I want to throw out another disclaimer before you all read this specific post. First of all, this is going to be a little lengthy so please bear with me. Second, this was the hardest one to write, by far. I’m going to try and make as much sense as I can and hopefully reach the conclusion I intend. Guess we’ll see…
Since the last time I posted, I was asked a certain question several times by a few different people. The question was harmless enough: “What are you looking for in a man?” Sounds like it should be easy to answer, right? Well apparently not for me! I’ll admit I had been drinking…a lot…but I should be able to answer that question! For some reason, the only response I could come up with was “I want someone who can hang and who I don’t have to babysit in a big group of people.” I mean…WHAT??? What does that even mean? Sure, that’s a nice quality, and definitely somewhere on the list, but certainly isn’t number one.
Well, after that mess of a response, I got to thinking about my past relationships—or more accurately, lack of relationships. And most importantly, how that has lead to my current state of mind about myself—since that’s what this blog is all about after all! I wanted to pinpoint the things that have happened that have lead me to where I am now. I need to be able to answer the question “what are you looking for…” in a thoughtful and meaningful way.
I hate to admit that men have affected how I feel about myself. I think it’s an annoying reality that most women, if not all, suffer from. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but for a long time, and maybe even still, I based my self worth on whether I had a guy in my life. After a lifetime of unsuccessful relationships (attempted relationships), how could I not have a poor self-image? I mean, if that’s how I place value in myself, then it’s no wonder I’ve got issues.
So indulge me a little bit and I’ll backtrack and see if I can figure out where things went wrong.
As I mentioned in my first post, I had ‘boyfriends’ growing up. I put that in quotes because I’m not sure that I count my 6th grade boyfriend who I traded notes with or the boy who I sat in silence on the phone with when I was 12. I suppose my first real boyfriend came around when I was in 7th grade.
Side Note: I’m not going to name any names or share any pictures. If any of these guys read this, they will know who they are and that’s satisfaction enough for me.
So…here we go!
Boyfriend #1 was a freshman in high school, I was in 7th grade, and I thought this was MAJOR! He was my first kiss—and it actually happened at one of dad’s basketball games. I will always be happy that I have that memory. It was everything I could have wanted in a first kiss. We ‘dated’ for a few months. We exchanged endless AOL emails and AIM chats. We saw each other at almost every subsequent USI basketball game. I thought I had hit the first real boyfriend jackpot. To be fair, I had nothing to compare it to--I didn’t know any better. Then on the night of my Bat Mitzvah, I found out that he was cheating on me. My little Jewish girl’s heart was crushed.
Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have been as upset as I was. But believe me when I tell you that I thought my life was o-v-e-r! Of course I found out who the girl was and started making my comparisons. Keep in mind that this is pre-Facebook and MySpace. Finding out who she was and what she looked like was no easy task. She was older. She was taller. She was, in my opinion, prettier. I definitely wouldn’t go so far as saying that my negative self-perception started here, but it was certainly the first time it was connected to a guy. And now, looking back, I think it was just a slippery slope from then on.
After that, I could sense a clear shift in my mindset. I was untrusting and needy. I doubted anyone who showed any interest. I think I started to self-sabotage a little.
In truth, things only got worse in the self-esteem department. I moved away from Indiana—where I had lived for 9 years. I was coming into my sophomore year and I had no friends. It was a tough bag at the school I was transferring to. Luckily I had sports and some friends that naturally came with that. But I wanted that high school sweetheart moment. I wanted it so badly that I allowed myself to accept way less than I deserved. I was ok with being the second choice. As ashamed of it as I am, I was the girl that guys would go to after they broke up with their high school sweethearts. I let myself fall victim to my own belief—that I wasn’t good enough to be someone’s first choice. I lost some friends over it, and it set the stage for a college dating experience that was less than ideal.
I don’t really believe in regrets, but I regret letting my self-esteem issues come between a friend and me. So if that once upon a time friend is reading this—please know how sorry I am! Don’t know that I ever said it out loud. I wasn’t really ready to face the music.
Anyways...I moved to Tennessee in
October of 2005. I’ve only had one
‘relationship’ worth discussing.
I met this guy through some
family friends. We stayed friends for a long-time, as he had a girlfriend when
we met. We kept in touch for a
year or so and after he was single for a while, we started hanging out. Anyone
who I would describe our situation to would have said we were dating. But from
his perspective, we were just friends. I probably should have just taken the
hint and walked away at that point, but I was convinced he would change his
tune. I wanted ‘more’ with him. We made sense. We met each other’s
families. We spent time with each
other’s friends. We spent the night together several times a week (wink
wink). I even recall one time him
waking up one morning and hugging me and calling me ‘his girl.’
I was over the moon. I thought I found someone who was
different, who I didn’t need to be self-conscious with. Well, a few months later, he called me
and told me that he needed some time.
He thought I was getting too serious and he needed to think. I was upset, but I guess in the back of
my head I knew it could happen. He had warned me that he didn’t want a
relationship. The odd thing was
that he just disappeared! Didn’t return phone calls. Didn’t answer texts.
And then he pops up a few months later with a new girlfriend.
I was devastated.
Let’s fast forward to 2ish
years ago when I started my first weight loss journey. I began in February and saw this guy
again a few months later. He was
single again. I was 20 lbs
lighter. I told myself it would be
different because I was different.
I was happy now. I was
taking pride in myself and it showed on the outside.
Well. I’m sure you can guess
what happens next. But, we spent a few months getting to know each other
again. We hung out with each
other’s families. We spent time
with each other’s friends. We went
on road trips. I shared things
with him that I hadn’t shared with people before. Come October of 2012, I got a job promotion and was moving
to Chicago. I was thrilled for my
new opportunity. We were talking about the move one night, and he looked at me,
kissed me, and told me he wished I wasn’t leaving. And there I went.
Back over the moon.
I was thin.
I was successful.
I was confident.
I was happy.
So, I moved and started my
new life in Chicago. Never
expected us to continue doing what we were doing, but I also didn’t expect to
come home and find that he had moved in with a girl. It was like a storyline out of a soap opera or
something. I had a few choice
words for him and I haven’t spoken to him since. That was 17 months ago.
And now, here I am. Trying
to put together the pieces of my past and figure out how I got here. How I got to be so insecure. How I
probably wouldn’t recognize a healthy relationship if it smacked me in the
face. I think I’ve been so let
down in the past that I sabotage any potential there could be. I blame it on my weight. I blame it on my schedule. I tell myself that even if I were to
see what’s out there, it wouldn’t matter. I mean, I even got dumped by a guy I met online, and we hadn't even met yet!
That. Stops. Now.
There’s that old adage that
says, “You can’t love someone else until you love yourself.” And while I
completely believe that to be true now, up until a short while ago, it would
have more appropriately said, “I can’t love myself until someone loves me.” I’m
not sure where the change occurred, or if just taking a few days to type this
blog out is what did it. But I
have had crappy relationships with other people because I’ve had a crappy
relationship with myself. As I’ve
begun to repair that relationship, I start seeing flashes of the amazing person
I know is in me. I start seeing
the catch everyone tells me I am. The
body will follow—and people will finally learn to appreciate me for who I am
and not as the mask I’ve been wearing. As I continue down this road, I know
more positives will come—from more outlets than just men!
But—to round out this
long-winded, novel-length blog, I think I know a better answer to the question
I was asked this weekend. I am looking for my best friend. I am looking for a person who doesn’t
complete me, but who makes a better completed me! I have to be complete on my
own. I don’t want my other half,
because then I’m only half of a person.
What I want is someone who sees me for me, all my faults included, and loves me
anyway! And can that person hang in a big group of people and not have to be
babysat?? You bet your ass!
Till next time, y’all!
Xoxo
J
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