Deserving love
This post has been brewing for a while. I wrote it while at work today, so it's a little choppy and not what I'd expected it to be. But, really, what ever is?
When I was 11 or 12- or maybe a little younger than that- I remember having read or heard somewhere that parents had this thing called "unconditional love" for their children. I remember thinking that it was the neatest thing that I'd ever heard. The fact that someone would love someone else no matter what. What a concept! And I believed it. I believed it with every part of myself. It made sense.
Not long after that, I'd gotten into an argument with my mother about some stupid thing. I think I told her that I hated her. And she said that she hated me. I told her about the thing that I had heard (or read) about how parents loved their children no matter what. She said that it wasn't true because she definitely hated me. I remember feeling really hurt. Like maybe it was because I was such an awful kid. Maybe I was so bad that even though parents are supposed to love their kids no matter what, I was so bad that I defied that rule. So bad that my mother didn't love me. It makes me cry to even write that. It hurt so goddamn much.
Around this time (or maybe a little after) I met this boy in school. A little after we met, he started telling me that he loved me. He told me that all through junior high and high school. I had other boyfriends. But his love was constant. It seemed, one might say, unconditional.
My mom went on to threaten to kill herself because I was such an awful daughter. It was clear that I was just not good enough.
When I met Tim, we very quickly fell in love. He seemed to love me a lot. Never mind that his last girlfriend had broken up with him 2 weeks before their wedding. I wasn't a rebound relationship. That had been a whole year earlier- Though I was the first person that he dated after that. We spent a lot of time together. He treated me so well. We agreed on everything. The sex was good. We were engaged within 3 months. Even with all of my doubts over the following 13 months before the wedding, there was no way I was going to call it off. Maybe I did deserve to be loved.
After we'd been together for about a year- yes, before the wedding- I realized that maybe our ideals weren't the same. Our values weren't in synch. But I was getting married. It was a beautiful wedding. The honeymoon was awesome. But we fought a lot. Married life was nice. Always having someone to come home to. But we fought. He didn't like the fact that I made more money than him. He insisted that he couldn't get a better job because he didn't have a degree. Why don't you go back to school? He didn't feel like it. He wasn't interested. If you're not going to do anything about it, please don't complain.
Maybe we should buy a house. It would be something to work on. We did. Work on the house was slow. I'd come home from a Saturday out running errands and he'd still be in bed. Or drinking with his friends. But we were still married. And marriage isn't all about being happy, right?
Maybe we should have a baby. So we did. I don't think Tim and I loved each other at all at that point.
Then we met Elle and I've told that story a million times. I kissed her. My world changed. I realized that maybe there was more to life than being in an unhappy marriage with a man. I had no idea that I could possibly be interested in women until that kiss. But it explained a lot.
Then she and I hesitantly realized that we loved each other. Or maybe we were just infatuated. Or in lust. Tim moved out. I tried to have a good relationship with Elle. Maybe I deserved this kind of love.
Things with Elle didn't end up so good. I made her move out. It was really, really hard to do that. The next day, I spoke with that boy from 7th grade. He was still in love with me. He'd never stopped thinking about me. He'd thought about me every day since high school. At this point it had been 13 years since we'd graduated. My head was spinning with whether I deserved love or didn't. I couldn't make my mother love me. I couldn't make my marriage work. I couldn't make my relationship with a woman work. But here was someone that loved me, unconditionally, for the past 19 years.
I saw him for a while, but it didn't work in the end. Then I got back with Elle. Maybe she did love me. But it didn't work again. I flirted with the idea of actually being with the boy from 7th grade, but it wasn't right. He said things, but did other things. He said that he still loved me. But didn't do anything that made me believe it. I thought it was unconditional. But it wasn't.
At this point I really didn't want to have anything to do with being in love. I was scared to put my heart out there again. I'd been hurt so badly.
Then I met Rae. I was just trying to expand my circle. Not go back to people from my past. I wanted some new friends. But I kissed her. And that seemed to allow me to open my heart. Did I actually deserve love? She tried to convince me that she loved me. I was so scared.
We've been together for almost 3 years now and have lived together for a little over 1. Sometimes I still need some convincing that I deserve the love that she gives me, but she doesn't stop showing me. She writes me poetry. She puts notes in my bag and my dresser drawer and my wallet. She does all kinds of things that show me how much she loves me. And she's SO nice to me. No one in my life has ever been so nice to me. She's tolerated me dealing with a lot of crap from my past. I'm working through it.
Maybe I do deserve it. Actually, I think everyone does. If I do, everyone does.
When I was 11 or 12- or maybe a little younger than that- I remember having read or heard somewhere that parents had this thing called "unconditional love" for their children. I remember thinking that it was the neatest thing that I'd ever heard. The fact that someone would love someone else no matter what. What a concept! And I believed it. I believed it with every part of myself. It made sense.
Not long after that, I'd gotten into an argument with my mother about some stupid thing. I think I told her that I hated her. And she said that she hated me. I told her about the thing that I had heard (or read) about how parents loved their children no matter what. She said that it wasn't true because she definitely hated me. I remember feeling really hurt. Like maybe it was because I was such an awful kid. Maybe I was so bad that even though parents are supposed to love their kids no matter what, I was so bad that I defied that rule. So bad that my mother didn't love me. It makes me cry to even write that. It hurt so goddamn much.
Around this time (or maybe a little after) I met this boy in school. A little after we met, he started telling me that he loved me. He told me that all through junior high and high school. I had other boyfriends. But his love was constant. It seemed, one might say, unconditional.
My mom went on to threaten to kill herself because I was such an awful daughter. It was clear that I was just not good enough.
When I met Tim, we very quickly fell in love. He seemed to love me a lot. Never mind that his last girlfriend had broken up with him 2 weeks before their wedding. I wasn't a rebound relationship. That had been a whole year earlier- Though I was the first person that he dated after that. We spent a lot of time together. He treated me so well. We agreed on everything. The sex was good. We were engaged within 3 months. Even with all of my doubts over the following 13 months before the wedding, there was no way I was going to call it off. Maybe I did deserve to be loved.
After we'd been together for about a year- yes, before the wedding- I realized that maybe our ideals weren't the same. Our values weren't in synch. But I was getting married. It was a beautiful wedding. The honeymoon was awesome. But we fought a lot. Married life was nice. Always having someone to come home to. But we fought. He didn't like the fact that I made more money than him. He insisted that he couldn't get a better job because he didn't have a degree. Why don't you go back to school? He didn't feel like it. He wasn't interested. If you're not going to do anything about it, please don't complain.
Maybe we should buy a house. It would be something to work on. We did. Work on the house was slow. I'd come home from a Saturday out running errands and he'd still be in bed. Or drinking with his friends. But we were still married. And marriage isn't all about being happy, right?
Maybe we should have a baby. So we did. I don't think Tim and I loved each other at all at that point.
Then we met Elle and I've told that story a million times. I kissed her. My world changed. I realized that maybe there was more to life than being in an unhappy marriage with a man. I had no idea that I could possibly be interested in women until that kiss. But it explained a lot.
Then she and I hesitantly realized that we loved each other. Or maybe we were just infatuated. Or in lust. Tim moved out. I tried to have a good relationship with Elle. Maybe I deserved this kind of love.
Things with Elle didn't end up so good. I made her move out. It was really, really hard to do that. The next day, I spoke with that boy from 7th grade. He was still in love with me. He'd never stopped thinking about me. He'd thought about me every day since high school. At this point it had been 13 years since we'd graduated. My head was spinning with whether I deserved love or didn't. I couldn't make my mother love me. I couldn't make my marriage work. I couldn't make my relationship with a woman work. But here was someone that loved me, unconditionally, for the past 19 years.
I saw him for a while, but it didn't work in the end. Then I got back with Elle. Maybe she did love me. But it didn't work again. I flirted with the idea of actually being with the boy from 7th grade, but it wasn't right. He said things, but did other things. He said that he still loved me. But didn't do anything that made me believe it. I thought it was unconditional. But it wasn't.
At this point I really didn't want to have anything to do with being in love. I was scared to put my heart out there again. I'd been hurt so badly.
Then I met Rae. I was just trying to expand my circle. Not go back to people from my past. I wanted some new friends. But I kissed her. And that seemed to allow me to open my heart. Did I actually deserve love? She tried to convince me that she loved me. I was so scared.
We've been together for almost 3 years now and have lived together for a little over 1. Sometimes I still need some convincing that I deserve the love that she gives me, but she doesn't stop showing me. She writes me poetry. She puts notes in my bag and my dresser drawer and my wallet. She does all kinds of things that show me how much she loves me. And she's SO nice to me. No one in my life has ever been so nice to me. She's tolerated me dealing with a lot of crap from my past. I'm working through it.
Maybe I do deserve it. Actually, I think everyone does. If I do, everyone does.