What are you scared of? I mean really, really scared of.
There’s probably a lot of different things.
I’m scared of spiders, dark alley ways, and the movie Jumanji. I’m scared of being a disappointment and I’m scared of failure. I’m scared of ever being in the same room as a Komodo Dragon, and I’m scared of never being able to see the Eiffel Tower. I’m scared of a lot of things.
But most of all, I’m scared of being unlovable.
There, I said it.
I’m freaking terrified that I am unlovable.
We all have insecurities. They creep in when we least expect them and it seems as if they never leave. I don’t know why insecurities happen or how to get rid of them. I’ve been trying.
With my recent efforts to love myself and appreciate myself more, these insecurities dwindle slowly each day. But one thing remains…this fear.
Since living in Los Angeles, I have decided that I would like to start dating again. I say again because there was a time when the mere idea of dating paralyzed me with fear. I legitimately could not even receive a compliment from a man without wanting to cry. “You wouldn’t like me if you knew I was broken,” I would think to myself.
In case you haven’t previously read about them, I have medical conditions that make dating more difficult than it should be. And Jesus, isn’t dating bad enough as it is?
About a month after deciding this, I realized that I don’t even know how to date anymore. How do you meet someone? Do you just go up to people? Smile at them? Buy them a drink? Then what? Do you get their number?
Like many single twentysomethings, I decided to try out Tinder. (I know, I know. I don’t even….whatever.)
It’s been about a month since I’ve (seriously) been on Tinder, and each day, I become a little bit more depressed.
As I swipe left and right and look at pictures and read quotes and try my shitty small talk tactics, I begin to slowly realize that I am seriously messed up when it comes to dating.
I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like, I have this idea in my head that I want to date, and then the actual act of dating makes me want to throw up.
When I think about going out on a date with someone and trying to pretend that I’m not thinking about my medical condition the entire time, I genuinely feel ill.
I think it’s safe to assume that dating is hell for just about anyone, but it doesn’t help when you have a “broken” vagina. (sorry mom)
The more conversations I ended on Tinder, and the more and more people I unmatched with just BECAUSE, the more I began to realize that the reason I remain single is because I make it impossible on myself to find anyone. I set incredibly high expectations and refuse to ever let anyone meet them…because I’m freaking terrified of feeling something.
I’m terrified of having to tell someone that I’m broken. I’m terrified of dealing with the complications. And I’m terrified of someone realizing that I come with a lot of baggage, and they have no interest in helping me unpack.
It’s hard to admit this, but it’s true. I’m fucking scared. And for the past few months, instead of facing this fear, I have cowered away. I’ve been so reluctant to accept these illnesses as a part of my life, that I’ve missed my opportunity to defeat them. In trying so hard to not let them define me, I have done just that…I have let them define me. They have taken over control, and I have done nothing about it.
I’ve been canceling physical therapy, avoiding mental therapy, and avoiding men for months now because I was TOO SCARED TO FACE IT.
I have been scared of this for too damn long.
It’s so easy for me to look at someone else that has baggage and know instantly that they are lovable. But I can never do the same for myself.
I may not be defined by these illnesses, but no matter what I do…I still have them. I might always have them. And I can’t remain scared any longer.
This is my one life, it’s my one shot and grasping everything I want. And I am the only one that can help myself.
I am tired of fear ruling my life. I am tired of sitting alone at night wondering if anyone will ever love me.
These illnesses are a part of me, and anyone that can’t accept that isn’t worth a damn in my book.
We are all deserving of love, no matter what. Did you read that? No. Matter. What.
We can let our fears define us, or we can leave them behind us.
I choose to leave it behind.
I hope you do too.