This morning I relaxed by curling up in my recliner — steaming mug of coffee (well, actually, it was whipped cream with a little token coffee) in hand — to watch an old episode of one of my favorite TV dramas, The Good Wife. Two of the characters were huddled at a bar, but I lost interest in them when a woman at the end of that bar — obviously mid break-up — began sobbing. A part of my heart broke as she moaned: “What’s wrong with me?” For a moment I wanted to just hold her, comfort her…
…but it was fleeting. Fortunately, one of us came to my senses as I desperately wanted the technology to zap myself through the screen that separated us and slap the shit out of her!
What’s wrong with you?
Like so many others of us, you define yourself by what some man wants you to be — or what you think he wants you to be. Instead of being who you are — who you want to be — and you contort yourself to fit into his jigsaw puzzle. You suppress your thoughts, your opinions and your desires to immerse yourself in his. You abdicate self-ownership to be his property. You cease to exist as your own unique person and become just another of his appendages.
What is wrong with you is that you’ve convinced yourself there is something wrong with you.
Many years ago, one of my friends entered an “unbelievable” relationship. He was quite successful and a real hottie — one of those men who still had hair on his chest and balls in his shorts. I’d have jumped him myself. But she was a bit overweight; she felt dumpy and unattractive. She didn’t understand his interest. They’d dated for awhile and he’d never made any attempt to move the relationship forward. She assumed her weight was the stumbling block; maybe he wanted someone thinner and more ‘beautiful.’ So, she began dieting and exercising. Thirty pounds later she was healthier, more energetic — she was even more dynamic; she came out of her shell. She seemed happier. Then, as the pounds continued to disappear, so did his attentions. She became depressed and started eating her way back into his heart. Unfortunately, it worked. I often wonder what would have happened had she continued on that path that seemingly brought her to life. What if she’d continued being the person who made her happy? Would she have attracted someone who was into her — as her? Could she have been vibrant, happy, alive and celebrating herself and her good health with someone who could appreciate her exactly as she was?
Men, I can’t fault you for this one; you’re off the hook. I have to lay the blame squarely at our feet as women. Ladies, make your first priority — you. Be who you are. Be who you want to be. Don’t try to make yourself someone you’re not so you can make yourself ‘his.’
Trust me, it’s not worth it.