Whoa, Bruna, simmer down.
I know that headline is a bit abrasive, but I’m not going to apologize for it, because there’s a lot of truth there. And it’s time we talked about it.
I am one of the most self-deprecating human beings on the planet, and sure, it’s funny to talk shit about yourself and address your flaws in a humorous way, but we all know there’s a layer of validity there that we often refuse to acknowledge, and I’m kind of done skating over necessary topics when it interferes with my growth.
So what am I getting at?
Well, I found myself lost in thought recently, which is not unlike me, but the topic at hand really piqued my interest–why is it easier for me to accept that someone is fucking me over than just understanding that things don’t always pan out the way I envision them to?
For example, if I’m talking to a good guy and things seem to be going well, my first thought isn’t, “Fuck yes, let’s do this.” My first thought is unfortunately, “OK, what’s wrong with him? Why does he like me?”
That’s so sad, LOL. Sure, part of that stems from past wounds that refuse to heal (or that I refuse to place in the trash bin with the rest of the Fuckboy Files), but I strongly believe that sense of insecurity and self-doubt has less to do with my previous encounters and more to do with the value I place on myself.
Because let’s be real–why wouldn’t a great guy like me? I’m dope AF.
So what do we end up doing? If things aren’t going in line with the script in our head, or perhaps not progressing to our desired speed, we start to find excuses as to why that is (read: stalk his shit or overanalyze his actions until we find something that fits into the explanation we’ve already created in our mind).
And, that is such a no-no.
Have you ever found yourself liking a guy, and he seems to like you, too, but you’re wondering why he just hasn’t made you his boo yet? Who cares that it’s only been 3 weeks, let’s just keep it real and do the damn thing, right? So now that he’s not professing his undying love for you, you begin to wonder where his loyalties lie. Does he even really like you? Probably not, right? All those sweet things he said and did were just a ploy to make you like him, right? He’s probably like that with 15 other girls, right? RIGHT?!
So, as you can see, you’ve already created a conclusion in your head that this guy is a no-good playboy, and now you go searching to find the evidence to prove what you already claim to be true.
You stalk his social media, and go deep into that hot girl’s page to see what he’s been commenting on her pics. And the second you find something, even if it’s relatively innocent, you treat it like it’s a damn landmine.
See, I knew it! He never fucking cared about me. He just commented on this girl’s photo a week ago. That fucker.
But he didn’t even say anything bad…
It doesn’t matter, he wants to have sex with her, you can tell.
I mean, Jesus Christ. It’s exhausting, and it’s draining, and the reality of the matter is that more often than not, the actual scenario is probably not even close to the one you’ve manipulated yourself to believe.
And you know what he’d think if he knew you were doing this?
I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative, one I have never asked to be apart of.
[Pause for affect…]
[And we’re back.]
I had a conversation about this with one of my best friends recently, and the root of why I’ve done this in the past was like a slap in the face.
“I think I went searching for things to fit the narrative in my head that he’s a fuckboy so I could result to the OH GREAT HE’S LIKE EVERY OTHER GUY excuse, because that would be easy,” I told her.
She wrote back, “It’s so much easier to think he’s a fuckboy so you don’t catch feelings,” to which I responded, “Or worse, easier to think he’s a fuckboy than to believe a legit good man would want to be with me. That’s sad.”
Sad, but honest. And that has nothing to do with the guy, and everything to do with me.
Now, are there times when your detective skills prove that he actually is a stupid asshole? Sure. But the overgeneralization that we often resort to needs to take a hike. You wouldn’t want to be compared to that hoodrat who cheated on him, would you? Exactly. The hard part is getting rid of this black and white dichotomy deciphering people’s behavior: if he’s with me, he loves me. If he’s not with me, he never cared about me.
Yeah, that would be easy and nice to believe, but there’s about 50 shades of gray up in there, too. And, unfortunately, that’s where a lot of us are living.
Sometimes someone can care about you and not be with you. Trust me, that’s hard for me to even type, but that’s some true shit right there. And that doesn’t take away from the sincerity and love that they have for you, it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. Whether you want to remain in contact with that person or chuck the deuces is up to you. But turning them into a person they’re not or diminishing your own worth and the magic you may have shared because it makes it easier on you to cope with the outcome isn’t fair to anyone.
Relinquishing your desire to fall back on that approach is called being an adult, and adulting is fucking hard. Not just because of bills and rent and responsibilities, but because you don’t have an excuse anymore to continue with juvenile thinking. If you’re not actively trying to expand your mental and emotional capacity to handle adult relationships, that’s on you. And in cases like these, you gotta do the work, which means: practice open and honest communication, build a strong foundation within yourself, know your worth, don’t write something off before giving it a chance, don’t let your fears tamper with what’s real, and be willing to accept whatever happens for what it is–nothing more and nothing less.
My girl responded to the text questioning my worth with, “You know you’re a good woman. You just haven’t been treated well by a good man yet. That’s not your fault.”
I do know I’m a good woman. I’m a great woman. But she’s wrong, there is some fault on my end. Knowing I’m a good woman is different than owning that I’m a good woman. Knowing I’m a good woman is different than acknowledging that the good woman I am in my friendships, business relationships and family interactions is the same good woman when it comes to love. Nothing changes, so why do I forget that good woman exists when a man is involved?
She’s there and she can most definitely attract a good man with genuine intentions.
So, while her response was touching and somewhat accurate, I can take the L here. I can admit that sometimes I self-sabotage great situations either because I feel unworthy or because I get too insecure. My journey to self-love has not run smooth, and it’s an ongoing trek, but what do I always say? Awareness is the first step to righting your wrongs.
I’m aware. I’m not afraid of a challenge. And I’ll be damned if I fuck up a good thing for some stupid immature shit like this, because I’m a great woman who deserves a great man and great love.