The last few weeks have been very confusing and somewhat tiresome.  Coming to terms with the end of my relationship. Dealing with rejection and digging up my demons has not been as easy as I thought it would be. When I started my journey of emotional healing I had no idea just how deep the wound run. Because I learnt a long time ago to self soothe, I never really paid attention to my feeling as I felt like me coming unhinged will be a great inconvenience to the people around me.

So I kept putting Bandages all over my heart. I tucked away and swept everything under a carpet. I never got upset or spoke up about what I wanted because I was worried that they would leave me. In my mind, I always felt like I had to find the worst guy to fall for me to feel worthy. Why?  Because if the worst guy would change for me, it must mean that I am quite special. And so I kept on weaving these elaborate fantasies about these horrible men while ignoring all the red flags that kept popping up all over the place.  What is worse is I was quite good at dishing out the best advice about how to love one’s self but never really took it myself.

With this intentional healing process I am taking on, I am realising that I have not healed from all my past relationships, and still walking around with festering wounds.  Every relationship since the first has always been about trying to fix what went wrong in the past relationship. Thereby guaranteeing carrying baggage from one relationship to the next every single time.  It’s been ongoing for most of my adult life. Walking around all put together while hurting very deeply on the inside. Break-up after break up, I would feel less and less optimistic and confident about the person I was. It is very obvious that I was a great catch, but why were these less than deserving men breaking up with me?

The more I delve into the mystery of my dating life and experiences I am beginning to realise that I set very low standards about my expectation whilst putting myself out on a limb in the hope that if I do, and be kind that they would somehow feel indebted into reciprocating my behaviour.  But I was wrong, I would get these broken men, build up their esteem and ego at the expense of my own. As soon as they felt they were all that they would walk off. But then when they run out of juice they would come back into my life all in the name of being sorry and trying to be civil with me.

All this while I thought it was because they regretted it. What I didn’t realise is I created monsters who didn’t know how to sustain their energy levels and so every so often would show back up into my life to come and suck me dry of all my energy to fuel their insatiable appetite for what I had given them.  Approval and affirmation. This has kept happening over and over.

I have decided to go back to the beginning to try and understand the source of my need to fix men. It takes me back to my first relationship.  When my parents found out I was dating, they shamed me for feeling the need to date or having an attraction to the opposite sex. According to them, I was too young and therefore such thoughts were inappropriate. I find it very unfair looking back that they judged my relationship and intention off of their weird mindsets.  In their minds my having a boyfriend meant I was sexually motivated. Which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Growing up, I noticed that my parents had very little regard for my opinion and even less interest in getting to learn about who exactly I was and my thoughts.  What made it worse is my parents were the type who would use your pain to manipulate you into submitting into acting in a certain way or to them. I may have been young, but I had a strong head on my shoulders.  Had my parents taken time to get to know me, they would have realised that I was capable of taking care of myself. Being a precocious child, my body developed much faster than most. and so from a young age, I started being propositioned by men old enough to be my father.  Which is disgusting if I may add.

I found out pretty early in life how frustrating it is to try and get someone to notice your intellect when their focus is on your body.  That offended me so much so that I felt like I needed to fix these disgusting men. And there lay my problem. I would give men who found me physically appealing a chance all in the hope that I would win them over with my genuineness and kindness into seeing me as much more than a sexual object.  That they would see me as a person worth taking seriously and not some sexual object.

This is something I have struggled with since I hit puberty. Men and boys always tried and still try their luck. Always chasing with no real motive or intention.  To make matters worse my parents affirmed these sick attitudes by constantly accusing me of sleeping with any guy I made friends with. Without realising it they had sexually objectified me. So I started to believe that every guy I met would only want one thing from me. If they didn’t I would automatically think they are not into me.

Looking back, I find it very hard to forgive myself for allowing these types of men in my life. And therein lies my biggest problem. I am so much better than these men, when I look back I feel so upset. All my exes are empty and shallow. No drive or motivation, no substance, hollow human beings. It’s a wonder I ended up this way…