Romantic Blunders in Baja
Sunrise in Baja California Sur
Every time I try to write about Baja I get stuck, so I’m mostly going to skip it. Maybe someday I’ll write about it because it’s an interesting story, but the truth is that I still don’t really understand what happened.
I went to Baja for a guy… A guy I really liked, find inspiring, and who it was easy for me to see myself with. We had dated while I was still living in the Bay Area. When I arrived in the town he lives in, he wouldn’t see me. He wouldn’t pick up when I called. He responded only to texts.
His situation was complicated. My timing was unfortunate. He is a kind person. I can only assume that when I showed up he was overwhelmed and juggling too many things.
Still, I wish he had talked to me, even if it was just to tell me that he wasn’t available for what I wanted. When people won’t see or speak to me I interpret that to mean that I am not important to them and that they do not feel that I am worth the time or effort it would take to communicate or spend time with me. It hurts me.
The situation was very confusing. Was it all just a dream? Maybe I imagined it. Perhaps it was never real to begin with; simply a pretty story I concocted due to intense romantic boredom. Honestly, it’s probably the most I’ve ever had to question my own sanity.
I had hoped that by going to Baja one of two things would happen: either I would end up with a partner and a beautiful conclusion to a very romantic story, or this person and I would both get the closure I felt we needed.
Neither of these things happened. It’s okay. I’ve cried my tears and I’ll continue to cry them because I am secretly a hopeless romantic and I just can’t fucking help myself. It’s fine. I still feel sad about it, but I regret nothing.
I’ll tell you what I did get out of all this... I managed to impress myself, which is rare. My last few years in Oakland I was very closed off romantically, but almost completely oblivious to how shut down I’d become. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the people I dated to unveil themselves as assholes (sometimes they were, sometimes they weren’t). I couldn’t remember how to feel emotionally safe in a romantic context, and I didn’t know how to make anyone else feel safe either. I subverted all of my innately romantic impulses and hid any adoration I felt because some part of me believed that if anyone knew how much I cared, they would stop valuing me and bail emotionally. It’s taken a lot of healing, therapy, attachment work, and working with plants to get myself to a point where I felt like I could romantically engage without damaging myself.
Going to Baja was a large emotional risk. It’s been a long time since I made such a bold, romantic gesture. Obviously, my efforts failed. While I was still living in Oakland such a failure such would have crushed me, leaving me scarred and embittered. Yet I feel no embitterment, nor any lingering sense of anger. I had moments of anger while I was still in Baja (I get angry when I feel ignored), but these faded quickly because I was able to stick with and process my pain. I was able to do a lot of deep work with plant spirits and fall into the loving arms of Rose, Lavender, and Hawthorne who helped me heal while I was hurting.
This experience allowed me to see how far I’ve come in the past year or so… Sure, I failed. Sure, from the looks of it I may have pursued a man who was not emotionally available to me, but I also allowed myself to be vulnerable and go after someone I really wanted. I opened myself up to rejection. I did something that 20 year old Kristina (an unabashed romantic and kickass girlfriend) would have approved of. So in this way I’m proud of myself. It’s like I’ve managed to restore my factory settings back to what they used to be (romantically speaking). My heart is more open and more resilient than it’s been in a very long time; I’ve stopped hiding behind my previously typical veil of aloofness and faux stoicism.
Many other great things came out of my time in Baja, but I don’t want to talk about that now. There are a thousand things I want to say about all this, but the more I try to write about it, the more overwhelmed I become, so I’m going to close.
To that guy in Baja if you’re reading this: Whatever efforts you made in my direction, I want you to know that I appreciate them. I wanted things between us to work out, but I respect that you made a different choice. I wish you well. I wish you healing.