Have you ever been betrayed by a friend or a loved one?

Perhaps you shared a secret with them that they promised not to tell another — but they did.  Or perhaps they vowed to take care of you either emotionally or physically but they failed to keep up their end of the bargain.  In any case, the sense of betrayal can feel so deep and truly like a dagger in the chest.  Yet when we peek beyond the raw open wound and the devastation that the incident may have caused, the real question is how do you stay open when you’ve been burned?

This truly is a topic that I’ve found myself struggling to grasp for years now. Whether it’s my childhood friend who told on me and nearly got me kicked out of school (because I had moved to a different district), or a once-upon-a-time-love-of-my-life completely falling short of the words he uttered at the alter, I have searched for an answer and have been unable to fully understand why anyone would do such things to harm another (ie. me).

However, as of late, I came to a conclusion that often times other people’s intentions may have nothing to do with us, and everything to do with themselves.  After all, if we abide by the the premise that there is no “outer” world, and everything is only a reflection of our own “inner” world, then perhaps the intention of others may not have been to cause harm.  They just want to say, do and be the things that make them feel good and they may not consider whether anyone else gets hurt in the process.

Selfish — you say?  Maybe not.

Whether you believe it or not, I believe that we agreed to be here in these bodies to learn lessons.  Those lessons may come in cruel forms but that is the only way to guarantee that we learn the lesson.  In my case, it caused me to close my heart to making any real friends over the years, in fear of being betrayed again.  It seemed purposeless to put myself in a position to be hurt again.  The same goes for romantic relationships. I couldn’t justify any need to socialize and to open up if it was only to result in more heartache.  Yet I knew it was impractical be a spinster.  Confining myself to the boundaries of my yoga mat caused so much inner exploration that I finally decided to open up again and try to make friends in the city where I’ve been living for a decade.

My inner S.O.S. signal had finally been answered when I picked up a new hobby (dancing).  As if the Universe just knew it was time to let old wounds remain old wounds, the scars started to fade, and slowly but surely it was possible to make friends again.  My daily ritual now is to embrace each day anew.  Instead of seeking perfection, I recognize the gift in every moment of the “now”,  and I get so much relief from simply acknowledging that I am still here, all in one piece, and I don’t need to wear any armor to be accepted.