Why I am obsessed with relationships

This picture of me was taken circa 2002. I had shaved my head, packed a toothbrush & sleeping bag into a small backpack, and left Canada to explore the United States without an itinerary or a destination.

I wanted to know where the wind would take me if I did not make a plan. My only intention was to expand my consciousness.

I had shut down my heart to numb the pain of being socially rejected as a kid and teenager. Living “in my head” took the edge off the pain, but I was still struggling with underlying anxiety. I knew something was sorely missing.

I prided myself with being unaffected by others and not caring about what they thought of me. I thought I had found freedom by rejecting the slavery of conformity.

But this was just half the puzzle. I was still seeking. I knew the road of freedom wasn’t over. After nearly a year of bohemian life—hitchhiking, couchsurfing (before it was a thing), and rejecting all gurus & religions I came across (there were LOTS), I realized that it was time to focus on the one thing I had been avoiding: human relationships.

I had socially isolated myself as a protection mechanism against the cruelty of the world. I found some level of freedom through this detachment—but yet another cage had appeared before me.

My heart was blocked. My ability to love was impaired because I wanted to keep myself safe from getting hurt in relationships. I realized that re-engaging with a very imperfect society and its imperfect people, in interdependence rather than independence, was the next necessary step on my path of liberation.

Being willing to get hurt, rejected, heartbroken even, was a necessary part of reigniting my fire—the fire I was born with as a naturally loving, connected, and generous human being. I had to open the gates of my heart consciously as an adult to become truly free.

I grew roots and planted a friendship & love garden. I trained myself to trust, give, and be generous with others. It wasn’t easy: it was like learning to walk again after being crippled for years. But it paved the way to a deeper sense of peace than I imagined possible.

This is still the beautiful path I am walking and sharing with others now. This is why I do what I do: I know how painful it is to feel isolated, blocked from truly loving other human beings—romantically or otherwise. An isolated life is not what we come here on Earth for—and there is so much we can do to open ourselves up to deep love.

Sending love to all of you!

Marie xo