Last night was not a good night for me. My son needed to be rescued from some difficult circumstances, and my attachment got the best of me. I found myself reaching out, grasping at whatever connection I could get ahold of, grasping for answers, grasping for validation. All I ended up doing was prolonging my suffering.

I have a hard time with loss. Losing love, or more so, losing connection. This morning, I realized how my attachment was causing me to put pressure on the people I love. My kids, my partners, my friends. I saw how much I was wanting from another person instead of simply enjoying their presence.

Last night, my ego took control for a few hours, and I was not the best version of myself. I lost control and found myself wondering what was wrong with me, questioning why people eventually pull away. At first, I am fun and detached, but as time goes on, I start to rely on what others offer me. When that love fades, when that connection disappears, I spiral into a reckless frenzy of sorrow.

This morning, I realized I’ve just been trying to escape my pain, trying to ignore the fact that I am searching for something outside of myself. I do well on my own. I feel I have mastered solitude. I know how to entertain myself, how to take care of myself, how to love myself. But when I enter a relationship, I become needy.

I know I need connection. I know I need love. But I must be willing to let people love and connect with me in their own ways, not just in the ways I expect or demand them to. I don’t know what this world holds for me in terms of connection, but I do know that I will continue to know and love myself. I will continue to reflect and heal. One experience at a time.