Eleana Kouneli

They say breakups are hard to do. You invest in a person for a short or large amount of your life and breaking that bond no matter how short or long you spend with the person, is never easy. It’s like losing a part of ourselves when that person is no longer with us. Last month, I was harshly separated from the man I was seeing. We were together for seven months, a short time in retrospect or in comparison to the years I’ve spent with other partners, but an intense, overwhelming and damaging relationship none the less. I loved and cared for him like I’ve done no other man before, and I was devastated with this separation more than any other in my life.

Realizing full well that I didn’t belong with this person, nor he with me, still didn’t stop me from feeling absolute despair. We were very different people, his love immature, his attention erratic, his treatment would swing between sweet, tender and considerate, to demeaning, disrespectful and at worst verbally and emotionally abusive. I was with a deeply insecure man who did everything in his power to make me feel insecure, because lets face it misery loves company. And no matter what I did I always felt I was the one to blame. Even through all of that, I crumbled at the realization that I would have no further communication, contact, or connection. After a heated argument, he was adamant, none was allowed or possible between us.

It felt that a knife was plunged into my heart. I could not sleep or eat for days. I was crushed, I was alone again, I had no one to turn to or talk to like I did with him, or so I thought. I missed his presence in my life despite our problems, quarrels and miscommunication. I soon realized I had lost days and nights, in utter sadness, barely functioning, longing for contact, forgiveness, and resolution. After one last attempt at communication, that was met with police intervention and threats of restraining orders I was utterly defeated. I had no hope of communication that didn’t involve insults, accusations and pure vindictiveness. Upon realizing that, I underwent a transformation that at no other time in my life had occurred.

I started to break up with the old me. I broke up with the little girl who didn’t feel worthy or important. We all know that little girl. The little girl who was afraid of her dad, the little girl who was hurt and neglected, emotionally an physically by every man she had ever been with. And very painfully, through shedding, years of patterns and habits I started to realize I was not living the life, or love I wanted or deserved.

I broke up with the little girl who needed approval or attention to be validated or recognized. I broke up with the little girl who didn’t believe in her strength or power or beauty or choices. I broke up with the girl who took morsels of love and attention, in the place of real love and attention, I broke up with the girl who thought that abuse, asshole behavior and sexist bravado were attractive and worthy of my time. I broke up with the girl who thought that she needed attention from a man to feel sexy, beautiful, and strong.

“I broke up with the little girl who didn’t feel worthy or important.”

I let that girl go, because the choices she had made no longer were serving her or had a purpose for the woman she wanted and deserved to be. A woman who is loved because she is strong, a woman who is respected because she is creative, thoughtful, and tender. A woman who is given space to be who she is, a woman who is listened to, a woman who is treated with kindness and compassion when things are not perfect, and who’s not run over, trampled or diminished because she has her own opinions. I am scared, slightly insecure at times, unsure but determined more than ever to find a path to success, a path to community, a path to love, a path to my best self. I am that woman.

In the end I realized I wasn’t breaking up with this man, who in retrospect had no lasting impact or influence in who I was. A man who came briefly into my life and tried in so many ways to break me, see me with his own eyes, and ignore what I had to offer. A man who I had found in so many other men in the past. A man who could not accept my love or give love in return. A man who really didn’t see me, a man who really didn’t love me. I was breaking up with the abusive, the self loathing, controlling, narcissistic behavior I thought I deserved. And I started loving, and embracing, the woman who came out of this battle with many scars, yet with wisdom that this paradigm no longer serves her needs. The little girl is no longer, and the woman who is emerging is who I will embrace with my whole heart.

I realized that no one can make you doubt your own purpose but yourself. And now that am alone, I cherish every moment I have with this amazing, loving, creative, brave, sexy, beautiful, funny, goofy, erotic, strong, bold and daring woman I want to get to know better.

This is a heartfelt thank you to all the bastards who brought me to this point. A thank you to all the assholes who treated me like garbage, thank you to all the narcissistic abusive men of the past. You have made me who I am today and you cleared the path for a new woman to emerge. I am no longer that little girl anymore. Cheers.

Wow another year around the sun… It is a few days after my 39th birthday at a strange and challenging time in my life. This year was supposed to be a bit different but as the course changes, surprises, and upsets come, so does the gratitude that each year I grow older, somewhat wiser and more aware of the blessings I have and the gifts I have received along the way

I never thought I would say hey I’m 39! Does it feel like I am reaching the footsteps of 40? Absolutely not! I feel more youthful now than I ever did in my 20’s. I have never quite felt “my age” that is to say I never felt I had to represent a certain age group or way of thinking attached to my age. Generation X, Generation Y, millennials, Baby Boomers, all these groups of people defined by a certain era or when they were born, and I never thought any of that pertained to how I view myself or others around me.   As a much younger girl I used to hang out exclusively with my dad’s friends. Picture this seven-year old pig tailed kid with a bunch of forty-year old men and women trying to follow along in the conversation. My dad and his friends used to call me Despinarion- or little lady or young mademoiselle for fun, I was so proper and reserved in so many ways almost acting like an adult even as a young girl.

Later in life long after turning 30 did I feel like I was shifting in my view of the world, no longer a clueless young kid, I had more control of my life, or so I thought! There are moments that I feel I am still a young Eleana trying to navigate in the world of adults, and in other ways my very deep mothering, wise woman of the world kicks in, and figures it out for me when I’m lost in my childish naiveté.

Our age, our image in the world and our perception of ourselves always shifts in ways we can not imagine. Whenever I’ve been in the presence of young boys and girls at the ages of 14-20 I realize how confident and self-assured they might seem, compared to how I was or felt at their age. I often envy these young kids, strong, opinionated and driven in ways that I never gave myself a chance to be, or was given credit for in a very patriarchal and different society growing up in Greece in the 80’s and early 90’s.

I have had many discussions about how youth is often overlooked in Greece as being pure ignorance and inability to navigate oneself in the world, whereas experience, and older age is automatically seen as an example of innate wisdom. I beg to differ! I have recently learned a lot more from people younger than me,  who are open to new ideas and are capable of having deep and meaningful discussions even at the ages of 14-15.

I recently met a young man of 14, the son of the man I am seeing who inspired such humor, confidence and self-assurance and I hoped that he would grow up to be a wise and shining example of caring, empathy, love and communication. I myself have never had the desire or felt the pressure as the years go by to have children of my own but realize what an incredible calling and task it is to bring young people in this world who are open-minded, thoughtful, confident and respectful human beings.

At 39 I still shed the demands, the shoulds, the rules and the expectations I grew up with or self-imposed as a young girl, re imagining myself as to how I want and feel more comfortable being. If anything I am becoming more myself with age and less what people wanted me to be. Hard as it may seem, at 39 and approaching 40 I am finally becoming myself. Sure the little questions and doubts come to mind but in the end It’s absolutely amazing being my age, and I regret nothing that has happened to bring me where I am today.

“Our age, our image in the world and our perception of ourselves always shifts in ways we can not imagine.”

So this goes out to my dear friends, readers, followers, lovers, ex lovers, partners in crime, and family. I love you so much for shaping me, teaching me, showing me the way, loving and embracing me during all my shifts, changes, and versions. The soup is good and the recipe is a success. 🙂

Cheers!