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It's Not Just Me For as long as I can remember, I thought there was something fundamentally and inherently wrong. I was broken. Crippling anxiety, fear of abandonment and rejection plagued my mind. Creeping its insidious tendrils into my psyche. Unrelenting, invasive and intrusive thoughts could derail me. I drove almost every man away because when I got entrenched in the anxiety, I unintentionally drove people away. Especially men I was interested in. Years of rejection eroded my confidence. I wanted to be loved. I didn't link the importance of being accepted with love. I wasn't asked out on dates in high school. My classmate's brother told me I intimidated the boys because I was so good at everything. My mask hiding my pain and insecurity worked too well. Friends and classmates had no idea what my reality was. I spent so much, too much time unsuccessfully trying to fix myself. There was so much anger I misdirected it towards my daughters, my second husband, mother, and my family. “He” loved me with all my mental health challenges, even when I was unreasonably angry. But, was I unreasonably angry? No, there was legitimate anger, the residual anger from over nurturing. Over nurturing really is a subliminal form of control. It never was malicious, it came from a place of deep love and caring. A place wanting to protect from hurt and pain. However, over nurturing is evident in helicopter parenting. It's a familiar concept. It can carry over into our adult relationships. Either as the over nurturer or the recipient. Just as children need the space to make mistakes, fall down and get back… so do adults. I needed to make mistakes, fall down, and get back up, with the support from the people I love and who love me. I didn't really get a chance to ask for help or a hand up. It was assumed I needed help or protection from myself. Thus, I was marginalized. Subliminally told I was incapable… It was silent condescension. It wasn't malicious, nor was it benign. I didn't see it during our marriage. It took years, even decades, for my fierce review. I wasn't aware my fierce review was incomplete. I recently had an enlightening and healing conversation with one of my best friends, co-worker, and confidant. She had a front row seat to the ebbs and flows in my life. She helped me put it all into perspective. Then a man came into my life. He texted and told me there's nothing wrong with me. It wasn't until he looked me in my eyes and said “it’s not you, it's them,” that the shift in my self appraisal was substantial. This didn't mean I was void of responsibility in my struggles. I owned plenty of my mistakes, and triumphs. My friend helped to figure out that final piece of ownership. I realize now, had I gotten into any of those other relationships “I drove away,” I would have settled. Settled for less than my true worth. Now, I know, I want to be accepted first, but, first I must fully accept myself. See myself as human, a flawed human, even unwell, with luggage instead of baggage. Before I can completely love myself, I must like and accept my flawed self. Like the real, authentic, genuine, and messy self. Only then, I can truly accept, like, and love another. How many times have you heard, “I love so and so, but I don't like them.” I know I unfairly said this way too many times. I dodged responsibility, seeing myself as a victim. But for God's sake, let me make my mistakes, learn, and grow from them. On my own timetable. When people respect me and trust me that I can… and I will show them and me that I can… I really am a woman who has so much to give and offer. My capacity to love and support others was present the entire time.

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