why don't the men i date ever truly love me?

i really don't have anything poignant to say but i do think its important that all women read this submission (and answer) the the 'Ask Polly' advice column from NYMag's The Cut. as a woman who has made her share of poor ass decisions when it comes to dating, i know i needed to read this. to absorb this. to become one with this. i'm not sure where i picked up the habit of shrinking myself to fit into the context of what others need of me but.... that has done nothing to benefit me over the years. it hasn't brought me love or happiness or peace and yet, for some reason, i catch myself falling into that disgusting pattern more often than not. *sigh* but... this isn't about me. today's blog post is about us. because i know i'm not the only one who looks back at the past with a general air of "what in the entire fuck, man?". 

we have to learn to constantly remind ourselves that everything we are is enough. our feelings... our passions... out laughter... our anxieties... our anger... all of it. and, most of all, remember that if we are to truly love one that we have to be brave enough to show up and let them see who we truly are.

here is a piece of deliciousness presented in the post:

"Your real problem is that you're sure you have a problem. Because you're pretty sure that you have a problem, you're hiding. You're putting up with whatever. You're never getting ruffled or hurt. When someone breaks up with you, you're not yelling "Whyyyyy?!!!" In fact, you imply that only a weak or less evolved person would do that. You imply that you aren't a weak person, you're not crazy, you're not fucked up, you're evolved, you're healthy, you have proof: Your therapist will vouch for you. You have "remarkable communication and emotional coping skills."

You're so good at being GOOD. But how good are you at being YOU? You know what makes a spark? A real human being with a bad attitude who's tired of moving shit just to sit down in a motherfucker's apartment. A woman who, after 18 months of doing everything together, doesn't sigh and say, "Okay. I'm hurt, but I totally get it." She says, "HOLY FUCK I THOUGHT YOU WERE ABOUT TO POP THE FUCKING QUESTION. THIS IS SUCH A FUCKING CURVEBALL." [Knocks a pile of books off a chair to sit down.] "I just wish I hadn't worn these fucking tall shoes, they're killing me, and I thought I should wear them in case we needed to go out somewhere nice to celebrate!" [Takes off shoes and throws them at the wall.] "GodDAMN IT! FUCK THIS!!!!" [Grabs a sketch from some pile of shitty sketches and rips it into a million pieces. Throws body onto filthy carpet and sobs, noting bits of filth in carpet while sobbing.]

Okay, so that was a dramatization of some messy behavior. I'm not trying to tell you to be more of a psycho and someone will love you completely. But you DO need to be SOMETHING. Are you afraid of being something?"


Read "Ask Polly: Why Don't the Men I Date Truly Love Me?"

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