You can’t be for everyone and you have to gracefully bow out when you know he isn’t for you. It sucks, but men deal with it a million times more than we do, so when it’s our turn, we just have to swallow our pride and accept the karmic payment. Rejection stings, but don’t elevate a horrible time by being pathetic.
Chin up, gorgeous.
You have to take stock of what you bring to the table, and check in with why it feels so awful to have a minor part, fail.
Personally? I’m fucking amazing. I don’t even need to slightly hesitate in owning that. I’ve worked my ass off (literally) to really enjoy my own company and have conquered some lifelong bullshit that makes me feel downright incredible. Here’s why (and this is really for me, not you… but I highly suggest you make your own list if you’re feeling awful too.
- I’m honest. Ask me anything. I spent too many years of my life worrying about what people thought of the answers. I have zero interest in being something or someone I’m not, so if you ask me, I’ll tell you.
- I’m faithful. 100%. I’ve cheated and been cheated on and I value myself too much to ever compromise my integrity or someone’s heart, ever again.
- I’m funny. Really funny with a glass of wine on board. I make things better, not worse. I have been through some horrible shit (much of it, self created) and have learned to laugh through the awful times. I’d rather focus on what makes me laugh, and it’s contagious.
- I’m nice. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too nice. I care about the person I am and the effect I have on the people around me. It’s important to me, even if it puts me at a huge disadvantage.
- I’m capable and crafty as fuck. In ways that may make a man feel inferior. I knit, sew, crochet, cross-stitch, make soap, bake, cook, can, garden, and paint. I can wire anything electrical, change oil, replace a dryer belt, put up a tent, replace the gasket on the refrigerator door, replace a hot water heater, rototill my acre garden, etc… I’d rather learn something new than ask for help.
- I own a home and acreage. I do it all by myself. I’m as proud of that as I should be.
- I’m on great terms with my ex and share my youngest, peacefully. He’s a kind and wonderful person and so am I. If you’ve ever been with someone on bad terms with their ex, you know just how valuable that is.
- I’m too damn sexy for my own good. I exploit the shit out of it, lol….#sorrynotsorry
- I’m the VP of an amazing company and have a successful career doing what makes me happy. I. Love. My. Job. I come home from work, happy. Not everyone can say that and it’s something I really treasure.
- I’m pretty. This one is hard to swallow because it is not entirely easy for me to feel. But I’ve run, starved and as of next week, surgically enhanced my physical body. Besides that, I have my Grandma’s naughty Irish green eyes, my Grandpa’s Cherokee cheekbones and an ass that simultaneously reflects my sexual frustration and love for pasta. It’s all working out. 🙂
So he doesn’t want me like I want him… oh well.
I think the beauty in knowing what you have to offer and bring to the table is that it reassures you when your ego rears its ugly head and you start to second guess yourself, instead of his ridiculously poor taste.
I’m a perfect peach, and it would be a crime for anything less than a peach loving man to enjoy me.