But it's really not like that. My love is an ever-renewing resource.
Moving to Memphis has shown me that. When I first moved here I was broken and tired. Scared that I wouldn't have the momentum I needed (or the motivation) to reach out to another new group of friends. I left behind some amazing people in Wilmington. People in whom I had invested. I could call them at three in the morning and they would know just what to say to rescue me from whatever emotional sand trap I had found myself in. People who had watched me and encouraged me to transform from a depressed divorcee who was recovering from a twelve-year relationship in which she had never really asked herself what *she* wanted, to a spunky, adventurous and independent woman who knew exactly what she wanted for herself.
That doesn't come around every day, I would tell myself. People who love you like that? Those are few and far between. Right?
So upon my arrival in Memphis, my motto was to tread lightly. "You probably won't find anyone as good as you already had," I told myself. Because who is *really* that lucky? To have *that* many amazing people in their life? Not possible. "Besides," I told myself, "You need to save your love for the really important people you haven't met yet."
But as I got settled in my little pink apartment on the third floor, I couldn't keep my heart buried. I knew I wanted another strong woman to connect with. I knew I *needed* another strong woman to connect with. So, I imagined her. I closed my eyes and pictured her. She would be a lot like me, and she would be able to know my heart because hers was just like mine.
Maybe her name was Lindsey. (The name my parents almost gave me when I was born.) That sounded like a good name.
I wondered how many Lindseys there were in Memphis. (My Facebook search yielded several thousand.)
And then I found her. She was smiling in her profile picture, and I saw something familiar in her eyes. So I messaged her. And the rest is history.
Keep opening up your heart. It will absolutely surprise you with it's capacity to reach out and love others.
My heart has been broken. Numerous times. I went through a painful divorce that I was pretty sure had shattered my heart into a thousand pieces. I lost friends over it, and then lost other friends over various disappointing circumstances later. I have started over more times than I care to admit. Each time, my heart feels raw and vulnerable and completely disoriented. And don't get me wrong. There is definitely value in isolating yourself for a time while you heal and to get your feet back underneath you. But I have found that my heart never completely recovers until I swallow my fear and step back out into the world to love again. It feels so counter-intuitive in the beginning. It feels like it's never going to work. All this putting-yourself-out-there isn't going to amount anything.
But then something magical happens. You start to love. And it feels good. And you start to realize it matters less about how much others return your love, and more about letting your own heart gush all over everything and everyone around you.
Having a big heart is a beautiful thing.
