Unloveable

In my last post, I briefly touched on my own personal battles with feeling like I do not possess the ability to be loved. After discussing the post with a friend, I thought I would expound upon that ... mainly because he mentioned that I wasn't the only one who felt that way.

That took me aback, actually - I really thought that shit was specific to my crazy ass. Knowing that readers could potentially see themselves in what I write, and that they could potentially comment below to say some things that would enlighten me ... that has egged me on all the more.

First, you need to know that I always felt misplaced as a kid. I never, ever really felt at home ... well, anywhere. When I was born, I left the hospital with my aunt and uncle after a three-month stint in an incubator. My mother wasn't exactly "motherly" and, quite frankly, she couldn't stand the sight of me ... so my aunt raised me until I was 9. That's when I finally moved in with my mom.

While I lived with my aunt and uncle - I never really had a room. I always shared a place to sleep with one of my cousins. And I mean shared a bed, not just shared a room. I didn't have my own bed. Until I was 9.

AFter I moved in with my mom, I always felt like a nuisance - my brother was always getting into trouble with gangs, and gang fights, and failing grades ... and I trudged along like a greased wheel ... tired of spinning but not really making any noise. So, while I had my own bed - I was still somewhat obscure.

So - that's the synopsis ... and from where stems this feeling within me that I cannot possibly be the object of someone's love. It was a battle for a really long time - when I myself fell in love when I was 21 ... I was scared as hell. Scared that he couldn't feel the same way I did ... because I was wanting him to feel that way about ME. I wanted him to love me - but I didn't think it was possible for love within him to be directed at me. I just struggled with it whenever he said I Love You - he said it first ... and it was weeks before I said it back.

"I know you love me, too," he said one day. "I'll wait until you're ready to say it."

(I threw that in there because it's one of the devices I use to talk myself through it when I feel unloveable ... I *saw* the love he had for me - it resided in him and I could SEE it when he looked at me and said that)

Feeling like no one can possibly love me? That has become a defense mechanism for me. It's comfortable, and like a security blanket, it's been with me for a long time. I KNOW that feeling - and knowing it makes me comfortable ... even if it sucks. And occasionally I find myself traveling down that path, feeling woe-is-me about love because I'm unloveable.

But a few things helped me get through it and those few things still help me snap out of it today:

1) I'm a grown ass man - what the fuck I look like trying to blame my mommy for my not having a partner? I'm thirty-fuckin-five .. my mommy? Seriously, at some point after 18, a man has to be a man, has to man up and has to take responsibility for his own shit. Still blame momma? No - that won't be me.

2) I fucking adore me! I really do - I happen to think I'm funny as hell, I think I'm relatively smart, I know I'm a good dad ... and all-in-all, I'm fucking great I think. I don't like pain and I don't like for things to hurt ... so why would I allow me to scar myself with giving in to feeling unloveable ... when *I* love me. As real as is my propensity to love myself is my ability to be loved. Right? My own love for me proves that I am able to be loved.

3) There's just too much other shit to think about. Work, kids, shopping, finances, cooking, cleaning, driving, mowing the lawn ... there's too much riding on my ability to function and I simply can NOT give in to a way of thinking that has long ago proven to spin me into depressive cycles. I hate depressive cycles - and I will not willingly choose to get into one.

Those are the top three - yes, I'm 35 and single ... but I have two kids who love me, own a home, a car and have a pretty decent balance in my 401(K) ... so, I haven't been successful in finding a partner yet ...

... but my being single does not a failure make me.

And I'm not looking for someone to complete me. My partner needs to complement me. I am whole already.