|1994 (age 13) was a rough year.|
As a 6 year-old on the elementary school black top (in a brand new town), I singled out the boy I'd have a crush for the next 11 years. While I ended up being a bit of an outsider, he ended up being the captain and quarterback of the varsity football team, a great basketball player, an honors student, and an all-around nice guy.
He taught me an important lesson: I think he knew that I had a crush on him all those years (I have the subtlety of a sledgehammer sometimes) and he never once disrespected me for my feelings. He was kind and gracious even when he didn't have to be (like the time I called him half an hour after finding out that my mother had died, and I just needed to hear his voice and have hope). At a time when it was easy for everyone else to make fun of me, he never did (or if he did, he did it in a way where it never got back to me).
I think that I was keenly aware that from age 8 onward I was an overweight, pimply emotional wreck, though I was smart and talented. I knew that I wasn't a catch or popular, and that I probably would never get a chance to date a guy like him. I had a few other crushes over the years, but my crush on him was enduring and grounded me. In a way, adoring him was a promise to myself to always aim high, to have standards, to not give up on myself.
|This is my sexy face.|
But it was so much easier to swallow when I didn't think I even deserved a chance. It was so much easier when I thought that I was dateless and unloveable when I didn't love myself. Now that I've had a chance to know myself and love myself, I have no clue why guys aren't beating down the doors to love me. (It can't just be that I'm intimidating.)
Never once in my life have I had a guy relentlessly woo me. I've never had a guy tell me that it would be the end of life as he knew it if I look his way. I've never had a man stand under my window with a boom box (mp3 players just don't have the same gravity). No flowers sent to my office every day.
Thirty-two years spinning round the sun, and very little romance to show for it. This makes me so very sad. I've yet to experience the kind of person that I am or could be with reciprocal love under my wings. I have the love of my friends (**hugs to everyone**) and family, but it's very different than romantic love, eh?
For many years, I think that I was afraid of loving someone because I know the absolute heart-wringing pain that losing that person feels like. It's very natural to want to avoid pain like that, and so I did. But all the same, I'm that foolish girl that runs straight at love, full speed, without slowing down to let it come to me. I'm not afraid of my heart breaking as much as I'm afraid of living a life where it never gets to be used to its full potential.
I know that scares the shit out of boys. Good thing I am looking for a man, right?
Love the new picture. If that doesn't scream "ORAL PLEASURE", I don't know what does.Reply
You should probably go to therapy. What you are putting out there isn't attracting (in the vibrational sense) any romance or potential mates. This probably has a lot to do with all the loss you experienced and your still being emotionally unavailable as a result. It doesn't matter (to emotionally healthy people how much you love and respect your body/self) what matters is if you have the wherewithal to work at, compromise within and sustain a long term relationship.Reply
Sometimes all that self acceptance comes at the price of self-absorption. You seem a little 'one track mind' the last 3 or so years I'm reading your blog. This translates as narcissistic. Another negative relationship trait. Maybe less focus on your body and more on what you can bring to the world should be the focus of your thirties.
Try working on yourself and your issues and not what you look like so much.
Anonymous 1: I think the picture screams many things....Reply
Anonymous 2: It's really easy to sit back in judgment and say things like that without actually knowing me. It's my personal blog, and by definition, narcissistic and introspective. And on top of having done the hard work of therapy (over many years), this is where I turn to vent and give voice to my feelings. I'm not particularly interested in the reaction of an armchair psychologist trying to make themselves feel important by passing judgment on my vulnerabilities.
I met my adorable husband at 29 and we married in my 30s. I think my problem was that I came off as being desperate - because I was! Definitely a sledgehammer. I don't really have any advice to give you except the trite old usual of being yourself and getting to know people first before trying to hunt them down for romance (difficult I know). Just don't give up.Reply
And anonymous 2, you are a weirdo.
@Natalie -- I feel you regarding romance being kinda like those Magic Eye puzzles -- if you looks straight at it, you'll never see it.Reply
As for your other comment... **giggles**
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