Thursday, March 6, 2014
An Open Letter: To Every Single Boy Who Ever Broke My Heart
Well, here we are.
Is it fair to lump all of you into one category? Probably not. Each one of you has been different-oh, so different. From the one among you who took my first kiss at the age of sixteen to the one who took my first kiss after my divorce. You've each been one of a kind-I have loved you differently and the same all in the same breath. And while I have learned something different from each one of you, it seems that I have been forced to re-learn the same lesson over and over again from you:
The lesson of no.
The lesson of not being "the one".
The lesson of not being "good enough" or "smart enough" or "patient enough" or "perfect enough" or "pretty enough".
Hard lessons to learn. Tough pills to swallow.
Each one making me long to crawl into my bed and just simply give up.
Do I know that I cannot place all of the blame on you? Yes.
Trust me, you won't find a martyr here. I know that I am far from perfect, and sometimes my many flaws and imperfections out shine the true beauty that is hidden beneath all this muck and mire. I know that I have had to take my fair share of the blame for the demise of each and every one of you, because relationships are two sided. A perfect balance of give and take. And so, with that said, I take my part of the blame. I always have.
And with each failed relationship I pick up on one more flaw. One more thing that apparently no one can stand about me. And I carry those flaws around cupped inside my hands shoving them out for inspection to every single boy I meet. Some of them harmless. Some of the serious contenders. Nevertheless, each one is given the chance to run before they have even had the chance to try.
I make sure they see my flaws first, and then they hear my story. And sometimes my story doesn't even come from my lips, but from the lips of those who are hell bent on holding me to a past that no longer defines me.
And with that, the vicious cycle continues. Over and over. Flaws, story, run.
Flaws. Story. Run.
Well, not anymore. Today, I am done.
Today, I disown the lies that I am not good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough.
Lies that each one of you has told me, even if that "isn't how you meant it". Lies that I have believed since I was sixteen years old. Lies that I have allowed to poison myself and every single relationship I have ever had.
Today the lies stop.
Because here's what you don't know:
I AM good enough. I AM smart enough. I AM pretty enough.
Yes. I'm a smart-ass, a fighter, and sometimes I say things I shouldn't. I am a little crazy, a whole lot of quirky, and I tend to be awkward-painfully so. I am loud, I can be be moody, and often times the first thing I will do if you try to get too close to me is run. And yes, I have a past-a dark one that tends to follow me around wherever I go.
But, you know what, some boy, somewhere, some day is going to see all of that and still choose me.
Because the right boy is going to know that those things-those flaws-don't define me. They are a very small part of a much bigger picture.
The right boy is going to see my heart-my good heart. My heart that loves the unlovable and sees the best in everyone. My heart that is strong enough to go to sleep with tears in my eyes, and wake up to give the world a smile. My heart that has been beaten, broken, used, and abused, but that is still beating. A heart that is still capable of loving someone even after the hurt it has been forced to endure.
The right boy will see my silliness, my quirky antics, and how awkward I can be, but he will know that those things are not nearly as important as the way my eyes light up when I smile, the way I love to dance around my kitchen with a glass of wine and a good country song, and the sound of my laugh when I find something really, truly funny. The right boy is going to hear my story, but to him, it won't matter as much as the way I sing to myself in the car or the faces I make as I talk to myself in the grocery store. The right boy is going to know when to be quiet and just hold me, and when I want to be left alone. The right boy won't be scared away by moods, or how fired up I can get about this or that. The right boy will be strong enough to stand by my side-to face down all the hate and gossip. The right boy will see me-just me-and think that I am beautiful, not for what's on the outside, but because they have taken the time to get to know the girl on the inside.
And in return, I will love the right boy so fiercely. Because when I love, I love hard, and regardless of popular opinion, I don't let go.
The right boy will earn my respect, have my loyalty, and know what it is to love the heart of a good woman. A woman who may seem hard and tough on the outside, but who is perfectly willing to be lead and cared for by the right pair of hands.
Am I perfect? Absolutely not.
But, the right boy will love everything about me: the good, the bad, the flaws, and the imperfections. He will walk through the fire with me, laugh in the middle of the night with me, and quiet all my demons and every single lie inside of me with just one look.
He's out there. I believe that with everything that I am.
And when I find him, all of you, the boys who broke my heart, will be worth it. So very worth it.
Because the woman that boy is getting as a result of all of you is a good one.
A really good one.
And I promise, you will be sorry that you ever let me go.