I’m fairly transparent about one thing:
It took me a very long time to like myself. Looking back on it, I can’t really identify exactly where the loathing came from, but there was a very extended period of my life in which I was simply getting by in an odd funk of depression and self-contempt.
Yes, it is as horrible as it sounds, and if you are going through similar issues, I understand. Really, I do.
It took me a LONG TIME to become comfortable in my own skin.
If it wasn’t apparent in my personality, it was blatantly clear in other areas. Especially in the relationships that I had. I dated a lot of broken women. I would play the Knight in Shining Armor role…except I wasn’t. It was nothing more than a ruse; a cover for the fact that I was seeking women that mirrored the insecurities that I felt within myself. As a result, most of the relationships (and even a marriage) that I had were devoid of any real intimacy. Two broken people can’t come together to fill the holes in each other, even though this seems like a nice and romantic concept.
In this situation, those two people do nothing more than leech off of each other. Feed off of the pain. Add to the misery.
They become barnacles.
As crazy as it sounds, I didn’t feel as though I was ready to be in a genuine relationship until I reached a point where I didn’t necessarily want one. The difference was that I didn’t feel a NEED to be with anyone because I finally felt complete in myself.
A barnacle no more.
Only took me 30 years.
But I was worth it, and she will think so, too…when I find her.