When I Was Hard To Love

For the majority of the past four years, I haven’t been easy to love. Not because I wasn’t deserving of it, but because I had convinced myself that I wasn’t. I existed in a self induced isolation, the perfect setting to indulge in self loathing. I didn’t directly push people away, I simply made it more difficult for them to be around me. I had so little to offer them, by way of energy, time, and attention. I felt hopeless, faithless, and joy, well I could no longer recall such a feeling. It wasn’t a good place to be in.

On a daily basis I would struggle. It started with meeting up with people. I would make excuses for why I couldn’t make it, to only sit at home and watch movies like a zombie, accompanied only by anxiety. Soon enough my anxiety became so monstrous, that getting out of bed became my biggest challenge. I was immobile. I didn’t seek help, I hated doing that.

If others knew this about me, they would find it hard to believe. You’re the happiest person I know, they would say, and they’d be right. I’ve always been the happy one, I’ve always helped others see the silver lining. So, at first I found it difficult to seek help, but, I did, because I knew I had to.

Then there was this relationship, it was perfect, he was perfect. Yet, I didn’t believe him, I didn’t trust his love. How could he love me? The me, so often hopeless and broken, barely holding myself together. Yet he did, time and time again, the best of me and the worst, he loved me. I wanted to be perfect for him, and I was anything but. To him, I am grateful.

I’m still figuring it out, and I’m okay with the fact that I will always be doing so. What I know for sure, is that I am no longer in that place. There is now light in my darkness. Of course, I still have my battles, as we all do, but I now know how to fight them. With perspective, compassion, love and empathy, towards my Self. Because now I believe, that I am deserving.