They say there are two mental tracks that women can take when a love interest disappears.
Some women will blame themselves. They’ll think, “What did I do wrong?”
That used to be me. I thought that if a man rejected me that it was a reflection of me. That I was broken or missing something, that I was not good enough: not pretty enough, young enough, skinny enough, educated enough, demure enough, nurturing enough, _____ enough. I would pore over all the things that I had said and done, running the scenes over and over again in my head. I would agonize over what I expressed to him, the feelings and sides of myself I revealed, wondered if I had said or asked for too much and scared him away.
It’s taken most of my adult life, but now, I’m part of the group of women that thinks, “If he doesn’t want me, that’s a reflection of him.”
This is radical self-love. It is the understanding: if he doesn’t show interest, if his words don’t match his actions, if he doesn’t consistently show up for me, if he disappears…
That is not on me. That is on him.
Maybe his rejection of me is borne of insecurity, fear, or past traumas and emotional wounds. Maybe it’s stereotype- or judgment-based, borne of misinformation or miscommunication. Maybe it’s the place or the time, or stars that haven’t aligned. Or the simplest explanation: he’s just not that into me. And sometimes, it’s yet some other explanation that I will never, ever learn or understand.
I’ve largely stopped trying to understand why a love interest disappears — these days, I feel hurt and disappointed, but I pick myself up again. I’m being my authentic self, open and optimistic to love, while staying true to my standards and what I deserve. I love and value myself. That’s worthy of love by another, is it not?
While I’m not without my own painful relationship history: emotional abuse, infidelity, ambivalence, abandonment… my healing is well underway, and the thought of rejection really doesn’t scare me anymore (even if it still hurts). I will be myself, and I will say the things I feel, even if I end up hurt.
Four and a half years ago, I met someone who I had thought changed the game for me. We met traveling, were inseparable for a week, and then when we left each other, we soon moved forwards with plans to be together — which involved an across-the-world move on my part. I told friends: “Mark my words, I’m going to marry this man.” Famous last words, perhaps. When he broke it off with a cool, “I need to concentrate on my business,” I was devastated. Never did I get an explanation from him that made sense.
And it took a long time for me to be ok with that. Sure, there are things I could’ve said, vulnerabilities and desires I may have revealed, that scared him. It could’ve been moving too fast or too serious too soon or maybe he got carried away in the honeymoon phase. Maybe there was another woman. Long ago, I stopped theorizing what may have happened. I put my heart back together and I stopped caring to expend any emotional energy when I get ghosted, stood up, or rejected.
It’s as simple as, “That’s not on me. That’s on him,” — a shrug, a shake of the head, and I dust myself off again: a high-value woman.
This self-love, this healing, and this personal reflection has been a long time coming. And the process is still ongoing, to be honest.
On my worst days, especially after date after disappointing date… I think, “Will I ever find anyone to love again?” or even, “Will I ever even like anyone else?” (Which, I think, is a healthier place to be emotionally than the “Will anyone ever love me?” in my 20s— but still, a little doomsday) and I remind myself, YES.
It’s a rare and special thing for me to meet someone who 1) treats me well, consistently and over time, 2) who I admire and respect for his values and aspirations, and 3) with whom I have wild sexual attraction. Dammit, it is so, so, rare… especially amid years of dates of which I’ve been apathetic. (Of course, this makes it so, so, special and refreshing when it happens, right? And it will, because it does.)
I will find someone else to love. And it will likely be when I least expect it, in the wildest place, or under the most surprising circumstances. It only takes one… but there is not only one. And he will be the right one for me, at the right time.
Stay hopeful, single people. Love and value yourself — your truest self — and try not to be discouraged when others don’t see your worth. Someone will. I’ll repeat: It only takes one… but there is not only one. 😘
“It only takes one… but there is not only one.” #findinglove #datingblog
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