I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You)

Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, my ipod turned itself on. "Ok," I told it, "I'm listening. Whatcha got for me?" I put her in shuffle mode, and this is what she started to sing:

You're a no good heart breaker
You're a liar and you're a cheat
And I don't know why
I let you do these things to me
My friends keep telling me
That you ain't no good
But oh, they don't know
That I'd leave you if I could

I guess I'm uptight
And I'm stuck like glue
Cause I ain't never
I ain't never, I ain't never, no, no (loved a man)
(The way that I, I love you)

And somewhat miraculously, given my state of late, I did not burst into tears: I smiled. "You got me there," I said to myself, except I'm not stuck like glue. Not anymore. I was talking to a friend last night about all the stages I've had to work through to get to this point of acceptance -- and there may be more still. But to get to this point, I've had to work through three major barriers to letting go of this love. Here they are in no particular order because it's hard to say that one is more powerful than the other -- they were all quite potent when I was in their grasp:

1) My desire to be the one to take care of him. This one's huge, because it's related to something very primal for women: the desire to mother the ones we love. Plus I loved taking care of him, and it isn't easy to give up something you love to do.

2) The tragic feeling that I might never have another lover like him. This one's also huge. I've described in this blog the feeling of what I call knowing at a bone level that our bodies belong together. Sleeping next to each other was heavenly, the sex was off the charts, every hug, every touch of his hand felt as if it gave me more of life -- more to feel, more to love, more to enjoy. Giving that up has at times felt (and/or proved to be in a given moment) impossible.

But part of what makes it feel impossible is really fear that letting go of this will mean losing it forever rather than getting it from someone else. I got the sweetest email the other day from my first love, who is now a newlywed. I'd sent him the blog post I'd written about finding out he got married, and he responded with absolute certainty that I would find love again. On some level I know this, and I've been told by many people close to me that they know it too, but for whatever reason, I was able to really hear it and believe it coming from him. He knows a little something about loving me.

3) Last but certainly not least, I've had to work through lots of old fears of abandonment that this situation is bringing up. "If you love me, why would you leave me?" asks the little girl inside of me, and to be fair, the grown woman wonders the same thing. In my brain, I can make sense of it. In my heart, I cannot. But isn't that as it should be? Shouldn't a heart get to desire to be with its love(s)? It doesn't mean it always works out that way, but it's a feeling to be honored for sure:

Don'cha never, never say that we we're through
Cause I ain't never
Never, Never, no, no (loved a man)
(The way that I, I love you)

I can't sleep at night
And I can't even fight
I guess I'll never be free
Since you got, your hooks, in me

I hear you Aretha, and I feel your pain, but I am here to tell you that allowing someone to keep their hooks in you is a choice. A long time ago, my friend taught me how to cut the cords of attachment, keeping only the love, but over the last few months, whenever I've become aware that would be a good idea, I've refused to do it. Just like a petulant child: "No! I won't do it! I don't have to! You can't make me!" All true. But now I choose to do it, and have begun that process, because now I am choosing to let go of this love that continues to leave me without all that I need:

Whoa, oh, oh
Yeah! Yeah!
I ain't never loved a man
I ain't never loved a man, baby
Ain't never had a man hurt me so bad

No
Well this is what I'm gonna do about it

... and leave myself open for this love of which those who love me speak. Yes I am.

I haven't used a song in a while that everyone under the sun seems to have covered, but this one falls into that category. The classic Aretha linked above is probably unbeatable, but both Alicia Keys and Jennifer Hudson give her a run for her money. And Allison Crowe proves white girls can belt out the blues too...