend,” I didn’t have that “first crush” first love experience.

For what reason? Why did I rob myself of that LOVE?

Humans are allowed to have feelings. Humans are allowed to be mad, sad, hurt. They will live. I promise.

It was not just Keith, unfortunately. There were many times in my life I did not follow my heart to prevent someone else from having hurt feelings, and who did that hurt?!

Me.

And the person who loved me.

We suffered. While the other person, who did not give a fuck about how we felt, was fine.

If they did give a single fuck about how we felt, they would want us to be happy.

I stayed in a relationship 9 years too long with the wrong guy because a few days into it, realized I was with “the wrong friend.”

Wouldn’t it have felt better for both of us if we just said we made a mistake!?!

Yeah, sure, made total sense to be with the guy you have nothing in common with, want to live a completely different lifestyle than versus someone who loves and appreciates all the same things you want out of life.

Sure that makes complete sense.

Let that fucking sink in.

Or don’t Alyssa, please. I just rewinded and erased the tapes.

Oh shit, right. Don’t let it sink.

So, no. I AM not going to be embarrassed.

I AM not going to apologize.

I AM not going to regret anything else.

I AM not going to miss out on real LOVE and on the one thing I know is real: LOVE: so someone else who DOES NOT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HOW I FEEL (because if they did, you would ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY have their BLESSING) ever, ever, ever again.

That will not happen.

I have missed out on LOVE. And I have lost opportunities at LOVE To LOVE people who never loved me.

To care about people who would not do the same for me.

That is NOT LOVE.

That is NOT LOVE at all.

I know LOVE because I AM LOVE.

LOVE listens. LOVE remembers. LOVE forgets.

This is not to say I AM perfect.

I do not think LOVE is.

I think LOVE is messy & LOVE is unpredictable.

I have probably, definitely made more mistakes than anyone.

What LOVE ALSO IS…

LOVE is also apologizing. OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Like, forever.

If you love each other!! DUH!

And the sooner and faster you apologize, the faster you get back to LOVE.

I want to make it my mission to apologize the fastest and first, always. It’s honestly the most important part.

If it’s ONLY my ego standing in the way of love, and I have full control over that, my ego, my bullshit, my pride? Why would I not be so appreciative and grateful for that and just fucking surrender?

Surrender.

I surrender.

To LIFE. To LOVE.

To who loves me back.

What a dream.

What a new experience this will be.

a LOVE who LOVES me back.

a LOVE that I deserve.

a LOVE I do not have to share.

amen.