(note: There will not be any other thirteen letter words in this post.)
New relationships are the silliest clusterfuck of emotions and awkwardness that has ever existed.
So, in a new living situation, you're constantly learning new things about your partner - most that you love (hopefully!) and some that simply baffle you, such as his inexplicable love for those shoes with the toes in them. The things you don't love, you accept (or change, if the matter at hand is terrible taste in shoes... love you E!) and move on, growing closer and developing a tighter bond. Quick to forgive, slow to anger, and so on.
The hardest part, as I've been learning in the short time I've been here, is dealing with your own self-loathing without coming across as too neurotic or brain-damaged. It's easy to overlook how many things you've come to hate about yourself until you are living with this person who previously thought you were absolutelyperfectineveryway (riiiight?). Then all of this insecurity starts to bubble to the surface:
"Oh my god, I hate me feet. If he ever sees my feet in broad daylight he will run away forever while projectile vomiting."
"I SWEAT WHEN IT GETS HOT OUTSIDE! HE CAN NEVER FIND OUT."
"My right boob is way bigger than my left boob. I am a fucking freak show."
I'm making jokes here, but it's actually sort of alarmed me how much of the day I spend worrying about all of the things I hate about myself, and how they'll all join forces to drive away this guy that I love. I've lashed out at him, in pathetic attempts to hide my insecurity underneath anger about... anything really. Anything I can get my hands on. Where does that even come from inside of us? I know I'm not the only one. What in our lives causes us to believe that we are undeserving of a good and fulfilling love? That there's something so wrong with me that I couldn't possibly be in a successful relationship? Do we blame that on the media? On failed past relationships?
And how do we move on? How do you learn to love yourself as much as you love everyone else in your life? I don't know the answer to that just yet, so I guess this post is incomplete, and maybe a little depressing. Sorry about that. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, though, right?
To be continued... sort of, or probably not.
On a lighter note, passion fruit is my new favorite anything ever.