By now, many of you know that I went through a pretty terrible breakup in December of last year. I don't like to talk about it, though sometimes I catch myself doing it. I won't bore you with the details. We broke up; I was sad; I'm OK now; that's all you need to know.
But reflecting on that relationship has highlighted many things that I had maybe glossed over during the relationship, and for much of my life. For one thing, I've come to realize that I've never actually had a happy, healthy relationship, and believe me, this is mostly because of my own doing.
For most of my life, I've been terrified of the idea of ending up alone. Though I rarely admit this to anyone, my first kiss, which happened when I was 15, was with a friend because I was convinced that it would never happen to me, and to this day, it's one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I dated my first boyfriend just because I wanted to say I had one (I was in eighth grade). I dated my next boyfriend partially because he was the only boy who showed me any attention. The next person I kissed was a gay man (it's a long story that involves drinking in Scotland and was arguably the best kiss I've ever had). And even though every fiber of my being was telling me to run away, I decided to give my now-ex a chance more than five years ago.
Now, I've found myself single in my mid-20s, which to me feels like the worst time to be single because many men are either in a serious relationship, have kids (I can't deal with baby-mama drama) or are married.
While I was briefly single when I was 20, this is the first time in my adult life that I am truly single. It's one of the most powerful and sometimes scary feelings to experience. For once in my life, I'm free to dream and figure out who I am and where I'm going. A few weeks ago, I even had the thought that if I truly wanted to leave Jackson, I could. Besides family and a job I love, there's little to nothing holding me back.
Of course, being single at 25 also means that I have to face the harsh reality that I may not get married until my 30s (and as a piggyback to that, I'm not that far away from 30).
It is scary, but for me, my newfound singleness is a chance to reflect on the kind of person I want to be and the type of person I want to marry. Of course, the marriage part isn't the biggest worry of mine right now. At this point, I'm just focusing on raising my own standards because, clearly, I didn't have very high hopes for myself before now.
So what exactly do I want? In short, I have no idea. I recently read an article on Yoganonymous called "What Sexy, Consciously Awake Women NEED & Don't WANT from Men" that helped me figure it out a little bit, though.
What exactly is a "consciously awake woman," and why exactly do you want to be one? The writer, Kelly Marceau, says the key to being consciously awake is self-awareness. She recognizes that all women have issues, but those who are consciously aware have the courage and strength to confront problems head-on rather than exist in a perpetual state of drama and blame. And while I'm not going to get into the finer details of the article (see jfp.ms/consciouslyaware), it had many good points on the kinds of men that women don't need.
Now, I wouldn't quite consider myself a consciously aware woman. I still deal with a lot of self-loathing on a daily basis. I live much of my life in fear, so I have a tendency to take that out on people. But here's where the difference comes in: I know where my faults are. I've come to terms with my personal issues and the problems I've caused in relationships. These issues can't be solved overnight, but I'm working hard to understand where they come from and how to stop them.
The hardest hurdle to jump was forgiving myself. I don't necessarily blame myself for what happened, but I recognize the hand I played in it. But for the men I've dealt with in personal relationships (and even in some ways, my own family), I can't say that any of them were ever emotionally mature enough to recognize where their faults were and how to fix them. One of my relationships, for instance, was with a momma's boy, which isn't necessarily a bad thing as long as it doesn't affect how you regard girlfriends, and he always kept me at arm's length.
Another was a great person, sure, but he had these issues with his family, he was insecure and, frankly, a coward. He was an extremely nonchalant person that nothing seemed to affect (though I knew better), and it speaks volumes to me that in the midst of our breakup, he treated me like a small child and basically just shut himself off. It was like watching a robot power down. I've discovered in the last few weeks that all of these relationships have made my trust in men plummet, and I'm not OK with that.
One point the Yoganonymous article makes is to not fall in love with a guy's potential, and I think, a lot of time, that's what I did and what many women do, thinking we can change them into what we want. I saw my ex as a way to help someone, to make him see everything he could do if he just stopped getting in his own way.
Of course, I was so focused on helping him and boosting his confidence that I never took the time to focus on myself.
He's not the only man who acts like this. Just as women grow up thinking we can and should "fix" men we care about, men are taught from a young age that they can't be emotional, even though emotions are a part of being human. I see so many videos on YouTube and Vine about how any time a man says or does anything stupid, his girlfriend will immediately start crying. They treat us like we're ticking time bombs, even though they, too, feel some of the same emotions. They've just been taught to hide it.
You end up with a bunch of emotionally stunted men who take their frustrations out on women, with at times volatile and even deadly consequences. Thankfully, the men I've dated have never underestimated my ability to throw a left hook so they never laid a finger on me.
Now, don't take any of this to mean that I am the most mature person alive. I still have moments where I act like a child (just ask my mom), and I still have a lot of bad habits. But in my hiatus from relationships, I'm shifting my focus to working on myself. I shouldn't have to fix someone else, just like I don't expect anyone else to fix me. Until then, I'm going to keep figuring out what I want out of life and, next time, I'll be a little more discerning in my choice of men.
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