Afraid to be Loved

Not long ago, I ran into a young man whom I had known a while back, and we had a chance to talk for a little while. Now, he's a fairly special young man, but I had forgotten that; and I was amazed to feel myself changing into a completely different person than normal as he talked with me quietly, respectfully, asking me questions and treating me like an equal and a lady. I was warmed all over by his friendly smile and wave as we said goodbye. In fact, I wanted to see more of him. Could he tell that? Did he know?

With my parents' blessing, I shyly sent him a friend request on Facebook, just to let him know that I was open to seeing him again if he liked. Later that day, he accepted; and just for good measure, he dropped a friendly "like" on my profile picture. I felt giddy and lightheaded. Maybe he thought I was pretty! Maybe he liked me! Maybe ... !

But when I peeked at his page later, I found what I should have expected in the first place: photos of him and his girlfriend. My happy balloon of hope burst unceremoniously and plopped into a little crumpled pile in its usual place on the floor of my heart. So. He was just being friendly and polite to an old acquaintance. I should have known - it was silly of me to think that a guy like him could be interested in a silly old spinster like me.

But, the moral of this story is not that I was disappointed, like any normal girl would be. The surprising thing to me was that when all the air gushed out of my silly little hope-balloon, it turned out to be, not disappointment primarily, but relief.

I was relieved that things were staying the same. I was still unattractive; still single; still a plain little spinster puttering through unromantic days. My knees immediately grew weak and I could easily have collapsed on the kitchen floor from sheer relief.

Because the prospect of being in love terrifies me.

It's true. To me, falling in love represents the most frightening and extreme manifestation of lost control. When I am not in love, I am a rational being, walking along the path that I choose (within God's will, of course); I go where I want, do what I want, plan my own day, and have the power to walk away from a friend if she is dragging me down or if our friendship is not beneficial to us anymore. I get emotional, but I do it on my own time, when it's convenient. I can present myself any way I choose, because no one really knows me deep down inside - I am something of a mystery, and I like it that way, because I can keep my own private world to myself and only show others what I want them to see.

If I fell in love, everything would be completely the opposite. Lovers aren't rational. My emotions would be out of my control - I couldn't keep everything all bottled up until I was safe and hidden and alone at night; they would be too powerful. People would see how I was really feeling. It's always that way with lovers. And what about with him, my boyfriend/lover/husband? He would know everything! No more carefully upkept facade with him - he would know when I was depressed, grumpy, selfish, moody, giddy, or reckless. He would come into my private world and see all the secrets I keep there - not that I have anything to be ashamed of; but how can I share my midnight fantasies, my daytime reveries, my favorite music, my tears and secret smiles - how can I share those with another person? How could I ever trust anyone enough to let them see those things, especially someone as foreign as a man?

And most importantly of all, if I ever fell in love, I would no longer be walking alone. I couldn't just walk away from it - once the ring was on my finger, I would be sealed for life. Of course, there are many days and nights when I desperately wish I didn't have to be alone; but what about the many days and nights when I put my face in the wind and let my spirit run, rejoicing in knowing that my heart is free and doesn't belong to any mortal man? Could there ever be a man who would let me be alone when I'm in those moods? If not, would the sunsets and thunderstorms and autumn days still look the same if I had to share them with someone? Would I still seek after God in the same way as I do now? Or would my relationship with Him change?

Now, don't get me wrong, I haven't suddenly turned into a man-hater, and I still want to get married as much as ever. That's what bothers me. In theory, I love the idea of falling in love and getting married. I actually think I would be a pretty good wife, and I know I would be a very good mother. But in practice, anytime it looks like there actually might be a man for me, the thought just scares me to death. I'll happily give up my heart to a man as long as he's imaginary. But when he's flesh and blood, standing in front of me? I gasp and shrink way. I changed my mind. You can't have my heart. You might break it. Besides, I don't need you to take care of me anyway. I can take care of myself.

Something must be wrong with my attitude somewhere - it usually is. Lack of faith is the most logical choice. But this is one area where I can't just "venture out in faith" and see what God will do, because it involves the heart of another person; and it is likely to be just as sensitive and frightened as mine. And I would far rather have my own heart broken, than to break someone else's.

What can I do? How will I ever learn to accept love if I'm so deathly afraid of it?

Vicki