A Birthday Present to Myself

As I told you, I’ve been staring at the “Add New Post” page since Sunday afternoon thanks to a massive case of writer’s block. Knowing what I want to write, but not knowing how to write it. Wanting to express my feelings and my observations, but being unable to put them eloquently in a way I can put out there for the whole world (or at least a handful of people) to read.

I didn’t struggle with whether to post the list of all my faults, but I’m struggling with this one. Which, actually, really lines up with a lot of the things I listed as my faults in that post.

Because this post…well, this post is about how awesome I am.

And I’m not saying that in a sarcastic, snarky, “oh I’m so funny, love me, Internetz!” kind of way. I’m saying it in a “This is what I’ve learned about myself recently, and I think I need to acknowledge it,” kind of way.

I’ve admitted a lot of things in this venue. I’ve admitted that I’m scared out of my mind of falling in love. I’ve admitted that I get jealous. I’ve admitted that I compare myself to others. I’ve admitted that I care what people think of me.

But there’s plenty that I haven’t admitted. Yet.

I haven’t admitted that I crave love. That I’m constantly wondering, “Is that him?” That I look at my friends who have guys flirt with them and think, “Why not me?” That I don’t like my girlfriends to meet the guys I’m interested in, because I’m convinced they will win the competition. That I feel like it is a freaking competition. That I never feel like I’m good enough. That I’m everyone’s second choice. That I am lonely.

That I want to be approached. That I’m tired of waiting. That just once, I want to be the one the guy comes up to after walking away from another girl. That I want the happily ever after, even if I’ve said before that I don’t think it exists. That I want him to catch my eye across the room and be unable to hide his smile. That I want him to introduce me to his friends and say, “This is the one I’ve been telling you about,” with a cheesy, goofy, only-in-the-movies-does-this-happen smile. That I want someone to fit me, to complement me, to embrace everything about me, to prevent me from losing myself just to make him happy (click that link and read my friend Jaclyn’s take on this).

Many of my friends know I am one who is subject to beer tears. (Or, in the case of my birthday party on Saturday night, jello shooter tears.) So on Saturday night, for some reason, this all came to a head. Suddenly, I wasn’t enjoying my birthday party anymore. I was moping. And when my roommate looked at me, she could tell. (She’s amazing that way.) She took me over to a [relatively] quiet corner of the bar and brought our friend Liana along.

I told them everything that was going through my head at that moment. Everything I’ve just written here. Everything I always wanted to tell someone, but didn’t have the guts to say out loud. And they swept in to save the day. They told me everything I am about to tell you. They told me that:

I am amazing. I am beautiful. I am talented. I am passionate. I am intelligent. I am funny. I am strong. I am caring. I am loyal. I am trustworthy. I am reliable. I am dedicated. I am inspiring. I am a great friend. I have a beautiful soul. I have a big heart. I have a lot of love to give. I am perfect just the way I am.

I deserve the best. I will get the best. I deserve someone who is going to appreciate my quirks. I deserve someone who is going to love my faults. I deserve someone with depth. I deserve someone who will treat me right. I deserve someone who will love everything about me. I deserve someone who will know how to make me happy without even trying.

The other guys aren’t worth my tears. They aren’t worth my love. They are there to show me what I don’t want.

And Kristin and Liana were right. As they told me all these things, I was nodding. I was saying “I know.” I’ve been told it all before. But for some reason, it has a little more meaning and seems a little more effective when it’s at a party in your honor, in a loud bar, being screamed over the music at you, with a look of passion, conviction, concern and love on the faces of two people with whom you feel a kindred connection.

I guess this is all part of my process of trying to see myself the way the people I love see me.

I’ve never been OK with saying these things to anyone before. But now, as a birthday present to myself, I think I’m ready to say them:

I am a phenomenal woman.
And I deserve the best there is.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/brunkfordbraun/268369035/

Happy birthday to me.

 

Kristin and Liana – Thank you for the best birthday present you could have given me. Your friendship, support, honesty and faith in me.