I’ve been told the lie, and I started to believe it:
“No one will ever love you a fraction of how much I love you.”
I have heard it more times than I can count. The first time I heard it I thought it was romantic and sweet–I was so lucky to experience a love so passionate and deep. The next few times I heard it it became darker. Condescending. Threatening.
In a moment of panic, I went on a flood of dates from people I had met online–all pretty terrible. I realized that he was right. No one was ever going to love me like he did. I fell into the rabbit hole of self-loathing: refusing to eat, plastering on make-up, taking 72 selfies to get the right angle that hid the gut. I am typically confident and unapologetic for my quirks and curves, but I became a bubbling cess pool of anxiety and insecurity. Despite my campaign for woman’s worth to not be tied to her appearance, I found myself hating myself for the person I saw in the mirror. How could anyone ever love that? How did he ever love me?
But he was wrong.
I will love myself more than he ever loved me.
Even if I get trapped in the vortex of self-loathing for awhile longer, I love myself more than he ever did because you don’t guilt the people you “love” into staying with you based on preying on their insecurities. Plus, I will learn to love again. And I will be the first one to receive that love.
He’s not the one…
Because I am the one.