Changes. They are the scary.
I’m changing, (okay, trying to change) how I view relationships. “My normal approach\”Is useless here\” seems to be a recurrent thought. I normally leap blindly into things. I have gotten mixed results, though usually short-lived successes.
I don’t want a short-lived “success” now. I’m 23. I’m not getting any younger, yet I have a while before I’m considered “old” ( Though one of my Scouts this weekend looked at me with wide-eyed wonder when she found out I was in my 20s, and agreed to my joke of me being “very, very old”. Granted, she’s 11.)
I feel I have grown up enough to… I don’t know how to articulate this. I have grown up, lived a little, learned a lot and am working on making myself a better person. I would like to explore a mature, adult, grown-up relationship. It won’t be easy, but if something isn’t worth fighting for, why bother having it?
Now, this isn’t to say that I don’t feel whole or complete without the label of “girlfriend”. I am totally cool being single. I’m educated, independent, and capable of changing my own tire. But if an opportunity happens to show up, I think it would be prudent of me to take advantage, and see where it leads.
I think I’m nearly ready for something a little more… more. If only life worked like that.
Shift to self-reflection:
I still have rampant insecurities about myself and especially about my body, but I have noticed myself thinking more often in the past few weeks that I am actually kinda pretty, sometimes. These are usually when I catch myself off-guard in the mirror, like when I’m brushing my teeth, glance up and see me, reflected back, all sleep-rumpled but with somehow shining blue eyes.
This is and will be a slow process. Not having any positive-reinforcement about my looks/body growing up tends to do that. My friends would use blanket statements when describing how beautiful we all were, and my individual comments/compliments focused on either my personality or eyes…
I was about 12, and just starting to figure out what pretty was, and I asked my mum if she thought I was pretty. She didn’t even look up from making dinner as she replied “Every mother is prejudiced to their own child.” Not even an ” of course you are” half-truth.
That same year, my after-school caregiver, who was also my best friend’s (at the the time) mum told me I looked six months pregnant.
Those words still hurt.
Explains a lot, doesn’t it?
I think I decided that if I couldn’t be pretty, I would be nice. I don’t know how well it’s worked, but I just try to be the best friend I can be to my friends. I’m told I’m a good friend, and I appreciate the acknowledgement. I can work on a couple things, but I’m not expecting perfection from myself.
I don’t do it for the glory; I do it because it’s how I want people to treat me.
Change takes a long time. I’m Making Changes. I’m getting there. Be paitent, I’m sure the rewards to be reaped will be worthwhile.