When it comes to providing relationship advice, I’d consider myself a qualified candidate. I pride myself in my diligent listening skills as well as the ability to temporarily rationalize the circumstance in a not-so-obvious way of thinking. Frequently providing some comic relief and the comfort of one…or ten martini’s for the occasional broken heart.
When I take a deeper look into my own romantic and physical relationships, it is then when I begin to question my own guidance and morals and wonder how it is that I’m able to provide such practical and functional advice when in reality, my own personal home front is at times, divinely disorganized and completely chaotic.
In my previous posts, I mentioned my fear of failure. As with any other ineffective phobia in life, I find myself applying this fruitless emotion into personal relationships, and look for reasons to leave, rather than love. However, despite the initial sting of loving the wrong people (which is actually what makes us buzz about all the right ones). I become suddenly allergic to the idea of committing to the hive.
For the past two years, I’ve spent most of my social and personal time fluttering in and out of relationships. Like a bumblebee, I buzzed around the social scene, pollinating with the finest honey, and leaving the sting to all those I weeded out. What I didn’t realize then, that I’m well aware of now, is how ultimately frustrating and tender the sting can be for both the target, and the stinger (Even long after the initial reaction settled in)
See, what science and evolution has taught us, is that bee’s don’t sting with the intention to hurt someone, but rather with the intent to protect themselves. Often times, when we get too close to the hive, and make ourselves at home in this unfamiliar territory, it is then we gain a self-awareness of how unknown and slightly risky this colonization can really become.
I suppose this has been my dilemma all along. Do I keep up with the social nature of the honeybee and chance it with the brightest, sweetest nectar within the ecosystem? Or do I keep the Queen Bee protected in her own beehive for other worker bee’s to colonize with? Is it that I’m personally afraid of being stung? Or is it that I’m afraid of stinging, and eventually hurting the wrong people? Ultimately, when is it time to reward ourselves with the labors of our fruits, and when is it time to protect ourselves from the natural disasters that lay ahead?
Maybe it is time to spread my wings, and just take flight. There’s so much sweetness in the world.
