Being truthful with myself

The truth is growing up I didn’t have much of an example what love was suppose to be other than Disney movies or other movies that romanticize what love is. I heard negative words about my body and was told what I should be, so who taught me how to love? My best friend, the one person who loved me for the loud, annoying brat I could be and still told me I was amazing. We all have different love languages. Some it’s touch, other’s it’s words, and then there are those out there that buy you what you want or need.

We couldn’t be more different, tanned skin, dark eyes, dark hair, favorite color green and his love for animals that he wanted to be a vet when he grew up. Of course, I was the bubbly outgoing Tom boy who wore my bathing suit under my girly dresses because I had to get dirty. I’d play in the rain, and not waste a second of my life. That is until insecurities reared their ugly head and took control over my head and heart. Maybe it was easier to believe that I didn’t matter or wasn’t worth anything to those around me, even though I knew in my heart it was a lie.

I’ve been loved for years, in all kinds of ways that I don’t think I truly noticed until recent years. And sometimes I get so caught up in those insecurities that what else was anyone suppose to do for me? I need affirmation that I was good enough, pretty enough, but not by me…. It always relied on someone else opinion of me. Even though the words never stuck.

Sometimes I contemplate what life would of been like had I believed in myself for all the years I self sabotaged my own heart. I know now I was only doing myself a disservice by even allowing the thoughts to pass my mind. Heart wrenching is that I’m alone and have been because of it, because I closed myself off to the possibility that I was lovable and able to be loved back without restrictions, judgement, and the ability to fail. I shut down, go inside myself and create this safe little place even though I’m screaming to be let free. I push those I love away because it’s easier than being hurt, and in the process I’m selfish, and only think of my side. How many have I hurt by shutting down and closing off to those around me?

How do you learn to be vulnerable and open when you were taught that shutting down and doing it alone is your best option? I guess this is what I’m still working on. It’s scary to give someone that much power, especially after being hurt over and over again. If I’m being truthful, I always wished it had been you. Watching on the sidelines I ripped my own heart, because I would of rather of kept quiet for fear of being abandoned, thrown away just as I always thought. You always meant more to me, you always mattered more than anyone else, but I also loved you enough to know you deserved to be happy, and I would of destroyed such a beautiful bond and connection that in the end I walked away from and miss every day that passes.

Spending my whole life running has been quite exhausting, not loving myself has been more than difficult, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry for the pain I have caused when I have been absent, I’m sorry to myself for not loving me the way I should of, but thank you for loving me for so damn long, even when I didn’t see it myself.

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