Mindless Ramblings of the Queer Kind

I made a decision last week that honestly tore me apart, and here in the aftermath, I have been forced not only to really sit with my own feelings in the silence, but also to look at my actions and patterns.

In my head, I am always the bad guy. Anything that goes wrong, that’s me. Even if I had barely anything to do with the situation, I think, yeah, that was probably because of that one thing that I did that one time. There are things that I hold myself accountable for that happened 20 years ago that I don’t even know if the other person involved even remembers anymore.

So where does that come from, this overactive sense of self-blame? Growing up, I don’t remember thinking, ” Oh, I got in trouble for this because I was actually wrong”. I remember thinking, “This is stupid, why am I getting in trouble for this, why is this such a big deal?” So, when did it start?

When I think about the first time I really felt like something was my fault, it is when my father gave up custody. I guess maybe there is something that happens to a person when they are being physically abused and told that they ruined everything. I remember being both relieved and sad that I would never see my dad again. Relieved because I wouldn’t be subjected to how horrible they treated me, and sad because there once was a time that my father loved me. Honestly, as I am typing, these things are filling my head. If my own father didn’t love me enough to choose, why would anyone else? If he couldn’t overlook the things that I didn’t do to fit into his version of the life that he wanted to live, why would a partner want to do that? If someone had to correct the things that I did every day because they didn’t fit, even though they told me they weren’t a big deal, wouldn’t it just be a matter of time before they also decided that I was not worth the trouble of not having that life that they pictured?

And that is how you drown a relationship, my friends. You let those things get into your head. You let yourself believe that they are true, and you ask for reassurance. When the reassurance isn’t what you think you needed and doesn’t soothe that deep in your soul burn, you convince yourself that you really are a problem. If this seemingly well-adjusted person says that these things don’t matter, why is my body reacting like I am 6 years old, sitting in the bathroom as my father pulls off his belt and tells me that he doesn’t want to do it, but I deserve it?

Somewhere inside of me, I know that what I did was look at a situation that was leaving me triggered, and I was struggling to regulate myself, and I decided that I needed to work on myself before I was able to handle it. I honestly feel like, while I kind of feel like I am dying on the inside, that the fear and romantic apathy that were set as a defense mechanism would have hurt them more long-term. In the other part of my brain, though, I am a monster. I came into this person’s life, this person who didn’t seem like they even wanted to love me in the first place, and I manipulated them, made them love me, and then ran away. I imagine that is what they think, at least, and I don’t think I trust myself enough to believe that what I experienced is actually the truth. Everyone I have ever had a bad end with has told me how what I was experiencing was not the truth, so why would this be the time that it is?

I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I want to figure out how not to hate myself on this level. I want to believe that there are things about me that people could actually love. That I am not annoying, disgusting, fat, boring, a waste of time… That someone could actually look at me and think, yeah, that is the person that I want to be with. I think maybe that will require me to enjoy my own company with blah. But I am going to put the work in. I don’t ever want to feel this way again. I don’t want to feel like I threw away potential because I was broken.

I think that the fact that I have been able to take a step and say, there is something about the last two relationships that I was in that didn’t feel right, and I need to figure myself out to know what that was, is a big step for me. I know that it came at the cost of a lot of hurt all around, but in a way, I feel like I chose myself, and that is a stone in the path of ending my people-pleasing tendencies.

I really am sorry to the people that I have hurt along the way. I do think about the impact that I have had, and I really, honestly am sorry that I was not able to communicate better what I was experiencing and owning my responsibility in that. I didn’t lie. I meant the things that I said, I just also didn’t realize how deep my shame and self-hatred sat inside of my soul, rotting me alive. I hope that the future brings you healing and happiness. You deserve that.

And to you who keep pushing me to challenge my thoughts, who speaks my language in the way that I need to hear it, sits with me when I feel like my world is ending and shows me that it might hurt but I can come out the other side; that I am not this broken, ununderstandable thing that does nothing but cause hurt and frustration. Thank you for being so patient with me, for holding my hand, validating my pain, and telling my demons to take a fucking seat. I will never be able to express how grateful I am. You are my lighthouse, and you give me hope that the shore is close by.