I struggle to understand who y’all are, and what y’all want. Because you indicate that you like me…but then you don’t talk to me. Or I make you a personalized cookbook complete with recipes that document our 6-month anniversary and you get me…tea. Or I give you chance #2 and you give me breakup #2…and I get livid because I absolutely knew better than to give you chance #2 to begin with.
Gentlemen, I am completely aware that one cannot force timing. But I think Timing holds a grudge against me, or maybe in my naivete I go for high-achieving semi-compassionate men who don’t stick around. (Uh, the guy who did want to stick around was a former model with the body of a Greek god…but who also lived in his parent’s basement and had the emotional intelligence of a rock.)
I know who I am and what I have to offer: loyalty, companionship, kindness, a faithful listening ear, laughs, beauty, tenderness, oooh-la-la chemistry, and an adventurous (let’s have a wine picnic and pull out the two-person hammock!) spirit. These are all really great things. It’s ok for me to have needs: I want to be known, and to be respected. That’s part of staying safe and recognizing my boundaries, because I know myself well enough to say that I have a tendency to overextend: to go above and beyond with surprising you at your new office with home-made cupcakes for your birthday, to hold you, to drop whatever I’m doing just to enjoy your company. It shifts the power dynamic significantly. Instead of giving and taking, I become the constant giver…and I don’t receive much from you in return. I set myself up for this failure. I’m left wanting, resentful, and I keep mum in regards to my needs out of fear that I will be disliked or considered “needy” if I speak up.
I hate feeling vulnerable.
My brain knows what I am worth, that I am loved by God and friends and family, that I am absolutely worth hearing, worth respecting, and worth pursuing…but my heart falters as it thinks about the men who have rejected me and how it seems that either my partner isn’t in a place to commit (ahem, Adam Levine, you gorgeous human, you) or they have issue with my person (so and so disliked our diverging values and our fractured conflict management, and so and so disliked our incompatible long-term goals and I wasn’t “outdoorsy” enough for him).
No matter what anyone tells me, I am lovely and I am worth loving. It takes courage to say that.