When I was 13, there was a boy. He told me he loved me and promised me forever. We talked about getting married, starting a family and growing old together. He was The One.
When I was 14, I broke up with that boy. I broke up with him, and yet, somehow, I ended up with a broken heart.
When I was 16, there was a boy. He told me he loved me and promised me forever. We talked about getting married, starting a family and growing old together. He was The One.
When I was 18, I broke up with that boy. I broke up with him, and yet, somehow, I ended up with a broken heart.
When I was 19, there was a boy. He told me he loved me and promised me forever. We talked about getting married, starting a family and growing old together. He was The One.
When I was 20, I broke up with that boy. I broke up with him, and yet, somehow, I ended up with a broken heart.
There were countless other boys, in-between, some great, some not-so-great, all with potential to be “The One” (If you happen to be one of those boys reading this, hi there! Please don’t let this go to your head), but none have worked out for some reason or another.
I wouldn't say I’ve had any “bad” boyfriends. (Again, if you’re reading this, don’t let it go to your head. You were eh, okay). Each was a lesson. I have learned what I want and don’t want out of a relationship. I have learned things I like, which I thought I wouldn’t, and things I don’t like, which I thought I did. I have realized the things I wish I had done, had done differently, or hadn’t done at all. But without these experiences, I would not have grown. I would still be the 13-year-old who believed in love at first sight, that you only kiss one boy and spend forever with him, and that everything is all sunshine and rainbows, as you grow old together. But I am totally okay with not being that girl anymore. I am no longer 13, and the world is not a perfect place. I know that. It’s not realistic.
I recently came across a book of poetry, called “Milk and Honey” by Rupi Kaur, (If you haven’t read, I suggest you do!) and I can honestly say it has changed my life. In it, there is a quote that says, “You must want to spend the rest of your life with yourself first," which honestly meant nothing to me the first time I read it. However, one night, after a rant to my best friend, who has been happily dating her boyfriend since we were 15, about how I am going to end up alone, with 17 cats, and be the honorary aunt to her children, who gets drunk and ruins holidays (I’m sure I’m not the only one who has felt this way….), this quote really got me thinking about why my relationships haven’t worked before.
First off, what is the common denominator in all of MY relationships that have come to an end? Ding, Ding, Ding! If you guessed ME, then you were right! “You must want to spend the rest of your life with yourself first.” It sounds so simple, right? I mean, I am me, no escaping that. I’d have to spend the rest of my life with myself even if I didn’t want to… But I guess that’s the idea of the quote. I should want to. I mean, I like myself. I think I’m a pretty cool girl (the bee’s knees, if you will) and I’d want to be my friend! So what’s the issue?
I had never really thought much about self-love before. I knew what self-harm was, and I had never done anything to purposefully hurt myself, so therefore, if I wasn’t self-harming, that must be self-love, right? Not right. The more I thought about it, I realized that maybe I didn’t like myself as much as I thought… “If only I was just a little taller, tanner, skinnier, blonde etc…” “Maybe I should tweeze my eyebrows like everyone else…” “What if I played a sport, or a musical instrument, or could sing, or was an amazing artist?” “I wish I pushed myself to be a better dancer.” I have always been a perfectionist. I could always do more, be better… Nothing is was enough. This self-doubt, though not the same as self-harm, was negatively affecting me, as well as my ability to form and keep relationships with those around me.
This brings us to another quote from “Milk and Honey,” “If you are not enough for yourself, you will never be enough for someone else”. Then we get into the whole “It’s not you, it’s me” thing. No one ever wants to admit they are the problem. To me, “It’s not you, it’s me” is the excuse people use when they don’t have an excuse. But maybe it is a valid excuse. This quote was like a light bulb went off in my head. I was unhappy in my relationships because I was unhappy with myself. So, in fact, it was not them, but me. I had it so good, yet I felt like I didn’t deserve it, like I was a burden and I was holding them back. I was not good enough and he deserved better. I could not understand how someone could claim to love me so much when I did not love myself. So I push. I pushed people away. I ended relationships prematurely and somehow, I ended up brokenhearted.
That quote played over and over again in my head. “If you are not enough for yourself, you will never be enough for someone else". Since the end of my last relationship, I have been working on being enough. Focusing mostly on myself, though it originally felt very selfish of me, I think it was exactly what I needed. I’ve realized that I am in charge of my own happiness. No matter how hard those around me try to make me happy, it is entirely up to me. So I’ve been making a lot of changes; new school, new major, new job, new friends, new hair, new style…I’m trying tons of new things, some of which I said I’d never do (I joined a sorority, WHO AM I?). I’m also letting go of a lot of things; things I’ve realized aren’t exactly for me (I quit the sorority after two weeks), things that no longer benefit me, and that’s okay!
I am 21 years old and as much as I’d like to, I do not need to have my life figured out right now. It’s okay to not know what I want to do when I grow up. It’s okay that I am graduating later than I'm supposed to. It’s okay to not have a boyfriend. It’s okay to not be friends with toxic people. It is okay to do things that make YOU happy.
As for the perfectionism, I’m still working on that one. But I have realized a few things. I am content with my height. At 4’11”, as my mother always says, I can wear heels on a date with any guy and not worry about being taller than him. I am content with my ghostly pale skin and my dark hair. Red lipstick looks BOMB on me if I do say so myself. I am content with my thick eyebrows, especially now that the newest craze is drawing them on and filling them in. I am content with my rolls and curves. If I wanted to look that Instagram model, I’d have to change my diet and commit to working out, something I’m not interested in doing right now, (I love pasta & naps too much & honestly it just sounds like a lot of work...) and that’s okay. I know how to get there if I change my mind. What if I played a sport or an instrument? Three-year-old me had her heart set on being a ballerina and involvement in other activities was never a thought in my head. Although I probably could have pushed myself to work harder as a dancer, I still believe it was the best 14 years of my life and I did the best I could at the time.
So now I know. I am enough. I cannot be the best at everything. I cannot be friends with everyone. I can only do so much to help others and that is okay. That is enough. I am enough. Maybe the key to happiness isn't about finding "The One" maybe it's about finding yourself. Over the past few months, I've learned that self-love is an everyday job, and some days are easier than others. But it’s really difficult to get through life without it, no matter how many people tell you they love you.
It took me 21 years to figure that out, and I know I’m not done yet. I also know there will mostly likely be another handful of boys I’m convinced are “The One”, but when the boy who is REALLY “The One” comes around, I will be enough for him, and I will definitely be enough for myself.
