The Grossness of Interest Entitlement

I’m not even really sure how I’m going to write this but I’m going to start and see where it goes.

I used to tolerate politely how guys flirted with me or showed interest in me because I took what I could and tried to work with it. Even if how they acted didn’t exactly make me feel good. Even if they weren’t even at least attentive to me in bed. I guess you could more than say that my self-esteem wasn’t great. I would do this even when I knew they didn’t like me all that much. I would start acting up and they would give me headaches. I was sadly comforted by the dysfunctions because it was a reflection upon myself.

This happened often as well when I wasn’t comfortable with my looks. If I felt like they were just interested in me for my looks and to bang me, I would feel like shit. Then when I was alone, I would eat to protect myself from that. It was weird. I never put those pieces together until recently.

My own interest was never important to me. I would try to make their interest work. I would fill in their blanks for them. I would make excuses and accept when they made them. I would rationalize for them by telling criticizing my own self and believe them when they said that I was getting too worked up because sometimes I did, but looking back, it was when their passive interest was driving my insecurities and I forced my own attachment too much to say fuck it.

Now that I understand how to put myself before someone else’s interest until I can gauge it myself… Some of the encounters I’ve had have been gross, to say the least. If I’m unsure about my interest in someone but they showed theirs with me first, I wait to gauge by how they go about it. If it’s passive, or wishy-washy, it doesn’t do it for me and I’m pretty upfront about it. I’m baffled by the reaction to it. The response I can get is like they expected me to accept this low level of show and think it was okay. They would insult me, backhand talk at me, or say some racist shit.

Sometimes there were guys who couldn’t understand why I wasn’t interested in having sex with them just because that’s what they wanted. I had one guy in my past who fiddled with me to fuck me and I totally fell for it. We sort of bumped into each other and when I mentioned that I wasn’t a fan of him for that situation, he told me that for what it was worth, he was attracted to me. There was not one apology or acknowledgment of his douchebaggery. The next words to come out of him was asking if I still lived in my old hood, with a tone that spoke of a potential hook up and that’s when I shut it down. I told him this conversation was over and I never want us to acknowledge each other’s presence ever again. I felt gross even having a conversation with him but I thought hey, it’d be a few years, people grow. Instead, I wanted to throw up in my mouth. Even after those few years, he still thought he was entitled to fuck me and thought I’d go along with it.

Gaslighting is something I’m only starting to really get an understanding of. Guys did this to me a lot and I always thought it was me. I thought I was crazy until I realize they spoke to me like I was so I thought I was, even though what I was doing was just being straight-forward and you know, mature. I’d call out misinformation they told. I’d call out when they told me something that didn’t match what they said of it before. Or question why they were lying about something. They were quick on the defensive and quick to talk to me that was to say, mind your own fucking business. Uhm, no. If you are trying to get with me, you best have yourself in check and real. I maintain my standard of honesty and integrity with myself and the best that I can with others. I’m not about to put that aside for someone who doesn’t.

It’s gross to me how someone can go so aggressively at me about my looks. It used to scare me that I attracted guys like this so I would subconsciously try to protect myself from it. Now that I can own my looks and not have their say in it, I can deflect it. Look, I don’t mind a compliment. I’ve learned to graciously accept them. I also know I’m not ugly and these days, I am confident in how I look because I like how I look to myself. But when it’s all you’re focusing on and you’re coming at me about in a manner that is the equivalent to a teenage boy finding porn and attempting to masturbate to it for the first time, it’s not chill. I’m not an object that you can persistently come at. See, that’s where I get annoyed. Most people, if you ignore their this kind of behavior, will stop. They don’t continue. But some do. If I’m lucky, they’ll resort to calling me names and telling me I’m a stupid bitch anyways and then stop.

The rate that I’m seeing this now and rejecting is crazy to me. Who do these guys think they are?

Sept 17th, two years ago, last year & this year

On this day two years ago, I was in Winnipeg on a whirlwind trip that was less than 48 hours. I didn’t want to go. I ended up going because my ex at the time didn’t want to be away from me too long and was willing to fly me out. I voiced my hesitation but in the end, I went with his wishes because I wanted us to work and it would make him happy.

I had a miserable time there. I found out the life he told me and that I saw in Vancouver, was a different tale he told back at his home. His family life wasn’t as close as he made it out to be and he ignored me most of the time instead of introducing me to his friends as I thought he would. They asked me questions I didn’t know how to answer because it was different from what I was living with him back home. They didn’t even know of the person we were fighting about back home. I hated it there yet I tried so hard to convince myself that I could make this work. That I could make Winnipeg work. We had plans to get married. I was really stupid.

When that relationship ended, it was the crisis I needed to realize that shit needed to change, I needed to change. I made a promise to myself that I would work on myself. I didn’t keep that promise very well in the beginning. It was really tough but I kept trying.

This time last year, I started a new job that I couldn’t believe I even got. I had plans to quit my previous job just five days before but instead of two weeks notice, I was so fucking fed up, I made it effective immediately. I remember waking up the next day after I pulled that shit and going, what the fuck do I do now? I had nothing lined up and the reality of that hit me hard. But it was the beginning of me understanding faith. I told myself that if this was meant to be the right choice than something better was going to come along if I put in the work. So I hustled the fuck out of job hunting and then I got a better job.

This led me to take another step into the unknown a month later by saying fuck this to living any longer with my roommate at the time. It was something I should’ve done months ago but she convinced me rent was too high in Vancouver to live on my own and I didn’t believe myself an adult enough so I believed her instead. I snapped on that misery too and gave notice without even finding a place first. I put it in faith’s hands that there was better and I would find it. I found the place I’m currently at and at the time, even now, it’s right for me (even though the laundry is garbage). I got pretty lucky with the rent as well, to be honest, so there you have that.

Flash forward to today. My lease is up next month but I’m going to continue living here because, on my own, it’s good enough for me. It took a few months to build a home out of it but it’s been the first home I’ve ever felt since being on my own. It’s been a place I can have people over and feel comfortable about it. It’s got a welcoming and cozy vibe to it that I dig, that I set up. I actually don’t tend to have people over but the option is there when my place isn’t a complete mess.

I started a job a month ago that is what I’ve been looking for with a company that wanted me a year ago but I declined because they couldn’t offer what I wanted. It’ll be a job that I will either be valued at or will give me experience for a much better one a year from now. I finally feel a sense of responsibility and autonomy in a position for the first time in my life. It’s been a rocky road with jobs this year and employment but it’s recently beginning to find a steadier footing.

Two years ago, I was an emotional mess in a relationship with a guy I didn’t even really like. I started therapy because of him and I’m so grateful I did because my therapist opened my eyes to who he was and that I wasn’t crazy for my thoughts of him. It was hard coming to terms with how stupid I was and it wasn’t easy to genuinely forgive myself and believe that I wasn’t going to be the same stupid person. It didn’t help that for that year after I was still distracting myself with dating because I didn’t know how to use my time properly but it was the first time that I was attempting to try for myself.

A year ago, I was still a mess but this time a mess in my own space, on my own. I shed my miseries and only had myself and my own doubts to face. I had lived on my own before but I wasn’t ready at the time but this time I knew I was. I was more determined than ever to be my own person and attempted to bust my ass and was getting there, even though it was pretty poorly. I stopped distracting myself so much by filling my time with guys even though there was a couple I got attached to. Thankfully, I got over them and haven’t looked back since. I made the decision to put myself on anti-depressants to help keep the big emotions at bay while I tried to learn proper ones.

Today, I stand on my own two feet. Not alone, because I am blessed enough to have people who let me know I’m not alone, even when I feel the loneliest. I was in a relationship that I believed in too much but I’ve grown enough to not invest in it and move on for now, maybe forever. I’ve busted my ass off this year to get to where I am now. I worked through a death, a roofie incident and a somewhat emotionally abusive relationship. I made it through them and as I went through these things, I was still learning ways to take care of myself. I’m not as self-destructive as I used to be and I don’t think I ever will be that way to the level that I was again because I’ve learned to love myself.

Today, I see myself and have allowed others to see me. I don’t have that sense of isolation, hiding or invisibility anymore. I’m no longer on the anti-depressants because I’ve learned emotional regulation that I can handle on my own now. I still stumble but I don’t hide it anymore because I’ve learned to open up about it with people who remind me to be gentle instead of dismissive of me. I’m not as self-absorbed in my own issues now that I’ve learned to connect more with the world. I’ve come to accept the flaws of me and the parts of me that I thought would get rejected. I don’t distract myself with dating anymore because now that I’ve learned to make it something that I have a choice in, instead of something to fill my time and void, I’ve lost interest in trying. I’m happy doing my own thing and once I realized that loneliness was the driving force of it, and really recognize it without defensiveness, I was able to overcome it with the help of my friends.

Two years ago, I was in love with the wrong person and in the wrong place. Last year, I didn’t know what love was. This year, I found love in the right place and with the right people. It’s been a journey and I’m not there yet. I still fumble but I’m not as lost. I don’t downplay how far I’ve come because I acknowledge the amount of work I’ve put into where I am right now. I shed a lot of who I thought I was, who I used to be and old thought patterns and mindsets that were holding me back. I believe in the depths of me rather than thinking I’m deep down shallow because I’m not sophisticated.

Today, I look in the mirror and see who I am instead of confused at who’s looking back at me.

 

 

 

The Learning of Being Kind To Myself

TO YOURSELF

For three years, it has always been a personal goal of mine to squat 200lbs in this pink Betsey Johnson dress someone gave me years ago. I decided what better time to hit this vision than for my 30th birthday next month? I’d done the program before, it’ll be great! I can do it!

Confession: I did day one of it and decided to stop the program.

I had to be honest with myself and say I didn’t want to commit to it. I wanted flexibility in my life. I knew deep down that I’d be giving myself low-key anxiety with the rigidness of the program because I’d be putting expectations on myself. I would’ve drowned in the guilt if I didn’t keep to the program because I’d rather be doing something else. I settled on telling myself that, after my birthday, I’ll be 30 for 365 days and that’s 365 days to still pull this shit off. I’d honestly rather be putting my time into practicing driving and getting my licence by my 30th because if this happens, I can do anything and I’ll be crying. I’d rather be crying over that.

Also, the open mic thing will be on a Monday and I had to tell myself, I’d rather watch my friend do something he’d always wanted to do and join him on it. On the program, I’d have to choose between the two so I chose while I’m ahead. I want the flexibility to work on material and maybe meet up with him before the day so we can politely smile at each other’s attempts at jokes.

I mean, I’m still going to go to the gym. I’m just not going to just go when a program tells me to. As long as I go and keep at it, it’s what’s going to matter. Powerlifting is always going to be there for me as long as I put in the effort. It’s like the supportive boyfriend that believes in me and just wants me to do my best, whatever way that works for me. I’m the overthinking girlfriend who doesn’t want to disappoint him by not being as great as him because he’s sculpted like a God and makes me feel weird things when I see him deadlifting all those 45lbs plates. I just want to be good enough while he’s reassuring me, “Babe, you are good enough, do it how it works best for you. I’m not telling you what to do. Don’t put that on you or us.” And I’m crying because he’s being so understanding and perfect.

I feel guilty when I make decisions for myself that isn’t about “being healthy”. I made the decision to catch up with a couple of my closest friends this week and eat and drink an amount that I’m paying for in carb face and belly. I can’t look in the mirror right now because it’s pretty bad and I don’t want to see the evidence on my face. I went to the gym twice this week because I currently have a tweaked neck from work and acupuncture did not help it as I thought it would. I’ve been getting migraines. This wasn’t a good physical week for me.

Come Sunday, I’m telling myself it’s okay. To not take all this anxiety and guilt seriously. To be honest with myself with the fact that I am not a rigid person. I like structure but I need flexibility within that structure. Also, I am not very disciplined and trying to really force that shit on myself will make me go into a self-sabotaging mode and if I go deep enough, it can get ugly. Also things like, I was mindful of my neck and didn’t want to make it worse because of my guilty ego. I’ve been kind to myself about it. I’ve been talking myself through the anxiety and guilt. Mind you, I still feel them but I don’t feel them seriously.

That’s the reminder I have to tell myself. To not take my overthinking anxiety seriously. To remind myself who I am now and that person won’t just say fuck it, and bask in the piece of shit mode. To remind myself that I’m totally a responsible adult and believe it. Tomorrow is the start of a new week and there are no expectations that I’ve put on myself for it. My neck will get back to normal eventually.

Being kind to myself is tough but it’s something I have to learn without spoiling myself when I try. I didn’t understand this difference for a long time.

Re-Aligning Myself

Confession: Lately I’ve been feeling intensely lonely.

What started as a minor feeling devolved into the root of why I feel that way. Instead of pushing it down, I kept asking questions. I didn’t like the answer and before I knew it, I was realizing how much of the truth of my loneliness I buried deep, deep down inside of me. Instead of feeling shame about it, I started a conversation with a few close friends. I’m still feeling it and I’m allowing it, but I’m also very mindful of how false it is.

I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself because I am seeing so many directions I want to go. I feel the passion of it all the same to them but I can’t make up my mind. I need a second to take a step back, breathe and align myself back up. Even if it means taking a night off from a task. It’s not life or death. I’m allowed to make it up. I’m fighting the guilt about choosing this.

I’m so open to opportunities that it somewhat holds me back. My head keeps turning in all sorts of directions and my attention span is overturned by the excitement of everything. When I start being flighty, I start feeling doubt from what is basically the confusion of making a choice. I want to do everything then collapse from the expectations I put on myself. It’s become easier to manage now that I’ve learned to recognize the disability I have with learning. I’m not effective enough at it to multi-task all these ambitions but I’m getting there.

I’m grateful for the friends who have been giving me the push to straighten myself out. A sloppy night resulted in a promise to do open mic together. It’s weird how standup has been something that’s idly stuck over the past few years. I thought maybe this year would just pass without it but I’ll be signing up and bombing again in a couple of weeks, this time with a friend so we bomb together. I don’t think it’s a thing I’m meant to do but in its own way, it’s been something that challenges me awkwardly. Maybe this time will be better. Actually, anything will be better than the last time I did it. I’m almost somewhat excited to see if I’m any better and surprised about it because of last time. I should be running scared but I’m not. Fuck it, let’s do this.

Aligning right now means showing up in other places while putting other stuff on hold while I figure out what’s important to balance. Shit is about to get real in the next couple of months and I’ve yet to sit down with myself and ask if I’m even ready for it. Deep down, I know I am but the mentality needs to be there too. I’m thankful I’m not in my own head about this and the conversations have been helping. I’m connecting more with my life and the people in it than ever. It takes away that void I used to try to fill otherwise and it helps me come to terms with what I need to be doing. They help me be gentle with myself instead of harsh for being foolish or indecisive and feeling all over the place. Opening up has kept me grounded even though I wasn’t quite there initially and for a while.

I think I’ve got my writing voice back again. We’ll see how true it is by how often I’ll show up. Let’s see where I am still in a couple of weeks.

Movie Thoughts: To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

To All the Boys I've Loved Before

While nursing a hangover today, I saw that this movie was out on Netflix now. I didn’t know much about it going into the viewing. I didn’t even watch the trailer. I love a good teen romance though.

I wasn’t expecting the feels I got. I wasn’t expecting the number of times I cried throughout the movie. This is one of the best teen romance I’ve seen in a long, long time. Actually, it’s probably the first one ever that touched my heart the way it did.

Maybe it’s because even up until now, I write love letters when my heart gets broken or is about to break. This has been something I’ve been doing since I was in elementary school. Except I never stored them, I gave them to the recipient in an awkward manner. None of the letters ever helped recover a romance or drew any senses. They were mostly rejected, probably thrown out. And it’s weird, I always felt like when I gave it to them, they would take it as me holding on. When I gave the letters, it was my way of trying to let go. It’s always been the sentimental twit part of me and as I get older, it’s just never gone away.

Maybe it’s because I could relate so much to the fantasy of romance that Lara Jean lived in. I’ve been there. If I had to be honest, I’m probably still there. Instead of novels, it’s the accumulation of all the romantic movies I watched growing up. The ones that built my fantasy and partially raised me. They gave me feelings and some understanding of love when I didn’t have much in my real life. The tears from everything I felt took away the times I felt lonely about my own life. The feelings I got from them was my escape.

LJ’s escape isn’t as sad as mine.

I also relate to Lara Jean. The awkwardness. The facial expressions. I think she is how I wanted to be in high school if I had a better sense of what life was, or even just a normal one. She’s the lowkey cool but not cool. Like you know this but you also don’t because she’s not the definition you think of or what it should be.

This movie was sweet all the way through. The setup, the pace, the formula worked so well. It was touching. It was what a teen romance movie should be. It felt pure and tugged at your heartstrings without breaking your heart to do it. I liked that it had a feel-good vibe to it without having to have a “nice” tone to it. It has what the 80s captured in teen romance, the wardrobe that has something of a late 90s-early2000s feels with the modern times of now. There’s a feeling of a journey from all the movies you saw throughout your life in the now if that even makes sense. The teenage girl forever inside lives for these kinds of movies.

There are were scenes that I can relate to that caused me to automatically tear up and cry. Like the one at the diner post party. The kitchen post-dinner. I felt the words because I’d felt those feelings with them before personally. These types of conversations are ones that I wish I could have had more or even have now in my own life because honesty is tough. Being vulnerable is tough. Maybe I feel too much into scenes like that.

You feel good about the movie all the way through. I did have one beef though. I was distracted by LJ’s eyelashes and didn’t think she should’ve had them for the movie. But that’s aesthetic judge and my own opinion.

It also made me realize I’m a bit jaded. I can’t explain why without going into spoilers though.

I’ve watched it twice now and the second time around was even better.