As much as I like to play big, bad femininion warrior queen; I am not as tough as I let on.
Let me rephrase that: I’m actually tougher.
I’m so ‘tough’ that sometimes I cry when no one is watching.
I’m so ‘tough’ that I lay awake at night wondering if I’m doing anything right.
I’m so ‘tough’ that the answer, “great” is always my response to how I’m doing so much that it’s an ingrained muscle memory
And I’m so ‘tough’ that I’m sitting here tapping away at my laptop wondering if a boy I barely know is going to text me.
I want so badly to have the ‘he doesn’t know what he’s missing’ narrative, but that’s not what the issue is here. The issue is that I allow this to have such a hold on me. For so long in my life I attested my self worth to whether or not a boy liked me.
I genuinely thought I had moved past this point. But like any unhealthy habit, without active upkeep to fend it off, it will unknowingly creep it’s way back into your life.
In high school this was my mentality: I didn’t have a boyfriend; therefore I was ugly and worthless.
This was at a point in my life where I was a multi-sport varsity athlete, on student council, valedictorian and in every club under the sun. The boys in my town couldn’t have even handled the success oozing from my fingertips.
I saw that facetiously because this (to your surprise) is not an entry about man-hating. It’s about self-support. Regardless of significant other or not, man or woman or whatever you identify as, we need to be self-sufficient. Regardless if you married your childhood best friend and you both live to your late 90’s there will be moments when you’re alone. Yes it’s beautiful to have someone (especially a partner) to lean on.
Trust me, I know.
When I first got sick my boyfriend at the time helped me in so many more ways than I could have thought. Outside of hospital trips he made me feel very loved and cared for in every little moment.
But.
I knew he was not my person. So as badly as I wanted someone to be by my side during chemo (outside my friends and family of course) I knew in my heart of hearts it was not right to go through something so life impacting with someone I knew I wasn’t going to marry.
During chemo any kind’ve romantic interaction was the last thing on my mind. It wasn’t until I moved out here to Phoenix that I even thought about redownloading my dating apps and putting myself back out there.
For months I would listen to podcasts on healthy relationships and make sure I was implementing these practices rather than just jumping into bed with the first cute guy that showed me any kind’ve attention.
Despite fighting tooth and nail to push past those negative thoughts that dictated my mind for so many years, they still manage to sink back in from time to time.
It seems self degradation is deeper infested in my bones than my stage iv cancer ever was.
He may text me, he may not.
Again, that is not what matters here.
I am worthy.
You are worthy.
I know it’s not as easy as reading that on a screen that will poof vanquish your inner demons, but maybe in some small way it will make you feel seen or heard? I am no mental health professional, in all honesty I never even started acknowledging my own mental health struggles until the last few years.
I am happy, but not all the time. No one is, so don’t pretend to be.
I beat cancer and sometimes my biggest worry is will a guy still be interested in me if I’m bald, when I wish I was worried about why I’ve felt so uninspired in my writing lately.
For now I am channeling my emotions into this (my writing).
Maybe this is a step in the right direction, but I’m still trying to figure it all out, and that’s okay.
***I will continue this at a later time but I am about to do a social experiment to tell if it will help.
This section you are reading now was written after the preceding material.
While in the woes of my feelings I decided to do something to get myself out of the funk. For me it was turning my phone on DND and going to my local dive bar to beat a bunch of middle-aged men in pool while sipping my ginger ale.
… and I’ll tell ya… it worked like a charm.
(actual footage of me from last night)
Now fret not, if you are not a coveted pool shark such as I, you still have options. Honestly you don’t even need to leave the house, for me a change of scenery and outside distractions seemed most fitting. But it can be as simple as playing fetch with your dog, putting on your favorite movie or curling up with a good book. Now disassociation is not always the best way to deal with you emotions, but I find when my mind is spinning in an unhealthy hamster wheel of thoughts I need those thoughts to migrate elsewhere. Therefore I introduce outside stimuli.
***not that middle-aged men are the most stimulating creature out there, but it worked for the time being.
Sometimes redirection allows your mind to move somewhere else and think about something that brings you joy rather than something that is causing you anxiety.
A little bit of a heavier post today, but I feel good about it. So thank you all for taking the time to read the outlet I use because I’m too poor for a real therapist and too much of a big mouth for a private journal. I truly can’t imagine what it’s like to keep one's thoughts and emotions to themselves. Never in my life do I think I’ll have a deep dark secret of my own, but somehow I am so utterly okay with that.
Love you all (yes even you)
Xoxo Mild Girl
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