There's a connection I've always blamed myself for. For getting attached, for holding on, for allowing someone's presence to become such a familiar part of my existence. But lately, I've begun to wonder whether attachment was ever something one person could create entirely on their own. I mean, attachment isn't merely a one-way passage, is it?
We don't just wake up one morning and decide to make someone a part of our lives. Somewhere along the way, they make room for us. They offer us comfort, give us space to exist without pretence, make us feel safe enough to lower our guards and familiar enough to let them into the little corners of our everyday lives. They make us believe in a connection, give us reasons to nurture it, and perhaps, without either of us realising it, begin building a little world together.
And then, one day, when that world falls apart, we somehow find ourselves treating attachment as though it were a personal failure. As though one person simply got too comfortable, felt too much, or misunderstood the entire existence of a connection. But isn't that a rather convenient way of looking at things?
Whether it is a friendship, a relationship, or any connection that finds its way into our lives, attachment is often the accumulation of shared moments, familiar gestures, mutual affection and all the little assurances that make someone's presence feel like a place to return to. Of course, this isn't to say that everyone who makes us feel something owes us a lifetime of staying.
People change, circumstances intervene, feelings evolve, and sometimes even the most beautiful connections reach their end. But an ending doesn't necessarily rewrite the beginning, nor does someone's decision to leave make the connection a creation of just the person who stayed.
And I say this knowing that I, too, have been on the other side of it. I have made people feel welcome, offered them a space in my little world, become a familiar part of their days, and perhaps made them believe in a connection that I eventually couldn't sustain. I have made mistakes, too. I have been someone else's reason for attachment, just as others have been mine.
Perhaps that's the part we conveniently overlook. We remember who stayed attached, but forget who helped make that attachment possible. We remember who struggled to let go, but seldom acknowledge who once gave them reasons to hold on.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that attachment isn't always the consequence of one person's inability to let go. Sometimes, it is the aftermath of something two people unknowingly, willingly, and perhaps beautifully built together.
A home doesn't become a home merely because someone decides to live in it. Someone opened the door, someone made room, someone brought warmth into it. And even if one eventually leaves, it doesn't make the other foolish for remembering what it once felt like to belong there.
So, maybe we should be a little kinder to ourselves and a little more conscious of the people we invite into our worlds. Because we may not always be able to stay, but we should at least acknowledge that we were once part of what made someone feel at home.
~Jaanu
We don't just wake up one morning and decide to make someone a part of our lives. Somewhere along the way, they make room for us. They offer us comfort, give us space to exist without pretence, make us feel safe enough to lower our guards and familiar enough to let them into the little corners of our everyday lives. They make us believe in a connection, give us reasons to nurture it, and perhaps, without either of us realising it, begin building a little world together.
And then, one day, when that world falls apart, we somehow find ourselves treating attachment as though it were a personal failure. As though one person simply got too comfortable, felt too much, or misunderstood the entire existence of a connection. But isn't that a rather convenient way of looking at things?
Whether it is a friendship, a relationship, or any connection that finds its way into our lives, attachment is often the accumulation of shared moments, familiar gestures, mutual affection and all the little assurances that make someone's presence feel like a place to return to. Of course, this isn't to say that everyone who makes us feel something owes us a lifetime of staying.
People change, circumstances intervene, feelings evolve, and sometimes even the most beautiful connections reach their end. But an ending doesn't necessarily rewrite the beginning, nor does someone's decision to leave make the connection a creation of just the person who stayed.
And I say this knowing that I, too, have been on the other side of it. I have made people feel welcome, offered them a space in my little world, become a familiar part of their days, and perhaps made them believe in a connection that I eventually couldn't sustain. I have made mistakes, too. I have been someone else's reason for attachment, just as others have been mine.
Perhaps that's the part we conveniently overlook. We remember who stayed attached, but forget who helped make that attachment possible. We remember who struggled to let go, but seldom acknowledge who once gave them reasons to hold on.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that attachment isn't always the consequence of one person's inability to let go. Sometimes, it is the aftermath of something two people unknowingly, willingly, and perhaps beautifully built together.
A home doesn't become a home merely because someone decides to live in it. Someone opened the door, someone made room, someone brought warmth into it. And even if one eventually leaves, it doesn't make the other foolish for remembering what it once felt like to belong there.
So, maybe we should be a little kinder to ourselves and a little more conscious of the people we invite into our worlds. Because we may not always be able to stay, but we should at least acknowledge that we were once part of what made someone feel at home.
~Jaanu
