Diaries of a Twenty-Six-Year Old Girl

Although this isn’t a dating column, in order for you to really understand the ultimate life lesson — and the beginning of this long-awaited journey — we need to go back in time and take a look at my dating history.

You might be asking yourself, “What the hell is this ultimate life lesson?” It’s one that’s so obvious, yet so easily overlooked. I’ve realized that so many people lack it in one way or another.

It’s called self-respect.

I’ve found that while everyone knows who self-respect is, very few choose to wear her. You might be thinking, “Okay, well I respect myself.” But do you really?

Can you look at me and say you don’t pick up the phone when the bare minimum calls? That settling down with the “safe” girl instead of the one you actually like — because you’re afraid — is self-respect?

What about putting up with that shitty job you hate and answering to someone worse? Does that look like self-respect to you? You might be saying “Well Alex, that’s a bit extreme, I obviously can’t quit my day job.” But I’m here to give you some tough love and tell you that all I hear are excuses. I say this confidently because these are all obstacles I had to overcome.

Now that we’ve established you don’t respect yourself – kidding, lets go back to Alex’s dating history. The moment I began my long awaited journey towards self-respect.

As my blog says I am twenty-six but I did go on this journey at the ripe old age of twenty-five. Something about my pre-frontal cortex developing or whatever.

At the time, I was dating my ex of two years — someone I genuinely did not love but stayed with because of my avoidance tendencies. (And I do sincerely apologize to him for that.)

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had a pattern of dating men I didn’t truly love because I was terrified of being seen, judged, and rejected. Dating someone who felt “low stakes” wasn’t a threat to my nervous system allowing me to stay grounded.

This unhealthy dating pattern did however come with high stakes.

I was attached in some way, sure — but the more he pushed for closeness, the more I wanted to run. This in turn created your classic runner/chaser dynamic.

Now before you label me the villain in this story, understand that both people get hurt in this situation.

The more obvious person getting hurt was him. He was trying to hold onto something that clearly wasn’t holding onto him. Creating insecurity and resentment.

But the less obvious person who gets hurt, nonetheless who still got hurt, was me.

I was betraying myself every time I let him override a boundary. He pushed for closeness when I clearly asked for space. His needs slowly became more important than my autonomy until my nervous system couldn’t take it anymore.

I would eventually explode, or end things -probably both.

That is until he begged so hard and the guilt ate me alive. This wasn’t someone I was supposed to be.

Yet the cycle continued, causing me to doubt my intuition. Something inside telling me “You do love him! If you just try harder, push your boundaries down a little bit more! You can be the girl for him!”

Looking back it was so obvious that the relationship was not a foundation we could both stand on, but when you think you’re in love? Baby, you’re in love.

On a more serious note, I do believe lots of people go through life thinking this is just how relationships feel and I’m here to tell you that it’s not. If you see yourself in any of these behaviors hopefully you can start to reflect.

OK.

Don’t come at me for this next part.

But… it was not self-respect that made me end this relationship and rather a girls trip to Miami.

And perhaps… the boy I met there…

We can call him Mr. Healthy.

Before you come for me and say “Oh my God, Alex, you cheated in FLORIDA?” During a girls’ trip to Miami? How original.” Relax. Technically, no. I still have morals.

It was the last night of my Florida girls trip and trust me when I say I was actually being loyal.

Until the last night in Florida…

I was about to call it a night when my best friend said, “Alex, you cannot go home. Take this Adderall (I have a prescription, relax) and let’s go.”

I sighed, rolled my eyes, took it, and decided the nightlife, the finale was calling my name.

We ended up at a bar when, out of nowhere, this guy came over to talk to us. My best friend and I entertained it a little. I sipped my drink and avoided eye contact. Then friend number three walked over, decided he was exactly her type, and they left together.

Me and my best friend laughed, headed to another bar and I thought … ok well hopefully she makes the flight tomorrow. That was supposed to be the end to that.

No.

The next bar was a tiny hole-in-the-wall. Nothing special and practically empty. We hadn’t been there that long when all of a sudden friend number three re-appears with random bar guy and what do you know? He’s brought along a friend who is now buying us all shots.

I walked over to grab mine and say thank you. He looked like your typical, average man. Glasses. Brown hair. Nothing that screamed life-altering.

We only exchanged a few words (so I can remember) but within that small exchange (maybe five minutes) sparks flew.

The conversation between me and this man was so good to the point he had to acknowledge our chemistry and I wasn’t going to deny it.

We ended up in our own little corner, seperate from the group. My curiosity of this man growing every second.

As the night went on, my brain had forgotten all about my lover back home. Until reality came crashing down when he leaned in to kiss me.

I panicked because like I said before, I do have morals. (But also loss of brownie points because he did try to kiss me in the middle of a bar).

Anyways I yelled “I HAVE a boyfriend!”

Tragedy struck that night but we decided we couldn’t let this chemistry go to waste so we decided we would still be friends.

I ended up going home with both my friends that night feeling starstruck.

I remember thinking is this was what they talk about in movies? And if so, I was definitely living in a horror one.

I went back home and ended things with him that same week.

Although it may seem cruel, in reality, it was a blessing for both of us. It freed us from the illusion we were calling love. It didn’t happen in the cleanest way, but it was life handing me an opportunity to grow.

And if you’re feeling bad for my ex, don’t worry.

I got my karma.

Because while I thought I was finally stepping into real love, I was still an avoidant at my core and although I was ready for change that hadn’t changed.

This man was someone who I had deemed worthy, yet I hadn’t deemed myself worthy. What if he saw me and hated me? The stakes were too high on this one and my nervous system labeled him a threat. Except… I hadn’t realized that yet…

We talked for a month before he flew me out to see him. And it was a three day trip straight to hell.

It was also the first night back together since Miami and as we were in the back of a taxi, I looked at him and saw something I hadn’t allowed myself to want before, a grown, responsible, kind man.

For a split second I thought, Would this be a healthy relationship?

The thought of being vulnerable, seen, rejected was once again too much for me. So I did what my nervous system did best — I sabotaged it before it could sabotage me.

The rest of the trip went exactly how you’d expect. And the relationship with “Mr. Healthy” — who, ironically, had the same name as my ex — came to a crumbling end.

But on the flight home, I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in the taxi.

For the first time, I couldn’t ignore my pattern anymore.

And for a split second, I saw something even more unsettling — I saw the version of myself I wanted to become reflected back at me.

The most redeeming quality about Mr. Healthy was simple, he had what I wanted, self-respect.

So in part, my journey toward becoming a better woman began thanks to him.

Life resumed soon after and me and my best friend headed down to Palm desert for the music festival. Laughing and singing songs she decided to say “Should we manifest Coachella boyfriends?” I laughed and said Duh.

To my amazement we did in fact manifest Coachella boyfriends, and to my horror he had the same name as my now ex and Mr. Healthy.

This was a joke? Right? Right.

Since I was still mourning the loss of Mr. Healthy I decided to indulge in a 6’7” Coachella Boyfriend.

The only problem? I really wasn’t that into his personality. The man had face and height on his side but he was lacking what I truly needed. I told myself it would be okay for now since we were at a loss. That is until…

I flew back home and found out he had totally cheated on his girlfriend with me.

Rack that on top of a “Hey girlie, you slept with my boyfriend and you’re a total sleazebag,” and you’ll definitely be questioning your life choices.

Mind you, the sex wasn’t even that good. And yes, I blame that on his height — for all the girlies out there who like tall boys, consider yourselves warned.

While I can joke about it, my mental health was taking a serious toll. I was sinking deeper into depression, numbing my feelings with alcohol and using these men as a means to escape myself. To top it off I was running from responsibility. I was so depressed, I was failing the final class I needed for college while going to a job I absolutely hated. And while you might’ve looked at my life and thought I was supported by people, it felt like I had absolutely no one.

It wasn’t their job to save me, no, but I really just needed a friend. I was just so genuinely sad.

I flew home from Coachella boyfriend’s city and after a series of highs I was beginning to feel the lows. It was becoming unbearable when I ran into…

Mr. Narcissist.

I know what you’re probably thinking: “Alex, another boy?? That is not going to fix you. And what happened to self-respect?”

I know. But this one felt different.

I met him at party, he was handsome, kind, and exactly what I needed. We hit it off instantly and he finally had a different name but my intuition knew better.

It had picked up on the subtle warning signs, except I was too numb to care. I kept telling myself it was just until I felt better and he wasn’t someone “serious.”

That is until I realized all my thoughts and fantasies kept circling back to him.

I felt myself longing for something more meaningful, I looked forward to seeing him, replaying the conversations of him calling me his girlfriend, joking about moving to the city for me.

But on top of all that and worst of all, he was the second person that showed me a glimpse of what true connection could feel like. Yet I knew something was wrong.

I finally pieced all the puzzle pieces together and realized what he was at his core and with that came the realization that he could never love me back.

The last day we hung out was one I remember all to well, the day I could no longer ignore those red flags. He was taking me home one morning and I was being playful.

I guess he decided he no longer found my playfulness cute and he snapped. A quick, sudden burst of anger.

It was in that short moment the entire illusion shattered. This man was unsafe for me. Although I had never experienced this type of anger, my body registered it as an attack and I could no longer ignore my intuition.

If this was the start of the beginning, I could only image the end.

These types of dynamics changed people. I had seen a close friend of mine lose herself and become a shell of a person for someone like this. I had seen the light drain from her eyes over the years, defending his behavior for scraps of acceptance.

I had seen this in my mother, my grandmother. Defending the very man that betrayed them. It ended the same way, every. single. time. Yet they crawled back, begging for more. I saw my future, it was bright and it was clear.

For the first time that summer, I decided my self-respect was greater than my feelings.

I couldn’t be the woman I so desperatly tried to escape all those years.

In that final act of choosing myself clarity had finally come. I took one good look in the mirror and realized something painfully true. If I wanted love, I had to become love. If I wanted respect, I had to put the bottle down, pick up the book and become the girl I always wanted to be.

No one was coming to save me and I had to save myself.

And that was the beginning of Life Lesson Number Two.