It’s like learning to ride a bike
Learning to love is not that different from learning to ride a bike. I remember being terrified of falling in both instances. The concrete jungle that was my neighbourhood didn’t make for the most bike-friendly places, so I didn’t touch it again once I got the hang of it. I was, however, rather prideful in my ability to have not fallen once while I was learning to ride. I thought I was so slick for catching myself each time before I lost balance. My feet were always slightly quivering in caution, ready to hit the ground to stabilise me if necessary.
Despite thinking I had mastered the art of riding a bike, I struggled to attempt riding each time I tried. I eventually just wanted to avoid it altogether because I was embarrassed. I thought this was one of those things you never forgot once you got it?
It then occurred to me that every time I tried riding a bike, my mind was so fixated on not falling. In not allowing myself to fall, I didn’t allow myself to learn and experience it thoroughly. Falling equated to getting hurt and humiliated and I often feel that way about love too. I’m always hesitant to take the leap and fall for someone because I want my feet near the ground where I feel secure. But in focusing my attention on everything that could go wrong, I’ve missed out on everything that could go right. In worrying about falling off my bike, I never truly learned how to ride one. In fearing the uncertainty and potential pain that comes with going all-in with someone, I’ve missed out on all the good that can come from a real relationship.
