the hard to love me
This morning, Jakarta’s sky is as dull as usual. I hoped I wouldn’t develop any respiratory diseases
This morning, Jakarta’s sky is as dull as usual. I hoped I wouldn’t develop any respiratory diseases and that I would reach the office on time despite the traffic. While waiting for the bus, I scrolled through X like the morning newspaper.
A post on X caught my attention. It’s from Gladhys Elliona. (Here is the thread). That post affected me deeply as if it were calling out to me, reaching a specific void inside my heart.
In short, that post says that every time someone asks Gladhys why she had never been in a relationship, she would answer, “No one wants me.”
The responses she received were usually along the lines of, “Maybe you haven’t found the right person” or “Maybe the time isn’t right, there’ll be someone.”. However, she knows that right now, in this very moment, no one desires her. If someone did want her, they would make it known somehow.
Even if there were someone who desired her, that person might not truly want her for who she is. Some only sought her body, her mind, or her affection. They failed to see her as a complete person.
She said it would be nice to have someone at the top of her mind to take care of her and to ask things because they care for her too in a personal level. But right now, she and herself are enough. And that contentment is quite intimidating for some people.
That whole thread…resonated with me on a personal level.
That is exactly how I feel all this time. And to encounter someone who shares the same experience is kind of odd for me. Yes, it is relieving to know that I’m not the only human on earth who experiences that BUT, I also don’t want other people to feel what I feel. The feeling that Gladhys describes in her thread is awfully unpleasant.
Then, I thought, is it truly difficult for someone to love me as I am?
I recall my childhood. I remember being (and still am) the quiet kid who enjoys retreating to a corner of the room to read a book or comic. I am not particularly talkative, a fact my Mom can attest to. Many people have described me as unapproachable as if I have built a wall around myself to keep others out.
I’ve tried to change that and I’m tired. I don’t think I can change that. So what if I’m the quiet kid at the party who loves to observe my surroundings and drown in my own thoughts? Why is everyone always, AL-WAYS, telling me to speak more? Why don’t they just speak less?
Am I really hard to love?
When that question comes to my mind, I’d like to think about how I grew up. Maybe the absence of my father and the emotionally distant mother have shaped me into someone who is hard to love. For me, love is something foreign yet familiar at the same time.
These factors may also explain why I have made poor choices in my past relationship. Maybe that is why love is easy to understand theoretically, but challenging when it comes to the practical stuff.
I always have this longing feeling to be seen, but at the same time, I’m afraid to be seen by people. I want to take off this strong first-born daughter facade, but I’m worried that the time I show my vulnerabilities it’ll be a chance for someone to crush me (based on my past relationship, and of course, although it’s not that easy to crush me but still)
It’s like I’m in a passive-aggressive battle with myself — wanting something but afraid of all the negative possibilities once I have it. I understand it takes time to unlearn and untangle those feelings. Man, it’s a life-long battle, isn’t it?
Maybe the problem is indeed me. Maybe I really am hard to love. Maybe love is an expensive and grande thing for me.
