I once dated a man who always seemed, it felt, to find me lacking.
Needless to say, the relationship not only fizzled, but it exploded spectacularly — in part because I was so caught up on everything I thought he was unhappy about, and he was so caught up in everything he was upset about because I was thinking all of these things. It was a cycle, and my pre-existing insecurities certainly didn’t help. I felt pressured to try to live up to insane standards — standards I bitterly fought because I didn’t think they were standards that applied to my life — and it doomed us.
Maybe I was projecting. Maybe they were all my fears — all my worries that I was inadequate, that I wasn’t enough, that I wasn’t pretty or funny or engaging or the right girl — and I was simply too hedged on the idea that the person…
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