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"Why am I like this??"



There was a moment in a past relationship where I paused for a second in the mirror and said under my breath: “Why are you doing this?”


I was so tired, but I was hurriedly cute-ifying myself at midnight to rush out of the house and meet up with my boyfriend and his coworkers at a last-minute’s notice.


I was annoyed that I wasn’t allowed to relax.

That I was forced to socialize and be fake-cheerful.

That I had to pay money for a ride to a random bar across town that might also have a $20 cover.


Until that moment, I'd assumed I had no other choice.


I thought that he was somehow forcing me to do these things….


...When his text simply said: “Going to check out Bliss w/Ben and Cassie, if you wanna come meet us.”


Everything was a hassle. The driver was brusque and smelly. I had to stand in line outside, surrounded by loud already-drunk girls who kept elbowing me as if I wasn’t there. I was mad that he’d decided to come here after work.


But deep inside, I was most upset with myself.


“Why am I like this?” I thought miserably, hating how packed the place was.


He wasn’t giving me enough attention — I thought — for the amount of annoyance and suffering I was going through.


Yes, he was happy to see me, hugged and kissed me… but now he’s back laughing with his coworkers, and I’m just sitting here with a beer, awkwardly too sober, pretending not to be upset as the flashing blue lighting and heavy bass accentuated the empty defeat I felt within my chest.


“I could be in bed right now,” I sighed.


Why.


Why did I feel like I had to do this?


Why did my mind and body immediately fly into action when I got that text?


Why do I believe that if he is out having fun, that I had to do the exact same thing — at my own expense?


“Well, I don’t want to miss out on the fun,” I thought…completely aware that none of this felt fun.


So what’s wrong with missing out on the “fun”?


“Well, then I’m being The Boring Girlfriend who is missing-in-action. Who is just at home sleeping.


So what’s wrong with missing-in-action and sleeping?


“He might find somebody more fun. I’d be replaced.”


So, you’re not actually going out to have fun… you’re going out to make sure you don’t get replaced.


“Yes. I guess. I mean, I do want to be with him…”


Well here you are with him! Why aren’t you happy?


“OK. I actually just wish I could do what I knew was good for me! And stop running out after him like I have no mind of my own.”


So why don’t you start doing what’s good for you, and have a mind of your own?


The back of my eyes felt tingly. “Because… if I’m not being the Fun Girlfriend… why would he want to be with me?”


I suddenly felt excessively sad and exhausted, but my boyfriend was coming over towards me.


“Hey!” His arm was around my shoulders.


I perked up in hope, waiting for him to say something to make this all worthwhile.


“Don’t feel like having fun?” he joked playfully.


Against my will, I found myself snapping: “I’m tired!".


He looked confused. “Well… you didn’t have to come out,” he said quizzically.


In that moment I thought I hated him.


But I hated me more.


Why am I like this??


“I came out here for YOU!” I wanted to scream at him. “I’m here, suffering, doing all this, because I LOVE YOU!”


In actuality, I just excused myself to the bathroom, pretending that I wasn’t fighting back infuriated tears.


I should be in bed right now.


Why am I like this.


Cue the downward spiral.


Peeing in the chaotic bathroom stall, I dabbed at my wet lashes with wads of terribly thin toilet paper, having an existential reckoning.


“HOW can I love myself…feel good about myself on my own… if I’m such a hot mess?” Came my embittered thoughts.


“...If I’m not good enough? If I’m not able to be ‘fun’ enough? If I’m not able to control my stupid mouth around him?”


HOW do I actually DO it??


 


If I could go back in time to face that sad girl on the toilet, I’d tell her:


The reason why you’re feeling and acting this way is because you’re trying to be him more than yourself.


This frantic hot mess isn’t who you truly are. It's not who you really are meant to be.


You’re only like this because you’ve come to believe that HE is your identity — that you can only feel good about yourself through him.


And that’s a lie. There's SO much more to you than this.


Think about how much inner peace, confidence, and emotional stability you’d have if you began having an identity of your own?


If you saw how much happier, healthier, attractive, and productive you’d become when you’re being the version of yourself that you actually want to be?


Now pick yourself up. You’re not weak for crying. You're not wrong for feeling this way.


You’ve just been trying your best.


But you’ve been trying your best for him.


From here on out, lets try your best for yourself.


And I promise you — you will love yourself enough to happily get into bed, even if he texts last-minute after work.


You will love yourself enough to know that you’ll be okay no matter what happens.


You’ll love yourself enough to start treasuring the simple joys in your own existence, finding excitement in your own personality, pursuits, sense-of-self.


You’ll love yourself enough to enjoy being yourself… and he will be the topping on that already delicious cake.


You've got this. We’ve got this.


Now go wash your hands. Go back out there, give him a hug and a self-respecting sincere apology, and make the most of the rest of tonight.


Because tomorrow, tomorrow and onward… is going to be all about you.


 


These words were for myself, but I lovingly gifting them to you.


If you feel like a hot mess, I know that you got here with the best of intentions.


You were only trying your best. (For someone else).


Imagine what it’d be like if you were to try your best, for you...tomorrow and onward.


If you’re ready to do this in a better way, click here to get started. I’ve got you.

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