Perché non sono mai abbastanza?
She always sits there, in silence, wrapped up in her thoughts. Thoughts of sadness… That sadness turns into anger, that anger turns into tears, finché non si addormenta per la stanchezza.
She knows how it goes, it always ends up the same way, she no longer needs to predict it, it’s already in front of her, laughing in her face, that sinking feeling in her stomach that’s all too familiar, a familiarity that haunts her, time and time again. That feeling of complete rejection, uncertainty and a loss of self-worth.
Si chiede, “Why am I never good enough?!”
She’s a positive woman, she loves to laugh, she’s caring, loving, playful. She’s thoughtful, fun and passionate. She knows her-self worth… But why can’t they see it? Why does she get left hurt, in pain and alone?
She has tried playing many different roles to fit the mold of someone else; she’s been the feisty, independent woman who so many men seek, she’s played it cool, she’s played it not so cool; she ends up being every single character that she is not.
Siate sempre voi stessi… But what happens when she does? Nothing… It all plays out the same way.
There’s only so many times you can put to the back of your mind that ‘it’s not you’ but what if it is? What if there is something wrong with her, something that others don’t really want to connect with? Is she not attractive enough? Does she not hold herself correctly? Do men only see ‘sex’ when they look at her and back off when they realize there is more to her than body parts? Why can’t she keep anyone locked in?
She is told, “There’s nothing wrong with you, there’s something wrong with them!” What is it with every guy she meets? Maybe it’s true, maybe she is attracting the wrong guys but how would she even know anymore? Reality and fantasy blur into one until she’s blindsided.
She takes a long look at herself in the mirror to try and analyze what she’s doing wrong. Why she is never good enough for someone. Why every time she tries to get close to someone she ends up in the same gut-wrenching situation as the many times before.
È talmente abituata a questa sensazione che è diventata insensibile; she has become so accustomed to being disappointed that she doesn’t even expect it anymore, she just knows. È avvilita.
Now, she tries to run from anyone who comes within a mile of her because she is afraid of being rejected all over again; she doesn’t want to sit in her room alone, crying because she’s never enough. She doesn’t want to sit looking at her phone, waiting for the inevitable to happen… She knows the drill… The call or text that never comes… Or the message to tell her what she’s been feeling all along. Il messaggio prepotente che non sarà mai abbastanza per nessuno.
This is a puzzle that she will never understand or conquer, this is something that is now built into her—sad but true.
How is she to trust? How is she to know when someone is being genuine with her? How is she to know that she is good enough for someone if all she’s ever seen, known and feared is the worst?
She gets told that they will call… The call never happens, the excuses come tenfold, the dates get canceled, the second, third and fourth chances are given and abused, the texts get fewer until communication stops altogether. The promises are never kept but buried deep in the ocean somewhere. How is she meant to work with that? How is she meant to feel after this? How is she meant to believe that she is enough?! She’s not to them.
She is drowning, she is confused, she is always the one to walk away because she panics when she senses what she feels is the inevitable—così se ne va prima che venga lasciata.
When she does walk away, they come running after her… It’s like they keep her on elastic. They suddenly want to know this intriguing woman after she’s turned her back on what’s hurting her. She is so desperate to see the good in people, she gives them more chances than they deserve. Then they let her down all over again. And you see… This isn’t a one-off occurrence; this, unfortunately, is her life now.
Every day she repeatedly asks why she isn’t good enough and every time she asks herself that, a piece of her cracks, until one day, she will be completely broken.
What each of these ‘men’ doesn’t realize is that the girl they have hurt so much, no matter how small it builds inside of her, there is no going back once she has lost trust, hope and respect for them. Once she has lost that, a little bit of her light dims until she picks herself back up again. This is a pattern she knows like the back of her hand.
Ogni pezzo di autostima che le hanno tolto non fa altro che rendere più difficile per l'uomo giusto abbattere i suoi muri. Lei non è fragile, ma forte, ma anche le donne forti possono finire per non reggersi in piedi.
Per lei ci sarà sempre qualcuno migliore di lei, perché non le è mai stato dimostrato il contrario. Sa cosa può offrire—and it is misused until there’s nothing left.
Per lei, questo trattamento è quello che dovrebbe aspettarsi da ogni ragazzo che lascia entrare nella sua vita, giusto?
She hasn’t lost herself, she has lost faith in finding a good man, a man who feels her, understands her, wants her. A man who truly will love her, protect her and be there for her. How long can she wait for the man who tells her, “You are enough”?!
She wants to be somebody’s, she doesn’t want to be a lone wolf anymore. She wants to belong to and grow with someone. She’s not asking for the world but just a piece of it.
She wants someone to dry her tears, not create them. She is not a toy, she is not an emotional punch bag. She’s a good girl, with a good heart. She deserves to be loved.
She who reads this, who has experienced the same as the girl writing this, will know this feeling all too well, just like she does. It’s overwhelming, exhausting, challenging and, most of all, disheartening.
Nessuno dovrebbe sentirsi solo, sentirsi un'opzione, essere fatto sentire indesiderato o mettere in dubbio chi è.
Maybe people like me are destined to be alone, maybe there will never come a day when I will be swept off my feet like the others. Maybe, just maybe, I have to be enough for me. I am fine with that—just don’t mess me up along the way.
I am ‘she’ and they are ‘them’; maybe one day my faith will be restored but until that day, il mio cuore rimane al sicuro sotto chiave, perché la solitudine è il luogo in cui sono più al sicuro.
Da
L'indesiderato
by Leya Hutton
