I’ve been feeling a little reflective lately. Probably has to do with the fact that this week marks one year since the Break Up. Once I was able to unfold myself from the fetal position I spent weeks sobbing in, I decided to spend 2008 doing all the crazy, single, twenty-something things I wasn’t able to do the six years prior. I even told my mom, “I promise I’m going to think of my career and grad school, but not until 2009. I’m dedicating 2008 to being a drunken, crazy mess.” (In similar conversations with friends I would replace the word crazy with slutty.) My mom was happy to have me out of an unhappy relationship and finally able to speak full sentences without breaking down into sobs so she fully supported my decision to be a hot mess in 2008.
I was pretty successful as being a mess this year, much of which has been or will be documented on this blog. I was also successful at other things. I now have a close knit group of friends, both new and old, who not only let me be myself, but help me celebrate it. I got my own large-by-NYC-standards apartment. I got promoted. I lost some weight. But, most importantly I’ve started to really find myself. From the moment I was finally able to stand up off the floor, I realized that I am one of the strongest people I know, even if my self esteem waivered at times and soul crushing depression seeped in through the cracks. I survived something that I thought would end me. Not only did I survive, I came out stronger. I actually used to wish that if The Ex died in a fiery plane crash, I was with him when it happened so I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of losing him. Me! I cannot believe I ever thought that way. Those feelings seem so distant and far away now.
But, like I said, I knew I was strong and everything was for the best, but there were many, many low moments throughout this year. Moments when I felt I was unworthy, ugly and unlovable. Even in my strongest, happiest times, I knew there was a black hole there and if I got to close to the edge I would fall in. And I fell in often. Whether it was not getting a call from a boy, helping a friend with their own break-up drama or even an emotional episode of Grey’s Anatomy, it seemed that whenever I thought I was doing ok, something would happen to make me regress. Until now…
A couple of weeks ago, I was doing something silly like dancing in the mirror as I got ready for bed and it hit me. I was finally, actually, over it. Not ok with it or dealing with it or temporarily happy about something else. I was finally at peace with The Break Up. I felt lighter, happier and friends noticed that I looked better. My heart used to skip a beat every single time I saw The Ex. Now, I smile when I see him. The week I realized I was over it I saw him four days in a row. On the third day I saw him, I just started laughing. It tickles me to see him now, like my own little inside joke. I still can’t be friends with him but that now has more to do with the fact that I just don’t think we have anything in common anymore and, frankly, he’s just not good enough to be my friend.
This leads me into the thought of other boys. I’ve f*cked around a bit this year and for the most part it was just good old, dirty fun. I dabbled in dating but quickly realized I had no desire to become part of an “us” again. The only boy I’ve really had any above-the-belt feelings for this year lives eight hours away and therefore was a safe person to have feelings for because I knew there was no chance of us becoming an “us”. Yesterday, I was analyzing the various reasons why I don’t like the most recent boy I’ve dabbled with. Just as I was settling on the fact that he “accidentally” roofied himself at a party, an even more glaringly obvious reason hit me – he’s just not good enough.
The idea of acknowledging that certain guys just aren’t good enough for me may not seem very revolutionary to you, but I know a lot of girls that should live their dating life this way. Over the past year, I’ve been so obsessed with whether or not so many guys liked me that I never really stopped to take a minute to think whether or not they were good enough for me. Yes, he might be a good kisser, but he’s dumber than a rock. Yes, he’s got a nice c*ck, but he’s 34, lives with 4 roommates and has no career prospects. Yes, he’s polite and thinks I’m gorgeous, but I’m not even really attracted to him. Now that I am more self-assured and aware of my value, I don’t plan on wasting time on these losers. If he’s not good enough for me, I’m not going to pursue it. And, I implore everyone out there to take a second and think about this next time you are giving some dude your number in a bar. Have dirty make out sessions with these boys on the street, but don’t let them any further into your life if they aren’t good enough.
Sure, I’m still going to hook up with boys because they are cute or because I am drunk. That’s just plain fun and, besides, a girl has needs. But, I am going to refocus the energy I previously would have wasted on trying to get them to like me, onto doing things that make me a better person so that I’m really truly ready for it when someone good enough finally does comes along. I’m also not in a rush to find this. The idea of having some mentally, physically and emotionally good enough for me is so delicious, I’m willing to wait.