Pardon my French, but I’m a fucking delight.
Mike’s been doing a lot of little things recently to show me that he loves me, and as a result I’ve become less insecure in our marriage. Which is a good thing.
I’ve taken some time over the past few days to really think about the conversation I had with my therapist last week. It’s hard for me to believe, sometimes, but people actually want me in their lives. People call me on their way home from work to chat. I get texts throughout the day about random conversations that I’m having with various people.
I need to remember that I have value, and that other people see that value.
It’s hard for me to believe, really.
I’m very much a giver. I give myself to different things in different ways – friendships, support, time, energy, love, etc. I volunteer at my alma mater to help incoming freshmen make the transition. I volunteer at an animal rescue spending time with the cats, in many cases helping them learn how to trust humans. My friends know they can count on me for anything I can do for them. Mike knows that I would literally give him a kidney if he needed it. (Random side note – I actually was tested a few years ago to see if I was a match for a possible partial liver transplant for someone I had never met before, just because they were friends with someone that I was.) A friend needed help for her wedding and I jumped in to lend a hand. Another friend needed a place to stay – have our spare room. My family needs anything, I’m there.
I wonder if I do all of these things because I feel like I have to make myself valuable to people. I have to make them want me in their lives. Sometimes I need to step back and realize that just being me is enough.
When I was younger, I had a number of “friends” take advantage of all of these things. They bled me dry, and then they left me high and dry. I could never count on anyone. My family did the same thing many times over until I established firm boundaries. I learned not to trust anyone. I learned that my only value was what I could do for someone.
My mental illnesses only compounded these thoughts. If only you were good enough… If only you had more to give… No one loves you, no one will ever love you. These gorydamn thoughts. There’s a reason I have such a hard time with these negative thought patterns – they were reinforced for years by people I was supposed to be able to count on. People that used me for their own gains.
Maybe this is why I seek friendship moreso with men than I do women. Men are more straightforward. I know what to expect from them. To be fair, I tend to share interests with men more than women, but more with men I feel that there are no ulterior motives as long as people are honest.
I’ve got a lot of thoughts right now, I just need to figure out how they all fit together.