I watched. I will not be self-righteous or hypocritical. Part of me was entertained. The largest part—the mom, the aunt, the older sister, the big cousin—debated going outside to talk to her. I did not.
I heard enough to know she was there to fight the other girl who was still present. I saw enough to know that relationship is young, intense, and likely lined with aggression, disrespect, and dishonor.
I have lived long enough to remember the times I was a young enraged girl over a young wandering boy. I remember the depth of my fury. I remember the times I cried, threatened, yelled, cursed, and put on one hell of a show. I remember wanting to attack.
Young love is intense. Its fury is fervent. It is not puppy love—unworthy of proper support. It is deeply serious.
As a not-so-young woman, I see the ways trauma makes an activated attachment system feel like passion, intensity, depth, and something desirable. And I know that path is lined with self-abandonment, disrespect, and dishonor.
It is far too easy to forget that love and connection should feel safe, calm, and regulating. With all the inner chatter and outward noise, it is easy to miss the gentle nudge of your own knowing, the voice saying, "Not this. Not them. Not now."
The challenge of managing desire, loneliness, connection, and safety is getting still and grounded long enough to evaluate from a place of peace instead of confusion.
There are so many metrics we use to gauge readiness for partnership. I think we forget that "blessed are the peacemakers." Am I at peace within, so I do not invite or tolerate chaos from without? That is my standard.
