Condemned

By Erin Deborah Waks

After my last relationship ended, I was plagued with a singular thought: is my self-esteem really so low I thought this was the standard of love I deserved? The maximum I’d ever obtain? Was I only worthy of a love that I alone was fighting for?

It’s a devastatingly sad thought. I looked back on the relationship, conducted the post-mortem, and became so blindingly aware of all the ways in which it had fallen short of my own desires for myself. Not because he was bad - far from it. But because I had to give up too much of myself, of my peace, to make it work. And in the end, it didn’t anyway.

I looked back on the things I’d told him I was afraid of. The first man, first romantic partner, I’d shared those fears with. 

I was scared I’m ‘too much’ to handle. 

I was scared I’m unlovable. 

I was scared to depend on someone, to rely on another person. To give up an ounce of my independence to be interdependent. To allow myself to ask for things I need. For help.

And the end of that relationship did, in some ways, confirm those things to be true.

Looking around at the heartbreak in the lives of those around me, the same seems to apply. Why is it that we seem to be drawn to things that harm us in the exact way we’re most scared to be hurt?

I, who was worried that a man couldn’t handle her, that she was lovable(ish) but not lovable enough to commit to, that she wouldn’t be able to depend on her partner, ended up with a man who couldn’t handle her, who loved her but not enough to commit to, and on whom she could not really depend.

Are we - am I - then, condemned to attract the things we fear most? 

I think that for much of my life, I’ve dated men who aren’t fully invested in me - because that way, if they do finally commit, I’ve proven to myself that I am worthy. Good enough. Lovable.

But the fact is, knowing you are lovable has nothing to do with that nonchalant boy over there [motions somewhere off in the distance]. Knowing you are lovable is proven not in the conquest of an uninterested, unavailable side character in your life, but in saying no to things that make you feel like you’re not all the things you desire to be.

Upon reflection, for me at least, it’s a sort of test. This time last year, I was so sure of myself, assured of my ‘lovability’, that it needed to be tested, examined, put through its paces, in order to have its strength depleted - and then built back up again, stronger than ever.

And I did. Rather than falling apart, believing myself to be all those things I thought I was, I knew I had to pass that test with flying colours. It’s an ongoing process; not every day is easy. But it’s so, so important.

It’s like life saw me faltering slightly in the love I held for myself, so decided to throw something that was not good for me my way, just to see how I would react. Just to see if I really would put myself first. Just to see if I really did have that self-esteem I worked so hard for, or if it was all talk.

Just to see if I really know how I deserve to be loved.

Just to prove I’m not condemned to repeat the same patterns again.