Love

I know how it feels to feel unlovable. I know how it feels when you’ve been hurt in a way that makes you think you deserved it. You didn’t. Everyone told you so. You nodded whenever a friend told you that you were not guilty of your abuse, but you found your soul so broken after everything, your soul dripping black blood from her wounds, that you thought it to be the end of all possible love for you. I know how it feels. Trust me.

I know how it feels to repeat every single hurtful scene in your head, looking for a rational explanation for your abuser’s behavior. You wanted to save them, you realize after many therapy sessions. You wanted to, but you don’t understand why in the first place. You remember how the relationship started with them. Everything seemed so oddly amazing. You knew something was amiss but you were dreaming for someone like that person… only to become a nightmare where you doubted your own senses and mind, your friends staying awake late just in case you sent them another text telling them another thing your abuser did to you… I know how it feels. Trust me.

I know how it feels when, months later, you feel stuck in “recovery mode.” You’re not a computer program; debug flags and backtracing stack frames are fun only in code, not in life. You feel in shambles. You know your abuser isn’t. It hurts. Everything hurts. Everyone else’s love stories make you feel a mix of profound sadness and anger. You want love and sex to cease to exist. You don’t want to be a victim again, so let’s destroy everything, at least in your own little world of your burnt-out soul. It’s just the pain, my dear; it’s your pain talking through your angered tears, dark, seething with pain that has a note of hatred… You want to lay a curse on your abuser. You have done so, in fact. “Recovery” feels exhausting, tiresome, and hopeless. All you can do is get into fits of self-destructing anger and deep sadness. Sometimes, with friends, you might laugh, but oh, all those acid sarcastic remarks and tendency to intellectualize every single thing, avoiding your emotions, is just your pain trying to keep you safe.

But, do you know what else is trying to not only keeping you safe, but also heal?

Love.

You shiver. You hate that word. You don’t want to know anything about that damned thing called love. Be cursed! Stay away! You want fire in your soul, but the one that burns forests and mountains down to ashes. You cry, silently.

Love.

There’s always that friend or maybe two of them, who are brave enough to love you even at your worst. Even when you swear you don’t want and don’t deserve any love. Such friends are brave enough to pass their hands across the flames that surround you. They know you better than you know yourself right now. They remember how you shone bright before falling into your abuser’s hands. They remember your angelic smile, before your fall from heavens. They want you to stay alive, to heal, to grow. They’re there, they slowly cool down your pain, they help you to get up for the first time, with dignity. They offer you love. It feels weird, sad again, but you’re no longer in shape to stoke the flames again… Rain falls over your soul and heart. It feels sad again. Now it feels lonely if it wasn’t because of that one or those two friends.

Grief takes over. You feel doubly tired now. You already were, but now you can’t even get mad at your abuser. Meanwhile, you’re being loved. That friend who sheltered you. That friend that reminds you of all the good things you have to offer. That friend that allows you to make coffee for her because she knows that that simple thing makes you shine like a beautiful sun (and you make terrific coffee too!). That friend who encourages you when you find again your spiritual practices, now strengthened, even if she doesn’t follow the same or any at all. That friend who is able to see behind the curtain of your words filled with hurt and knows that you yearn for a new chance in love, now one that feels right and isn’t destructive. You feel devastated, tired, but you start noticing all of this. You notice how patient they have been to you.

You know yourself. You know you could, in any moment, try to run away from them. You don’t want to be betrayed yet again. You take a leap of faith, listening to your heart. You know they don’t want to hurt you like your abuser did. They don’t see you as a pawn, as your abuser told you how they saw “everyone else.” They don’t go around proclaiming that “everything is a power dynamic.” They don’t go around happily proclaiming butchered quotes from Nietzsche in perverse attempts to justify their abusive behavior. Then you remember someone in your family did the same when you were a child. You start to understand. It takes courage and pain to remember some things of your childhood, which are even too macabre to write down. You slowly piece the jigsaw puzzle together. Now you also start realizing why the love of your friends feels so alien and even unsettling, even when you know they are not going to hurt you.

And you start crying again, but this time it’s freeing. Your soul reaches, for the first time in months, a state of bliss and peace. You know that love is possible, that peace is possible, and that you’re not alone in the challenges ahead. You might feel worried now, asking yourself how you’ll get your full strength back. You are being loved and start loving in full again now. You take the step to fully trust your friends. Trust. Yes, trust. That’s the miracle you needed to perform: to trust again. You remember the wise words of Master Crowley: «Every intentional act is a Magical Act» (Magick without Tears, I). And with your heart moved and overwhelmed from love, you intentionally begot trust and love starts flowing back to those friends of yours who had been supporting you. Maybe you didn’t stop offering them your love, but you know what I’m referring to. During the darkest nights of your pain, all you could offer were drops of love tainted with your own pain… Now it’s purified. Now it lets the earth grow crops again.

Love.

How rich and deep can true friendships be! How safe can they feel! Your heart craves this warmth now. You’ve learned that love is an alchemical state where two souls care for each other and share parts of their lives because they like you and you like them. Yes, in friendships. Romantic relationships bring this to a different metaphysical level, in my opinion, but the root stays the same in both platonic and erotic love. It’s about journeying through this visible world caring for each other. It’s also about honoring your own desires. Love isn’t about sacrificing yourself on the altar of someone else’s willingly unattended tormented chaos that hurts everyone around them. You deserve to see your small and big desires respected, as you do with other people’s.

Love.

Love is there. It’s real. No amount of pain, tears, suffering, or abuse will shut the doors of love close for your heart. You know it to be true from all your esoteric readings. You had even forgotten that part of yourself after allowing your abuser to take advantage of your powers and knowledge. But you know the source. You fell from Kether to Malkuth, almost took a dark detour via Lilith, but know the path back while also enjoying the drops of the golden emanation purifying your naked skin, your lips, filling up the small cup that is your navel. You know there is no dam strong enough to contain the flood that is coming to bathe you and invite you back to the shining glory your soul was born for. Yes, maybe you’ve adopted a dark cloak now to honor some parts of your story that serve as a warning and as a powerful weapon against further harm… but, even though she wears dark robes, the Dark Mother carries two torches, one in each hand, leading the way and knowing that good, protective darkness comes always with a shining light in its heart.