Growing up, I was afraid of the dark. I hated going into a room that was coated in blackness and especially falling asleep in a lightless bedroom. Things looked so much scarier shrouded in shadows. A pile of clothes transforms into a dripping monster. A teddy bear looks like a gross alien. Without light, everything is
not true to form…
When my imagination got too much for me to take, I would jet to turn on a lamp, a nightlight, the ceiling light, or in moments of deep terror, all three. Visibility would flood in and I would be calm again. I would climb back into bed and sleep soundly, assured that no scary threats could hide in the light.
How do you flip on the light switch in a relationship that grew in the dark?
Two of my friends are in secret relationships, romances that are, for the time being, kept hidden. Their reasons for it are valid:
Outside parties being attracted to one partner.
Wanting the connection to be kept out of the mouths of others.
But the secrecy is spilling doubt and misgivings into their hearts. One friend expressed,
“I don’t feel like he cares for me.”
“Not the way I need to be loved.”