I’ve been hauling some pretty heavy baggage around. All the leftover hurt feelings, all the emotional scars, all the irrational behaviour from past relationships has lingered around me for a long time. It’s coloured my actions in current relationships, it’s effected potential relationships, & it’s even prevented me from being the best version of myself on more than one occasion.
The hurtful words of relationships past play on a loop inside my head. Telling me I’m not pretty enough, or thin enough, or just plain good enough.
Well, at least, they used to. But, now, I’m cleaning out my closet. I’ve always been a borderline hoarder of material goods, & it appears that I hold the same sentimentality when it comes to my emotional baggage.
I have been holding on to this garbage since my very first romantic encounter – a sloppy kiss at a high school party. It was my first party, he was my first boyfriend, it was my first kiss, & he broke up with me shortly after.
I was devastated. & that experience set the tone for the rest of my romantic career.
There’s been so many dudes waltzing through my life, & I haven’t felt good enough for any of them. Dating is a slippery slope when you’ve got low self-esteem, trust me. I was constantly looking for validation; I constantly needed to be reassured that things were working.
For the record, projecting your insecurities onto your significant other isn’t the best way to maintain a healthy relationship.
I just wanted boys to like me… whatever the cost may be.
That cost is usually self-respect. & self-worth. & self-love. &, you know what? That cost is just your god damn self.
Searching for a boyfriend, that constant need to have a guy in my life, made me lose myself. I became overshadowed by the emotional baggage I insisted on picking up along the way.
It’s taken a really long fucking time to even start to find myself again, but I needed to go to that place, to meet all those losers & try to get them to like me, so that I could get to the place I am now. So that I could be the person I am today.
I wish I hadn’t had to deal with all the late nights & the limp dicks. The uncomfortable car sex & the shameful mornings after. But I guess I did so that you don’t have to.
If a boy texts you after 11 o clock, he doesn’t like you. If he doesn’t at least attempt to feed you the next morning, he doesn’t like you. If he never asks you how you’re doing, he doesn’t like you. If you wake up to him humping your buttocks… well, I’m not really sure what that means to be honest.
I used to be weighed down by a lot of baggage. I had a lot of negative thoughts bouncing around in my head — I had myself convinced that I wasn’t good enough… I let myself believe that I would never be a girl any worthwhile guy would be interested in. I refused to even consider pretending to be a confident individual. I would skip conversations in favour of fooling around because I thought if a guy got to know me well enough, he might realize just how lame I actually am.
& is that why I’m single?
It used to be.
There’s a valuable lesson to be learnt here, & I guess I have all the losers in my life plus my beautiful BFF, plus myself to thank for it. Boys don’t really mind a woman with a little extra meat, or a crooked nose, or a twisted sense of humour — as long as that woman doesn’t mind them either.
Love yourself, & other people will too.