Time to rip off the bandaid and call out the bird ass behavior of my misguided youth *cringes in embarrassment*
I was a pretty level headed girl, all things considered, but some of my thoughts, attitudes, and habits regarding relationships were just downright…musty.
I placed value on the wrong things, was worried about the wrong people, and wasted too much damn time. Something I’m overjoyed to have crossed off of my laundry list of issues: excessive accessibility.
There was NEVER a shortage of self-esteem or attention for me. (nerd shit and awkwardness aside) There was a plethora of people telling me how special I was, and that
probably definitely went to my head. Where I’m going with this? Don’t worry, I’ll explain:
As far as my younger self was concerned, I was God’s gift to guys; when I’d break up or fall out with a guy and they’d try again, I was like OF COURSE YOU CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME I’M FUCKING DOPE!
If you pulled my ‘lovefax’, you’d find mostly repeat offenders—I was giving out second chances like hotcakes (sometimes even third or fourth…ew). They lay all of the “I miss you” “Been thinking about you” “I can see myself with you” theatrics on you, don’t they?! It’s laughable when I look back.
And obviously I fell for it because, who WOULDN’T want to be with me? Not to mention, I also had this strange fixation on being ‘solid’ and ‘the one who never folded on him’ (and whatever else we say to excuse our stupidity). Boy, I had the game ALL fucked up…
I convinced myself I wasn’t being stupid for entertaining him again as long as I reminded him how he “got me fucked up” before, insisting that things will need to be different this time around.
I wish I knew that the more chances I gave, the less seriously he’d take me. I wish somebody told me sooner that no tears, touch, or long ass paragraph text in the world can make a guy change his ways (if he doesn’t already want to).
The way I see it: If a man gets locked out of a house, he’s gonna try EVERY way to get back in. Front door, back door, kitchen window, the chimney—it doesn’t matter how he gets access, he just wants in. But if he’s been locked out before, and knows that there’s a key under the mat, being “locked out” doesn’t seem like much of a threat anymore.
Why was I SO accessible? Lord (and a therapist) only knows.
Maybe it soothed the sting of being romantically rejected. Maybe I loved the attention. Maybe I liked feeling wanted. Maybe I had deep rooted daddy issues. Maybe I just had a thing for second chances…perhaps it’s all of this. I was never a fan of writing people off after one time, but I’ll admit that this way of thinking might’ve done more harm than good.
Four words: Thank God for growth. I’m glad to have escaped this dreadful mindset, and I want all of my ladies (and gentlemen) to grow with me! We need to stop being accessible to people who don’t deserve it. If (s)he really loved you, then they wouldn’t leave in the first place.
There is no love in inconsistency; focus your energy on someone who gets it right the first time. In the words of Nene Leakes, “THE DOOR IS CLOSED!”
Written by: B. Sierra