This has mystified me since I reached an age where chivalry and bravado and coming to the rescue as a romantic gesture began to make a little sense. For some reason beyond my ken, I inspire feelings of protectiveness and downright knightly behavior on the part of the men who come into my life. The women, too, but I'm not getting into that right now.
Now come on. I've always been able to stand up for myself whatever the circumstances. I'm no shy, fearful, retiring little flower in need of masculine (or feminine) brawn to shelter me from the icy rain pellets of a big bad world. Shit happens, wise people have said. The art of life is not to avoid shit happening, but rather to navigate through said shit and come out the other side stronger and wiser for the experience. Let me add one more step--AND THEN MOVE ON!
Look, I grieve like most other human beings. I get hurt, and I need time to get over and past the hurt. But my driving philosophy is to move on, whatever the circumstances. At this point in my life (I'll be 39 this year) I've been through enough heartbreak, sickness, and bereavement to know for a fact that life continues on the other side. Through experience I've learned to let go of pain. I hold on to what was good in any situation, bear no grudges, and take the whole as a new building block for the pyramid that is life.
So I've even had guys online coming to my defense, or something to that effect. And you know, I'm grateful to have instilled such love and loyalty in said people. But relax! Things are good for me. I'm not dwelling on what's finished and I don't regret anything I've done. Don't feel the need to rescue this damsel in distress. Why not climb up the tower so we can all celebrate what is basically an exciting and amazing life?
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