7.11.18 | discovering new insecurities at the age of nineteen
At this point in my life, I thought I had already discovered all of my insecurities. Especially considering the fact that most of them (if not, all) have been present for a majority of my adolescence and are now following me into adulthood, I assumed I had already been acquainted with all of them. Acne? Check. Crooked smile? Check. Various aspects of my body? Check, check, and check.
Only now have I recently realized that I have developed a new insecurity. Who would've thought that at the age of nineteen, I could suddenly become incredibly insecure about something I previously gave no consideration at all? Well, here we are...
When I entered college, one of the first questions I was asked by my roommate was the infamous and oh-so heavily dreaded, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I politely told her that I didn't, because, well, it was true at the time; I had broken up with my boyfriend after two short months together. I quickly realized that this question would be repeatedly asked and answered by others in a variety of different scenarios as we all began to get to know each other. And I also quickly realized that a vast majority of people had relationships, but more specifically, they had long-term relationships... something I never had in my romantic life.
Initially, I thought little to nothing of it, but in recent happenings in my life, I began to think about it more and more. And thus, the insecurity of never having a long-term relationship was born.
College acquainted me with people at various of points on the relationship spectrum. Some had never been kissed, others had never been in a relationship and exclusively slept around. And then there was me, a girl who had relationships, but short ones of only a few months. I was in a weird middle place. I began to question, for the first time in my new "adult" life, the legitimacy of the relationships I'd formed in my teenage years.
I've always been one to scoff at the idea that the length of a relationship is equivalent to the love felt for someone. I know myself that there have been instances where I've felt stronger for someone I've been seeing for a few weeks in comparison to someone I saw over the course of a couple months. Time isn't an absolute flawless measurement of feelings. But suddenly, the lack of longevity in my relationships has begun to eat away at me.
Most recently, while in a late night talk consoling a friend going through a breakup with his girlfriend of nearly two years, he started a sentence by saying, "You know, I don't know what your longest relationship was, but..." and that struck a chord with me because my longest relationship wasn't long at all. It certainly couldn't amount to what he was feeling after splitting with his girlfriend of almost two years, someone he spent every day with, someone he's gone on vacations with, someone he's had sleepovers with, someone he's gone on dates with, etc, etc. I've undoubtedly had incredibly strong feelings for partners in the past, but at that moment, I realized that I couldn't relate to what he was going through in the slightest. I had no experience, no expertise, no clue what a real, long relationship is because I hadn't done any of those things. Normally, I'm the go-to when it comes to breakups because Lord knows I've been through plenty. But I entered a newfound state of questioning the entire purpose of any of the relationships I embarked on. What was the point? Were those relationships even real? It dawned on me that I am nineteen goddamn years old and I've had lukewarm, mediocre relationships and honestly? I feel pathetic for it.
To be fair, I'm aware a year isn't necessarily "long" to most people, but for young people, in my opinion, it kinda is. I consider it long even more so due to the fact that my longest relationship was a total of eight months on and off... not even eight months straight. Sad, right? Following that relationship, every single other one was two months long. Why is two my magic number? Am I just doomed to a lifetime of two-month relationships? Am I only tolerable for two months? Is that just my expiration date?
While so many of my friends have invested time into year-long relationships, I now feel as if mine have been meaningless despite the deep-rooted feelings in each. What is wrong with me that inhibits my ability to maintain a relationship? Was it happening at the wrong time in my life? Were they the wrong person? The wrong everything? Or is my worst fear true, that maybe I'm really just that girl who can't hold down a relationship.
It's hard to be around friends in such long, committed relationships and being 100% unable to relate. I wish I could gush about having a girlfriend seriously meet my family, having them over for holidays, going on trips, and dates, and overall, feeling so solidly bound to someone for longer than a simple, disappointing two months. Not just friends conjure up this insecurity, honestly, simply seeing couples sprawled across social media is a gut-wrenching reminder to myself that none of my relationships are ever proudly posted because they never make it to that status. How do I deal with this new insecurity when it's everywhere?
I used to value every relationship I was in and attributed each of them to some type of worthwhile lesson. No matter how much the relationship absolutely fucking sucked, at least I learned something about myself and love and relationships, in general. Now, though, I question whether any of it has even mattered at all.
So what do I do with all of this, aside from writing about it? Do I bring it up in therapy? Do I just trust that a long-lasting relationship will find me at the right time in my life? Do I give up on love and relationships altogether?
I wish I had the answer.
Only now have I recently realized that I have developed a new insecurity. Who would've thought that at the age of nineteen, I could suddenly become incredibly insecure about something I previously gave no consideration at all? Well, here we are...
When I entered college, one of the first questions I was asked by my roommate was the infamous and oh-so heavily dreaded, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I politely told her that I didn't, because, well, it was true at the time; I had broken up with my boyfriend after two short months together. I quickly realized that this question would be repeatedly asked and answered by others in a variety of different scenarios as we all began to get to know each other. And I also quickly realized that a vast majority of people had relationships, but more specifically, they had long-term relationships... something I never had in my romantic life.
Initially, I thought little to nothing of it, but in recent happenings in my life, I began to think about it more and more. And thus, the insecurity of never having a long-term relationship was born.
College acquainted me with people at various of points on the relationship spectrum. Some had never been kissed, others had never been in a relationship and exclusively slept around. And then there was me, a girl who had relationships, but short ones of only a few months. I was in a weird middle place. I began to question, for the first time in my new "adult" life, the legitimacy of the relationships I'd formed in my teenage years.
I've always been one to scoff at the idea that the length of a relationship is equivalent to the love felt for someone. I know myself that there have been instances where I've felt stronger for someone I've been seeing for a few weeks in comparison to someone I saw over the course of a couple months. Time isn't an absolute flawless measurement of feelings. But suddenly, the lack of longevity in my relationships has begun to eat away at me.
Most recently, while in a late night talk consoling a friend going through a breakup with his girlfriend of nearly two years, he started a sentence by saying, "You know, I don't know what your longest relationship was, but..." and that struck a chord with me because my longest relationship wasn't long at all. It certainly couldn't amount to what he was feeling after splitting with his girlfriend of almost two years, someone he spent every day with, someone he's gone on vacations with, someone he's had sleepovers with, someone he's gone on dates with, etc, etc. I've undoubtedly had incredibly strong feelings for partners in the past, but at that moment, I realized that I couldn't relate to what he was going through in the slightest. I had no experience, no expertise, no clue what a real, long relationship is because I hadn't done any of those things. Normally, I'm the go-to when it comes to breakups because Lord knows I've been through plenty. But I entered a newfound state of questioning the entire purpose of any of the relationships I embarked on. What was the point? Were those relationships even real? It dawned on me that I am nineteen goddamn years old and I've had lukewarm, mediocre relationships and honestly? I feel pathetic for it.
To be fair, I'm aware a year isn't necessarily "long" to most people, but for young people, in my opinion, it kinda is. I consider it long even more so due to the fact that my longest relationship was a total of eight months on and off... not even eight months straight. Sad, right? Following that relationship, every single other one was two months long. Why is two my magic number? Am I just doomed to a lifetime of two-month relationships? Am I only tolerable for two months? Is that just my expiration date?
While so many of my friends have invested time into year-long relationships, I now feel as if mine have been meaningless despite the deep-rooted feelings in each. What is wrong with me that inhibits my ability to maintain a relationship? Was it happening at the wrong time in my life? Were they the wrong person? The wrong everything? Or is my worst fear true, that maybe I'm really just that girl who can't hold down a relationship.
It's hard to be around friends in such long, committed relationships and being 100% unable to relate. I wish I could gush about having a girlfriend seriously meet my family, having them over for holidays, going on trips, and dates, and overall, feeling so solidly bound to someone for longer than a simple, disappointing two months. Not just friends conjure up this insecurity, honestly, simply seeing couples sprawled across social media is a gut-wrenching reminder to myself that none of my relationships are ever proudly posted because they never make it to that status. How do I deal with this new insecurity when it's everywhere?
I used to value every relationship I was in and attributed each of them to some type of worthwhile lesson. No matter how much the relationship absolutely fucking sucked, at least I learned something about myself and love and relationships, in general. Now, though, I question whether any of it has even mattered at all.
So what do I do with all of this, aside from writing about it? Do I bring it up in therapy? Do I just trust that a long-lasting relationship will find me at the right time in my life? Do I give up on love and relationships altogether?
I wish I had the answer.
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