Discovering My Love Pattern
Learning How to Un-Do The Damage I’ve Done To Myself
I have a confession to make.
The guy I said I had stopped seeing, stopped talking to, well, that wasn’t entirely true. I did stop seeing him and I did stop talking to him, but then I started again and just didn’t tell anyone about it.
Because I was afraid that he’d hurt me again and everyone would tell me that they told me so.
I don’t like being wrong.
I was wrong.
Everyone who would have told me so but couldn’t tell me so because I didn’t tell them, well, they were right.
He invites me to meet him at a bar. So, I show up and he basically ignores me the entire time. I make other friends because I am surrounded by people and you have to work with what you’re given. Then the bar closes. I go up to him to see if he’s ready to go. He tells me to go away while he’s talking to his friend. They leave. 30 seconds later the woman that’s been googly-eyeing him all night follows them. He doesn’t call me or text me. I’m drunk so I do that crazy girl thing and call him like a half-dozen times until he picks up. He tries to tell me that woman is a lesbian. Right, and I’m the Princess of Monaco.
In any event, at the time he was being a complete and total dickface shitbag, another guy was texting me. Another guy who actually wanted to spend time with me. So, I did that. Of course, I was drunk and distracted and angry and even more upset that I couldn’t focus on the actual decent guy that was right in front of me.
But I realized something in the course of this emotional turmoil and dramatic turning of events.
I have finally come to understand my dating pattern.
I used to say I didn’t have a type. But I do. They may be short or tall, muscular or fat. They may be alcoholics or felons or doctors or lawyers. They may be women or men or trans. They may be white or black or brown or purple. They may be smart or dumb or cool or nerdy.
They could be any of those traits. Those traits are irrelevant. What is relevant is the one common thing that attracts me to most of the people I fall in love with.
I fall in love with people who:
1. Do not know how to love
2. Do not know how to be loved
I think I do this because of my own deep-seated insecurities and my own inability to accept it. I think I don’t deserve it. I have no problem giving it to others, perhaps too much. I think if I date this broken guy who doesn’t know how to be loved that I can teach him, that I can be enough, that my love will fix us both.
What a silly creature I am.
Let’s not even talk about all the decent people who have actually loved me who I have hurt. I get it. It’s like I am to them what these last few unlovables were to me. What a shit show.
At least now that I have recognized my own pattern I can work on breaking it. That’s all we can really do right? When you continue to repeat the same story over and over it turns into its own kind of hell. The only way to get out of hell is to edit the story, write a new one.