This Time I’m Enough
I am blessed. Despite having gone through quite a lot in my life, I am still so blessed. I grew up always wanting to prove people wrong — even to my family. I always felt like I was on the losing end. Perhaps this was the reason why I had very low self-esteem.
I became a late bloomer. I guess I always will be. Although I am the eldest daughter, I never felt that my abilities were at par with my sister’s or my cousins’ or my friends’. I always thought that no matter what I did, it always just somehow came a little bit short compared to my sister’s, my cousins, my friends or even my colleagues. This source of insecurity became an evident hurdle in which I secretly had to overcome, especially as I began applying for jobs.
Notice when I say “secretly” because god-forbid I upset others (potential employers, coworkers, friends, family, etc, etc.) by coming across as a self-absorbed, conceited know-it-all. You see, when you’re a smart, young woman growing up in such a strong patriarchal community with too many double-standards, all the while going through the so-called “Independent Women” stage in a growing global society, I felt, it was imperative to know how to tiptoe in between the lines of outspoken confidence and quiet obedience. When you desperately know you’ve got what it takes to succeed yet lack direction, there sometimes isn’t really any option except to go where life takes you. Of course you work hard for your goals. But over time, right after you’ve done absolutely everything you can to achieve these goals, life then teaches you when to let go. So yes, I secretly had to revamp myself by myself; reading all the self-help books I could get my hands on, in order to try to understand who I really was, if only to save or improve whatever self-esteem I had in me.
Fortuitously enough for me and for everybody else, it seems I’ve turned-out alright. It took awhile for me to get here; to be comfortable in my own skin, to be fine with the mistakes I’ve made along the way and to be the courageous woman I now know I’ve had to become, despite the painful lessons that love, friendships and life have put me through.
I dealt with my past relationships the way I dealt with my family — with the same feeling of wanting to prove everybody wrong. I somehow always wanted to prove that I was the best bestfriend or girlfriend, because I figured, if I couldn’t be the best at home or in school, then by god, I might as well be the best in my other relationships. In retrospect, the goal was that if the relationship ever ended, the guy I was with, would eventually get to realize that I was irreplaceable and that he would always ask me back; Or the friend that I had such a connection with, should end up saying they never had a friend like me before. It just hit me how deluded and jaded I was, because that’s not how relationships are supposed to be. I now know why those relationships always came to an end. It’s because I always had one foot out the door; ready to point out why they weren’t right for me; ready to leave them before they left me behind. I was selfish, perhaps because there was always that need to be “somebody someday”. And don’t we all have that need? Even when we think we’ve “made it”, don’t we all still seem to cling to that “somebody” we ought to have become?
As I sit comfortably by our dining table, the feeling of relief came through me. The kind of relief that said, here you are just being you — no pressure, no pretenses and nothing to prove because it’s finally alright just to be — you.
Earlier, as he was watching his hockey team win (they were winning twice in a row now), I dozed off at the opposite end of our couch as he held my feet, all the while, busy cheering for his team. It was the most mundane yet touching moment. I’m finding that the closest, most reassuring moments we have are in the everyday activities we do together. Among all the relationships I’ve had, I am more myself with him: Not because he is the perfect partner for me (let’s face it — nobody is a ‘perfect’ partner), but because he is the most willing; most willing to learn, most willing to listen, most willing to try again and most willing to open-up even if it’s the hardest thing for him to do.
It’s ironic because I wasn’t expecting too much from us since we met online. I call myself a “progressive traditionalist”. Despite being open to new things, I still like tradition and the comfort of what “the usual” can bring. Even as I was trying out online dating, my subconscious was already pessimistic about its probabilities. I never really took what I read on his profile seriously. Yet somehow, here we are, still together for almost two years now.
Two years; that’s somewhat a young relationship — I know. But for the first time ever with anyone, I truly feel that we could stand the test of time.
Early on in our relationship, as we were still adjusting to living together, we had an argument-filled evening. He called me out on it. He simply said, “Our relationship is on shaky ground, because every single time we have an argument, you always walk-out on me. It makes me think that it’s so easy for you to leave me. I don’t want to feel like this every time we have a fight”. I asked, “What do you mean? Feel like what?!? Don’t you dare turn the tables on me again!” “Worried! I don’t want to drive home from work all the time, feeling worried and wondering if I’ll find you at home or just gone. I need to know that even when we have arguments like this, I’m still going to find you at home babe. I need to know that we’re still alright even when we fight.”
That’s when it hit me. He get’s scared too. For a man who says he has problems opening-up, I find that he really stands his ground when he needs to open-up. I always respect how willing he is to correct his mistakes. But this time, he was right. I was wrong — and I hate it when I’m wrong. This time though, admitting I was wrong came as a relief. He still needed me despite me being on the wrong. I wasn’t used to this. I am the proudest person I know. So, this was different to me. And anything that’s different to me is always difficult to process.
At that moment, it became crystal clear. I needed this person in my life. It was the night I decided to show him all my cards and the night I chose “us” instead of “me”. I’ve stopped testing him and I’ve stopped walking out when things got hard. He is all I need. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone anymore, because being myself with him is more than enough — good or bad, to him, I am enough.
