In seventh grade, my family got a computer and after a lot
of begging, my mom agreed to get us hooked up with AOL. Like a whole lot of teenagers back then, I eventually
became addicted to the internet. One
day, in a random chat room in 7th grade, I met a boy from
Arizona. We chatted about everything. Our friendship went through a lot of ups and
downs over the years, but looking back, I can see that it was probably one of
the most important relationships in my life.
I didn’t speak to my peers in person by this point, so communicating to
this boy who would never really know me came easily. In a lot of ways, I owe him a great deal of
gratitude.
I was the type of girl who just loved boys. I loved them in all sizes, colors, creeds… my
most favorite boys at the time were in boy bands, however, because the ones I
knew in real life sucked. But this
friend who was a boy gave me a certain degree of assurance. I idolized boys and all they ever did was
make fun of me and cut me down. This boy
saw a good friend in me. Of course I had
girlfriends, but I held boys up on a pedestal.
Looking back, this relationship helped keep me grounded. It’s the reason I didn’t give up
altogether. I had something to look forward
to. I would turn out to be the girl who
was best friends with her boyfriend, and in turn, my relationships would be the
long-lasting kind. I just had to have
patience. I didn’t really want a
boyfriend, anyway. Not yet. A hopeless romantic, I even declined games of
Spin the Bottle and came with a disclaimer when it came to Truth or Dare (it
was a rule of mine – I’ll play, but I’m not kissing anybody!) I wanted the excitement and the memory of a
REAL first kiss. One from a boy that
really liked (maybe even loved) me. This
was an instinct I knew I could trust. I
didn’t want to cheat myself of meaningful experiences. Perhaps this way, my experience came slower,
but the reward was that my heart was in each one.
My first kiss was memorable.
I was in 11th grade and the boy even loved me! Maybe I didn’t love him, but I trusted
him. I liked the way he loved me,
admiring me from afar all those years. I
wanted it to be the fairytale ending… I wanted to love him… but I knew it wasn’t
going to happen. I broke up with him
after about three months. This
experience, too, did wonders for my self-esteem. I am so grateful to have had that experience
with such a kind and caring boy. Even
though I would never love him, I would always be grateful for what he was to me
at the time. He was my first real
boyfriend… one I could actually talk to.
It was a confirmation that just because most of the boys I knew hated
me, it didn’t mean that every boy was the same.
The only friendships that I currently still value and
maintain from high school are with boys.
Boys are so much less dramatic than girls. They are better at keeping secrets (possible
because they don’t care about them as much as girls do) and they are less
likely to get mad at you for whatever reason (girls are notorious for getting
pissy if you look at them the wrong way or your joke offends them). Overall, I just get along better with
guys. It was a lonely time when I was
afraid to talk to them. High school,
though some people hate it, I loved it.
I learned so much. While I was
still afraid to talk to the boys that I actually had crushes on, I made some
great friends who did a world of good for my esteem.
Looking back, going to an all-girl’s college at Rutgers
University sounds like the dumbest decision a girl like me could have ever
made. But I’d made it… Douglass College’s
campus was gorgeous! I loved everything
about it… until I actually moved in. All
girl dorms? Really? I can’t stand most girls… what was I
thinking?! Thank God for Marching Band,
though – I became friends with some freshman girls I actually had things in
common with… although our campus was not one of them. They lived in adjacent buildings across the
river. About a half hour’s bus ride on a
good day. I stayed there a lot. I even had a boyfriend for two weeks in the
beginning… he was a weirdo, but for some reason (let’s call it insanity) I
found him intriguing. The more I got to
know him, though, the stranger and even more annoying he became. But dating him was apparently written in the
stars because through him, I met my first serious boyfriend.
We started dating in April of 2003. He was the kind of guy who always was better
friends with girls. He originally had a
thing for one of my friends at the time, but we hung out more and more and somehow,
it turned into an almost four year relationship. This relationship, no matter how
damaged it was, was one of my greatest lessons of all time.
He broke up with me about three months after we moved in
together. We were both 22 years old and
had just started school at Rowan University. We spent
all of our time together. I made no time
for friends. I only spoke to other
people when I was at work, or when we hung out with his friends or our
families. I made him my whole
world. We fought a lot. I didn’t think about why. I knew he was the man I was going to marry,
but I was so unhappy. But again, I didn’t
think about why. The break-up seamed so
out of nowhere to me. I made him say the
words while we were out to dinner after class at TGI Friday’s. I could tell he wanted to say something, but
I hadn’t known it would be that. We had
broken up once before, but this time I knew it was for good. We talked and cried into the night. He had work all day the next day, so I called
a friend and got all of my shit packed and my parents came to help me move
home. He had no idea. I just didn’t live there anymore when he got
home. We still saw each other every now
and then, but eventually after a couple of months, he surprised me with a new
girlfriend. I knew I couldn’t keep
holding on. I threw myself into my
friends. Eventually, I got over
him. I learned probably the most important lesson of my life.
I needed to live for me.
I had no idea that up until that point, I hadn’t. I lived for him. I ignored a lot of the things I needed to do
and was unfulfilled. I was 18 when we
started dating. I hadn’t had the
experiences I wanted from college. He
left after that first year, and a lot of my time was spent travelling to see
him. I left Rutgers after my second year
because I was unhappy without him there.
I let him define who I was and what I wanted. I had blinders on. Letting him go was the first time I thought
about what I truly wanted. The life I
truly wanted. The kind of man I truly
wanted. Being without him, I could be
myself. Toward the end of our
relationship, I wanted to keep him so badly that I lost who I was completely. I thought I was keeping him happy. I had no idea that I’d lost myself in the
process. That is why our relationship
ended. I vowed again to never let a man
define me. I promised my friends I would
never lose touch with them because of a man.
What was it about a man that distracted me so much? Maybe it was still that pedestal thing? Maybe I trust them too much? Maybe I hated myself.
Maybe I still don’t like or trust myself. It’s become a vicious cycles of building
myself up and slowly crumbling down into the little lost pieces of myself. This time, I’m going to catch it just in
time.
This time, the change is certain. I will complete myself. If you aren’t full, how can you give yourself
to a lover? If you don’t love yourself,
how can you expect someone else to?
Thankfully, this time – my man isn’t a quitter.
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