Suppose your whole life there was a door before you and everyone told you that what was behind it was terrible and evil and that you shouldn't open it and furthermore, if you did open it, all sorts of terrible things would happen to you.
And let's say you believed it. You believed that if you opened this door, you would find nothing but horror and guilt and misery behind it. The fear that everyone created around you in relation to this door made you so scared to open the door.
But let's say that you had such a strong, uncontrollable desire to open the door, and no matter what you did to suppress or eradicate those desires, you felt not just a desire, but an actual need to open the door. You actually thought if you didn't open the door, you would die; and yet nearly everyone around you was telling you that if you did open the door, you would die.
And let's say one day you fearfully put your hand on the knob of the door, feeling a great sense of trepidation and guilt and confusion, and yet at the same time, a feeling that not only should you open the door, but that it was actually right and good to do so.
And let's say you finally open the door, expecting to find the calamities of the world ready to pounce upon you and feed upon your very soul when, instead, you discover that what is behind the door is not at all what people told you was behind the door.
No, what is behind the door turns out to be a place filled with more love, beauty, and freedom than you could have even imagined. You discover that what is behind the door makes you more happy than you ever thought possible. It isn't at all bad like people led you to believe it would be; quite the opposite - behind that door you have found the most beautiful place you could ever reside, and it is a place you never want to leave.
And living there, you ask yourself, "Why was I so scared to open the door? Why did I believe all the awful things I was told about what was behind the door? Why did I let fear overshadow the love and joy I have discovered behind the door?"
I remember a distinct moment early in my relationship with Jonah which I wrote about here. We were on vacation at Disneyland and were quite innocently lying in bed together. I had recently confessed to Jonah that I had feelings for him, but was still very confused about how to deal with them. As I said in my post, "...in the morning when we woke up, Jonah started holding me, and I let him because I had wanted that all along. It just felt so nice to be held by someone I loved who loved me. It felt right, and I didn’t feel guilty. We cuddled for a bit, and he tussled my hair for a while, and I really enjoyed that... ...I just felt so happy to be in his arms."
I remember feeling so good being in his arms, but still fighting the feeling that it felt right and good because I had been told for so long that it wasn't. It took a while to let myself "walk through the door," and heaven praise Jonah for being patient and understanding and compassionate enough to stick around while I decided whether or not I actually wanted to go through the door.
Well, I'm through the door, baby, and all I can say is, I'm so, so glad I opened the door. I have absolutely no regrets in doing so. None.