Questions, questions…

– Why did we actually break up? – he asked me between one bite of his burger and another.

We were discussing relationships, the good ones and the bad ones, and it just came up.

When we were together, we were definitely one of the good ones. A good team, hardly ever arguing, and when we were, we wouldn’t stay angry for long and it all went back to normal. We talked a lot, spent a lot of time together, but we trusted each other, so when one wanted to go out on their own, the other didn’t mind. Overall, it was good.

For a moment, I was confused by the question. So much so that I had to think about it for a moment. Why did we?

Well, after our first breakup, something’s changed. Mainly because I stopped worrying so much about what he thinks, which in turn meant I stopped toning down my looks and opinions for him. Needless to say, he was not too happy about it, and I was not ready to go back to how things were before. So we just kept on going, still a good team, still a happy(ish) couple, but somewhere deep inside, I knew it won’t work in the long run. He liked me more timid, I like myself the way I am now. Other matters aside, there was no way around this one.

I think there are people out there who can sacrifice much for the sake of a good relationship. People who don’t mind having a tiny bit less freedom, because it’s not a lot to pay for being with someone they love. There’s nothing wrong with that.

But I’m not wired like this. I think I’m a bit like the people described in this article. According to a recent survey, “if you shy away from hurt and drama, or have what psychologists call high “avoidance social goals” (i.e. you try at all costs to avoid conflict), then a single life is likely to bring more contentment.” And, as the author notices, life spent alone can be liberating.

There is something to it. I noticed that, ever since our breakup, I’m a bit more calm and less nervous. So I guess I made the right decision.

Miscalculated.

She hoped he’d change. Once they’re married, once they become parents. That he’ll stop knocking down pints at the pub with his mates, spending money on gadgets, play video games all day long, party hard. She hoped he’d become quiet, calm, a homebody. New man.

He hoped she’d never change. That marriage and kids won’t turn her into a miserable mother hen. That they’d still go out every not and again, to the pub, the cinema, to see friends. That she’ll still appreciate the little gifts he buys her, not necessities, but tiny luxuries, just for her. Same woman.

And now they look at each other with growing aversion, at each other’s throats pretty much all the time, slamming doors, breaking plates. Or they don’t talk at all. The silence is not a good sign.

They’ve both miscalculated.

Till death.

Valentine’s Day. People are either completely obsessed with it, or hate it from the very bottom of their hearts. I’m in the middle. Sure, some Valentine’s cards make me smile and I do like to give gifts, so I think every excuse to spoil your loved ones is good. On the other hand, I can’t understand why people are still willing to spend a small fortune for a mediocre meal in a restaurant full of gaudy pink heart-shaped balloons.

Oh well, to each their own.

Not sure if it’s because of the omnipresent love hearts, roses and other lovey-dovey malarkey, but this is the time of year when I often think about love. And I just had a thought recently.

Here goes: I do believe in love. That includes love till death, growing stronger every year, unyielding, unbroken. Yes, I think it is possible to meet someone who you’d want to live the rest of your life with.

But that’s not going to happen unless you love yourself first.

We, women, are exceptionally harsh on ourselves. We get angry at ourselves for the tiniest of things, we cringe when looking in the mirror (a bit too much here, too little there, a wrinkle, a grey hair), we tell ourselves that we can’t do it, we’re not worthy, not good enough, not pretty or clever or strong enough. We turn a blind eye to other people’s shortcomings, but we can’t do the same for ourselves. Convinced of our own worthlessness, we become more and more unhappy. Still, we wait for our knight in a shining armour who will look us in the eye and see how special we are and turn our life around.

But who would want to look into the eyes of someone who’s constantly miserable and gazing down?

I think people who like themselves are instantly more likeable. I’m still not there, I doubt myself every now and again, but I believe that sooner or later I will learn to love myself. And that when I do, it’s going to be love till death.

So, dear readers, before someone falls in love with you, try to fall in love with yourself! It might not instantly get you the kind of partner you want, but you’ll definitely be happier, and that’s not a bad result at all 🙂