Perpetuating Abandonment: A Healing Journey of Love, Loss, and Self-Discovery
Abandonment is a deeply layered wound, one that lingers long after its initial infliction. For me, it began with an explosion ( both real and metaphorical) at the age of nine, when the familial table of love, laughter, and belonging that was my childhood shattered into silence. That table, once adorned by parents, siblings, tias, tios, grandparents, and cousins, symbolized the heart of my identity. I am the ninth daughter, a child of celebration, a reflection of love itself. And then, in an instant, that foundation was stripped away, leaving me lost and abandoned by everything that I thought I was. What I didn’t realize then, and only began to see as I entered adulthood, was that my childhood’s shattered table would become the blueprint for my romantic relationships. While I was at my loneliest, questioning my reality, I came to fully realize the pure love of our Mother Earth. I connected to a love that mirrored the love of my own mother and family growing up. I discovered a pure, real energy that gifted me the strength to continue being me, just the way that I was. This love kept me enjoying my life and still keeps me in full trust today.
So, I wasn’t just abandoned, I connected to the pure unconditional love of Mother Earth through being abandoned. When you grow up with a wound this profound, it’s easy to recreate the conditions of its existence. I’ve been perpetuating abandonment and my pattern is clear: I chose lovers who were emotionally unavailable. I found comfort in the noncommittal, the transient, the ones who would not attempt to steer the ship of my life because I wasn’t yet willing to let anyone. The fear of allowing someone to show up for my deepest emotional needs paralleled the fear of losing myself and everything else again. I’ve come to understand that my choices weren’t just random; they were karmic. They are part of a dance, call it an addiction, to the very thing I wish to escape.
Loving these men became a living experiment in creation and destruction. As much as I claimed to want to stop, I have to admit I liked it. I liked choosing these emotionally unavailable men and then attempt to experience a mind blowing love together. A love that many have lost hope on or even experienced, a love that mirrors the unconditional love of Pachamama, MamaGaia, Mother Earth, a love that saved me and is always with me giving me infinite reasons to live. I can see I chose to adore these men that don’t have much emotional status. Someone I liked and was willing to play The Abandonment Issues Game with me, where we’d build a table for “us”, imagining what life could be. We played in the experience of open communication, feeling the warm pour of vulnerability on our hearts and soul. A healing connection fully transparent that it would end, and inevitably they did. The writing was always on the wall, “It’s enjoyable until it’s not, and then The Game is over.” It’s a strange paradox to reflect on—how something as painful as abandonment can also be a gift. I’ve found the most profound love at the light end of the tunnel through my darkest childhood moments. As an adult, I loved purely, deeply, and truthfully, even when it was fleeting. Though the connections didn’t last, they carried a reflection of love’s potential.
My hope is that all my past experiences guide me into a more emotionally available place because I don’t really know how to effectively grow in that way. These relations perpetuate a cycle I’ve been trying to break: the cycle of giving my all without reciprocation. I write in alignment with these hopes; as a 33-year-old mother to a magical 6-year-old boy, I am claiming to be ready. To say I’m ready and to be ready are two different things. I am changing the cycle. I sit at my table with these lessons as its architect and its protector. The seat in front of me remains open for a Captain, a partner to share in the journey. Filling that seat requires a level of trust and vulnerability I haven’t fully mastered. My truth is, letting someone take the role of Captain means relinquishing a measure of control. It means trusting that someone else will steer with the same love and care that I’ve cultivated for myself, my heart, my bulldog, and my son, and that’s terrifying! After years of navigating the storm alone, the thought of handing over even a part of the wheel feels like a gamble I’ve been actively avoiding. I idolize a partner who desires to sit at my table—not just for a feast or a festival, but for all of them. Someone who sees the beauty in the life I’ve created, who cultivates his own life in beauty and wants to build upon what can be “ours” together. I am calling in a man who understands the responsibility of being a Captain, who wants to grow healthy life together, to build a home, who leads with warmth and strength, and who embraces the challenge of love as much as its joys.
So, where does this leave me? I am willing to break the chains of my addiction to this attachment of being abandoned. I affirm my faith in the love of the divine. Healing is not a destination; it’s a process, a practice. I’m learning that these games that mirror my past traumas aren't fulfilling. I’m learning to recognize the patterns before they begin, to sit with my desires and fears, and to confront the part of me that still finds comfort in chaos. One way I’ve begun to shift is through intentional fasting from the distractions that pull me away from my truth. Im focusing on my relationships with my family, my community, my creativity, my writing, my spiritual practice, and my own self-realization. This fast is not about deprivation; it’s about realignment. It’s about calling in what I truly want, healthy relationships, romantic and plutonic, that match my love and gently enhance it.
As I continue this journey, my spirit dances in knowing it’s a perfectly imperfect play that is mine to observe filled with light, pure love, laughter, and possibility. Any joy I've experienced with others taught me about myself and about the ways we heal through connection. Now, I am claiming to be ready for something different. I am ready to choose a beloved connection that doesn’t perpetuate abandonment but transforms it. I will entertain love that sits at the head of the table with me, steering our relation-ship toward something life affirming and long-lasting.
By Violeta-Gaia Obelar
So, I wasn’t just abandoned, I connected to the pure unconditional love of Mother Earth through being abandoned. When you grow up with a wound this profound, it’s easy to recreate the conditions of its existence. I’ve been perpetuating abandonment and my pattern is clear: I chose lovers who were emotionally unavailable. I found comfort in the noncommittal, the transient, the ones who would not attempt to steer the ship of my life because I wasn’t yet willing to let anyone. The fear of allowing someone to show up for my deepest emotional needs paralleled the fear of losing myself and everything else again. I’ve come to understand that my choices weren’t just random; they were karmic. They are part of a dance, call it an addiction, to the very thing I wish to escape.
Loving these men became a living experiment in creation and destruction. As much as I claimed to want to stop, I have to admit I liked it. I liked choosing these emotionally unavailable men and then attempt to experience a mind blowing love together. A love that many have lost hope on or even experienced, a love that mirrors the unconditional love of Pachamama, MamaGaia, Mother Earth, a love that saved me and is always with me giving me infinite reasons to live. I can see I chose to adore these men that don’t have much emotional status. Someone I liked and was willing to play The Abandonment Issues Game with me, where we’d build a table for “us”, imagining what life could be. We played in the experience of open communication, feeling the warm pour of vulnerability on our hearts and soul. A healing connection fully transparent that it would end, and inevitably they did. The writing was always on the wall, “It’s enjoyable until it’s not, and then The Game is over.” It’s a strange paradox to reflect on—how something as painful as abandonment can also be a gift. I’ve found the most profound love at the light end of the tunnel through my darkest childhood moments. As an adult, I loved purely, deeply, and truthfully, even when it was fleeting. Though the connections didn’t last, they carried a reflection of love’s potential.
My hope is that all my past experiences guide me into a more emotionally available place because I don’t really know how to effectively grow in that way. These relations perpetuate a cycle I’ve been trying to break: the cycle of giving my all without reciprocation. I write in alignment with these hopes; as a 33-year-old mother to a magical 6-year-old boy, I am claiming to be ready. To say I’m ready and to be ready are two different things. I am changing the cycle. I sit at my table with these lessons as its architect and its protector. The seat in front of me remains open for a Captain, a partner to share in the journey. Filling that seat requires a level of trust and vulnerability I haven’t fully mastered. My truth is, letting someone take the role of Captain means relinquishing a measure of control. It means trusting that someone else will steer with the same love and care that I’ve cultivated for myself, my heart, my bulldog, and my son, and that’s terrifying! After years of navigating the storm alone, the thought of handing over even a part of the wheel feels like a gamble I’ve been actively avoiding. I idolize a partner who desires to sit at my table—not just for a feast or a festival, but for all of them. Someone who sees the beauty in the life I’ve created, who cultivates his own life in beauty and wants to build upon what can be “ours” together. I am calling in a man who understands the responsibility of being a Captain, who wants to grow healthy life together, to build a home, who leads with warmth and strength, and who embraces the challenge of love as much as its joys.
So, where does this leave me? I am willing to break the chains of my addiction to this attachment of being abandoned. I affirm my faith in the love of the divine. Healing is not a destination; it’s a process, a practice. I’m learning that these games that mirror my past traumas aren't fulfilling. I’m learning to recognize the patterns before they begin, to sit with my desires and fears, and to confront the part of me that still finds comfort in chaos. One way I’ve begun to shift is through intentional fasting from the distractions that pull me away from my truth. Im focusing on my relationships with my family, my community, my creativity, my writing, my spiritual practice, and my own self-realization. This fast is not about deprivation; it’s about realignment. It’s about calling in what I truly want, healthy relationships, romantic and plutonic, that match my love and gently enhance it.
As I continue this journey, my spirit dances in knowing it’s a perfectly imperfect play that is mine to observe filled with light, pure love, laughter, and possibility. Any joy I've experienced with others taught me about myself and about the ways we heal through connection. Now, I am claiming to be ready for something different. I am ready to choose a beloved connection that doesn’t perpetuate abandonment but transforms it. I will entertain love that sits at the head of the table with me, steering our relation-ship toward something life affirming and long-lasting.
By Violeta-Gaia Obelar
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