“I began to think I was cursed, a stepping-stone, unlovable, giving these guys the confidence they needed to meet The One. I am very lonely and haven’t been able to open up to men because of this”
I’m 36. A long time ago, my first boyfriend, of six years, met the love of his life within a week after we broke up. I had ended it. He was extremely doting and spoiled me rotten, but we had good childish reasons to end it. He was totally adoring, however, which really messed me up for future standards of male regard. He and his new wife built this beautiful, creative career and partnership together.
And when you tell stories about how much LESS THAN the next woman you are, how you keep being upstaged by scary predatory ladies ready to snatch your doting boy out of your hands? That makes you feel like a wilty plant in a desiccated terrarium. You aren’t watering your little buddies. You’re letting your snails go hungry and starve. You’re punishing yourself.
I do think that there’s something magical about the lessons the world wants to teach us, over and over again, until we finally learn. When I was younger, I was incredibly possessive and I wanted to be the best, the hottest, the favorite of all time, always. So I kept getting schooled. My exes kept dating my closest friends. Nothing made me feel more threatened and worthless than thinking about these exes and my friends together. Their relationships meant that I didn’t matter at all.
I hate that stuff partly because I’m still competitive, sure, and I’m annoyed by the illusions therein. But I also hate that stuff because it doesn’t look healthy to me. It reminds me of my younger self, who was addicted to delusions of grandeur, whose ego needed feeding constantly, who was propped up by bad stories and also destroyed by bad stories. I couldn’t open up back then, just like you. Opening up meant showing my true self. I wanted to be an enviable illusion and not a person.
When you ask yourself these questions, you are digging up your dead plants and rifling through the dirt of your desiccated terrarium, a necessary but unpleasant task that makes it possible to start over. You are casting out old stories about what makes you unlovable and what makes you feel lonely. You are dedicating yourself to building up a new, delightful universe inside of you, one that is kind to sweet, tender, growing things. You are going to fertilize and water this soil regularly.
France Dernières Nouvelles, France Actualités
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