Since my sophomore year in high school, they've been my main concern. I thought that having self-esteem and actually liking who I was would come from knowing that someone could love me for who I was. Up until that point, I had always struck out when it came to the opposite sex.
That's probably why when I finally found someone who said he loved me for me, I believed it full-heartedly and never questioned our relationship. I guess I was just so desperate to have someone else believe in me, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. I needed that from someone, to show me that maybe I was worth something, and see what people liked and appreciated about me. Because of that, I was manipulated into doing things I shouldn't have, things that I wasn't ready for. But I got my self-esteem, if only for a little while. After he left, it disappeared, and I was worse than before.
He left his mark on me, and I went to find more self-esteem wherever I could. I did some things that, looking back now, I shouldn't have. But I was in a bad place at the end of my junior year of high school, and wanted someone to love me back, to prove my worth again. And he made me feel good about myself. The manipulator had a good thing going for him, and I wanted to prove that, since I was the innocent in the situation, I should have a happier, healthier relationship. But it didn't happen. My lack of self-esteem, combined with the manipulation, led me to rush into things with that relationship, and stay in it longer than was good for me.
I always ended up staying with someone longer than was good for me, or being with someone when I could, and should, do better. My low self-esteem was easily raised by these comments, and by those I dated. This came from my friends, who just wanted to see me happy. But I still got my self-esteem kick from boys. The ones I dated, the ones that wanted me but couldn't have me (based on a purely superficial fascination with my looks), the ones with whom I had a past. They carried me through the rest of high school, and through the summer.
The end of the summer brought about new changes. I was going to central Indiana, a place I hadn't been to for more than a few days since I was seven. I was leaving all I knew behind, four hours away. I was leaving the support network I had started to built up: the friends who told me I could do better, the boys I flirted with, and the one I was with. Heading to nothing I knew; heading to new opportunities; ending a chapter of the book and starting another.
And I started to grow. After being cheated on and taking him back because he believed that making out with someone under the pretext of a game wasn't cheating, I started to think. I knew I didn't deserve it. I had made four really good friends in the space of about a month, and they made me feel good about myself, just by being around me. I was in classes that made me think, and got attention from boys I had never seen before, and would never see again. So it got me to thinking about this boy, and why he cheated, denied it, and was still in love with an ex (who he made out with as part of the game). I couldn't come to a reason as to why I was still dealing with someone who claimed to love me when he was obviously still in love with her. I wasn't happy, any time I thought about him. I was agreeing with my friends when they poked fun at him. I started to avoid talking to him daily.
And I broke up with him. The first person I dumped. And you know what? I felt like I made the right decision. Things between us weren't working out, and I didn't want to deal with it anymore. Coming to college brought the self-esteem to me that I wasn't finding from him, or from myself. I didn't need him anymore. I didn't need to deal with his crap anymore, or anyone's for that matter. After that, I was alright being single. I liked it. I enjoyed it. I didn't want to be tied down anymore. Three months later, I was.
That wasn't anywhere in my plans. But this time, I wasn't with him because I needed the self-esteem. I was with him because I missed having a boy to kiss and cuddle with. It was a moment of weakness, when I needed physical contact. It worked out for a semester. Then I realized what I was doing. The summer, I regressed. I've always wanted his approval. Since the first time we were an "us," I valued his opinions of me over anyone else's. So his opinion that I was someone to be with mattered more than anyone else's to that point.
I knew it wouldn't work in the end, and when we left for school, we stopped talking about it. I banished it from my mind. I came to school knowing that I didn't need a boy to make me feel better about myself, and that I wasn't going to actively pursue anyone. I didn't, and got a boyfriend within the first week. It was how I imagined a relationship should go: we cared deeply for each other, and I could be myself around him. We could talk about whatever we wanted, and I wouldn't get embarrassed. It lasted until a few weeks ago, and I didn't realize how much my self-esteem had been wrapped up in him.
And then about 5 boys decided to hit on me, all at once. I'll admit, it boosted my self-esteem considerably. Especially from one. He was what I had always secretly admired: an intelligent, well-dressed, carefree jock. These were rare finds. Everyone seems so down, but he makes an effort to see through the clouds to the sun above. Absolutely adorable, someone I could go from a deep philosophical conversation to extremely innuendo-laden flirtations, and back to philosophy if we so desired. It started quick. It came at both a good and a bad time. I needed the attention so I wouldn't sink into a depression. I got attached too quickly.
As such, he's backed off. Now, I don't know if it's because I got attached, or because he realized he wasn't going to get lucky before the end of the semester. But I'm not upset about it. Annoyed, yes. Because I'm not just a one-night stand. I know I'm worth more than that. For four years now, my biggest concern has been about how I present myself to the opposite sex, and how much they can give me in return. I've been obsessed with finding Mr. Right Now, instead of Mr. Right. I've been obsessed trying to be the girl I think they want, not the woman I want to become.
But now I'm focusing on being the woman I want to be. Because if I don't love myself, who will? If I'm not the best I can be, then I don't deserve the man who's best for me. And he shouldn't have to wait for the woman who will eventually be the best for him.
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