“But everyone has bad dates all the time. There’s no way that my first Tinder date is a success. Like how does that happen?” she asked me over Gchat on just another Thursday in the middle of work.
“Maybe you got lucky because you deserve it,” I said, so happy for my friend who finally took a chance and put herself out there. (And it’s working out so far. ♥)
“I dunno about all that.”
“Gotta believe in yourself,” I said before quoting the famous Perks quote. I told her to believe that she deserves good love, because she absolutely does. And then she asked me something that made me stop mid-type.
“Do you believe it for yourself?” she asked me.
And somehow, this question wasn’t as easy to answer. It’s always clear to see what others deserve, even if they can’t see it themselves. We think highly of our friends and love them so deeply for who they are that we believe they deserve the world and more, but what about ourselves? Don’t we deserve the very same?
But of course, it’s never that simple. We are not perfect. We get in over our heads. We misjudge people, body language, words, intentions. We are constantly rearranging and gluing the pieces back together. We fall for the boys with charming smiles, witty one-liners, mysterious eyes. The same ones who don’t call, who don’t ask questions, who don’t make promises.
As the cliche goes, you have to love yourself before you can love someone else. For the most part, I think that’s bullshit. It’s the easiest thing in the world to drown your flaws, your insecurities, your fears in the presence of someone who makes you feel alive. It’s so damn easy to place your energy on loving that person instead of facing yourself in the mirror every day and pledging to unconditionally love the person staring back at you.
But maybe it is only when you take the time to do this, to look in the mirror every single day with love in your eyes and heart, that you can allow yourself be loved by another in the way you deserve. You won’t waste time on the boys who don’t call, who don’t ask questions, who don’t make promises.
Because that’s settling.
So I decided to be honest with my friend. “Somewhat. A work in progress,” I replied, stuck in between my belief in the concept and reality.
“Aren’t we all?” she said.