I don’t quite understand why anyone would want to be friends with me. If I wasn’t me, I don’t know that I’d want to be friends with me. I lean strongly toward no.
[Aside: I just realized that this may come across like I’m digging for compliments or something like that. Not my intention or goal. I just honestly wonder about this and have for a long time. I guess because I have such a low opinion of myself.]
I am not what one would call a ‘happy‘ person. I’m negative and overly self-deprecating. I still think I can be fun and funny and obviously charming (as has been previously established), but it was drilled into my head my whole life that if I’m not happy, no one will want to be around me. If I’m not happy, I’ll end up alone.
And let’s not forget this gem that makes me want to drive off a cliff, Thelma-and-Louise style: If I don’t love myself, no one else will ever love me. Hmm. I guess no one loves me, then.
By some strange voodoo, I did end up married. But as you may recall from my previous ramblings, that was most likely a mistake. Not that marriage itself is a mistake, but that my choices were mistakes. I don’t know that I was ever truly in love. [Not with my husband, I mean. I do believe I was truly in love with my ex who I was with for four years before everything fell apart. I blame myself. Of course.]
What happened with my now-husband is that I was so worried I’d never find anyone who could love me (you know, because I don’t love myself) that when I found someone who did (as far as I know), I just went with it. I know. Really stupid way to enter into a marriage. In my defense [though there is no defending this], at the time, I had convinced myself I was in love. I didn’t realize I was fooling myself until much later.
And there’s also the fairy tale thing… Just like I was told my whole life that not being happy meant I’d be alone, I was also told that there’s no such thing as a fairy tale. That may be true, but being told that over and over again made me give up on finding anything close. It made me settle for the first guy who wanted to marry me. I figured, fairy tales aren’t real so I should cut my losses and take whatever I can get.
This whole marriage diatribe is totally off my original topic: my lack of friendability. [Yes, I invent words now.]
I have always wondered… if I pretended to be a ‘normal‘ happy person, would I have lots of friends? If I forced myself to be outgoing (even though I really don’t have it in me), would I have lots of friends? If I acted confident, would I have lots of friends?
But those ifs… they are not who I really am. They’re not the real me. So wouldn’t that make all those potential ‘friends‘ not really ‘friends‘ anyway? Real friends would know the real me. And love me anyway.
But then we circle back to me not loving myself so no one else can love me. And as devoid of self-confidence as I am, I know that there are people who love me. [Weirdos. And I say that with great affection.] So obviously that whole no-love-without-loving-yourself thing is total crap.
Unless… that only refers to romantic, fairytale love. That I do not have. And according to the rules, I never will. Unless I miraculously start to love myself. Yeah, right.
p.s. — Contrary to what I said above, I don’t really want ‘lots of friends’. I want one best friend. And maybe one or two others. [Offline, I mean. I have a ‘best friend’ online… and quite a few other friends online. It’s in-person that I have a hole in my life. A big gaping one.]
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