It’s hard work trying to fall in love with yourself when all your life you’ve had people continually tell you and make you feel as if you just weren’t good enough.
I was never good enough for The Hubby. He wanted a wife who was thinner, didn’t have as many stretch marks as I did, wasn’t as flabby as I was, had a perkier butt, a smaller waist, no scars from years of self-harm and abuse. I knew all of this because he told me. He told me almost every day.
He cheated on me repeatedly because he wanted to fuck a woman who had a smaller waist than he did. That’s what he said. I know that because that sentence resonates in the back of my mind to this very day. That man made me feel like shit each and every day I was with him. All I ever gave him was love. Maybe a bit of nagging and a hard time every now and again but mostly, I gave him love. All he gave me was abuse. Literally. What’s a nasty remark here or a punch in the face there?
i was never quite good enough for Jock either. I couldn’t let things go. I was too stubborn. Quite a few men would say that about me though. I always thought I loved my stubborn side but now I’m wondering if it’s more a flaw than something I should be proud of.
But Jock had a few things to say about me. I gave him too much of a hard time. I couldn’t just forget. I couldn’t let him handle things in his own time. I was too impatient. I was always late. Again, all I ever thought I gave him was love. He didn’t abuse me but it still didn’t work out. A year and a half later and I’m still just as in love with that guy as I was when we were in the happiest stages of our relationship. Some loves just don’t go away so easy. Especially when it feels like unfinished business.
But with all the men in my history and let’s face it, there’s been a few, there’s been something. I wasn’t quite right. I didn’t quite fit. Friends were the same. I’ve never had a great social circle. I’m always surrounded by people and now, I’m adored by those I know but it hasn’t always been that way. I was bullied all the way through school, junior school, high school, the whole way. I was pretty and smart. I could never work out why people didn’t want to be my friend but I guess I was too weird for most. I never really fitted in. I was always the weird girl. I don’t fit in with girls. I don’t fit in with guys. I don’t fit in with my family. I don’t even talk to half of them. They can’t be bothered with me.
But after years and years and years of not fitting in, not being right, not quite getting it right, how are you meant to fall in love with yourself?
Every man I’ve been with has shaped me in one way or another. My first boyfriend never took my underwear off when we had sex, instead choosing to slip them to one side before penetrating me. Because of that, I feel weird about men going down on me. I can’t do it with the light on or if it’s daylight because they’ll see everything. That’s something that’s stuck with me for my entire adult life. I don’t think I have an ugly vagina. Men tell me it’s pretty and that it tastes / smells / looks great / sweet / heavenly. Hey, those weren’t my words! I just get nervous when people look at it, when a man looks at it. I get nervous when a man sees me full stop.
I don’t feel pretty when I’m naked. I don’t feel pretty when I don’t have makeup on. I don’t feel pretty 99% of the time. I thought I had become more accustomed to myself over the years but that’s not the case at all. I don’t try to overcome my fears, I just run away from them. I can’t remember the last time I had sober sex with anyone. I also can’t remember the last few times I had sex either. Something’s gotta change here. I can’t keep going on like this. When did I start hating myself so much that I needed to be drunk beyond the point of making smart decisions in order to enjoy sex with a man? Before I was drunk, I was stoned. Very rarely did Jock and I have sex where I wasn’t high. Someone New and I rarely had sober sex too. We did have sober sex but more often than not we’d be drinking with dinner and we all know I’m a one-glass-wonder. Two glasses of wine and I’m smashed. Three glasses of wine and the whole night escapes my memory. When did I turn into that girl?
There’s no way I can have a normal, fully-functioning love life, or sex life for that matter, when I’m too scared to let a man see my body. When I’m too scared to look at my own body. When I’m too scared to look at me. Something’s gotta change.
But that’s my first task. I’m researching as we speak. How to fall in love with yourself. How to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and not cringe, not pick out the flaws, not spot everything you hate. Not to see the stretch marks some asshole from ten years ago once pointed out, or the scars caused by years of abuse from other people but also from myself too. Not for anyone else’s benefit. I’m not even dating. I don’t want to date. I’ve had enough of dating. I want to date myself for a while. At least I can’t fuck off and leave me. But man, am I hard work.
Wish me luck. Oh and any advice would be greatly appreciated. You have no idea what crap comes up in Google when you type in “how to fall in love with yourself”.