Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Day 01: Something you hate about yourself

I've seen this 30 days of truth thang pop up on a few people's blogs and while I'm don't know if I'm actually going to commit to doing ALL 30 assignments, I think I'll jump in here with the first one. Something I hate about myself. I've been wanting to write about this for awhile and this is a good way to bring it up, I think.

I am jealous.

In relationships, I mean. I am jealous and insecure in relationships. For some reason I have a hard time with the concept that someone I'm dating had a girlfriend before me. And I get jealous feelings when I think about it.

I recognize the insanity of this, really I do. I honestly don't want to date someone who has never been in a serious relationship. Because, GAH, who the hell has never been in a serious relationship?
Douchebags and creepy weirdos, that's who. And I do not want to date douchebags or creepy weirdos.
Uh. Anymore, I mean.

Really, I want to be with someone who has had previous relationships. I want the guy I'm with to have had all the experiences of learning and growing and compromising and sharing and arguing and loving and having his heart broken. I know those experiences (usually) make people stronger and better and more capable of being in a relationship.

And yet, at the same time I hate the idea of him doing all those things with someone else. I hate the idea of someone else having been in my place. Of him taking some other girl to dinner on her birthday. Of him celebrating an anniversary or going on vacation with some other girl. Of him introducing her to his friends and family. What was that like? Is it different with me? Aren't I somehow better or more special than she was? Don't you wish you had gone on that vacation with me? Or taken me to visit your grandparents at Christmas? I hate the idea of them still being friends. Because I don't understand how to be friends with your ex. What do people talk about? Do they reminisce about their life together? Talk about the times they shared and the memories they made? Aren't I somehow better or more special than she was?

Most of all, I hate that this bothers me so much. I hate that it makes me feel somehow less important, less special. And I hate that I feel so alone in this-- that the other, normal people don't get hung up on this stuff. I hate to admit that the past bothers me because I want to be strong and confident and mature and present-focused.

But I'm not. And I hate it.