On Feeling Unwanted

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Something happened a bit ago that had me taking a week to write this.

There are moments when I notice myself pulling back, pulling away, without fully meaning to. Saying less. Asking less. Offering less. Not because I suddenly have nothing to give, but because I’m not sure where my presence actually fits.

Feeling unwanted doesn’t always show up as outright rejection. Sometimes it simply hits you that you’re doing most of the reaching. That if you paused (heck, or even stopped completely), things might go very still. It’s not dramatic; just a little heavy.

I tell myself not to read into it. Not to assume (and good grief, we all know how I easily and awfully I assume things). Not to personalize things that have nothing to do with me. But there’s a difference between overthinking and pattern recognition, and I’m learning the difference now.

What’s hard is wanting connection without wanting to ask for it. Wanting to feel chosen without having to explain why that matters. I don’t want to be a burden or a question mark or something that requires extra effort to understand.

So I adjust. I soften my expectations. I make myself smaller in places where I sense I might be too much. I pretend I don’t notice the imbalance. Even though I always do. I just don’t like this about myself. I shouldn’t have to make myself smaller just because this person can’t pull her head out of someone else’s rear.

I’ve been trying something new and scary. Instead of disappearing, I stay present with myself. I let the feeling exist without letting it rewrite my worth. I remind myself that silence doesn’t always mean absence, and distance doesn’t always mean dismissal. But I also remind myself that I’m allowed to want reciprocity.

Being unwanted in one space doesn’t make me unwanted in others. It’s just information, not a verdict. I need to stop forcing doors that only open halfway. I’m learning to pay attention to where things flow instead of where they stall.

Wanting to be wanted is not something I need to apologize for. I don’t need to disappear to protect myself. I don’t need to shrink to earn a place. If my presence only fits when I’m quieter, easier, or less real, then that space was never meant to hold me fully. I can step back without erasing myself, choose distance without self-blame, and trust that the places where I am wanted won’t require me to keep proving it.

The Upside-Down

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I don’t really know how to write this without feeling a little strange about it, but here goes.

My future ex-husband isn’t being an asshole anymore.

That sentence alone feels loaded. It’s not meant to be dramatic or mean or rewriting history. It’s just… true. Things feel different lately. The sharp edges have dulled. The tension that used to sit in the room like background noise has quieted down. Conversations don’t feel like landmines the way they once did.

I’m not saying everything is perfect. Because, OMG, things are far from perfect. I don’t trust “perfect” anyway. But there’s been effort. Consistency. A noticeable shift in how he speaks to me, how he listens, how he shows up. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice or didn’t care.

What’s complicated is how it makes me feel. Relief, sure. Gratitude too. But also confusion. Because when you’ve spent a long time bracing yourself for the fights and the yelling, it’s hard to just relax when the pressure lets up. Your body remembers. Fight or flight still kicks in. Your heart stays cautious even when your brain says, “Hey… this is… better?”

I find myself watching instead of reacting. Waiting to see if it sticks. Wondering what it means and what it doesn’t. Change is good, but history doesn’t disappear overnight. And I think it’s okay to think that things are both better and that I’m still processing all that came before.

I don’t want to minimize the growth, though. Growth matters. Effort matters. Accountability matters. And right now, I see those things more than I have in a long time. That deserves to be acknowledged.

I still feel like it’s “too little, too late”. So many bad things have happened and been said over these long years. I am so confused.

Merry Christmas Darling

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Greeting cards have all been sent
The Christmas rush is through
But I still have one wish to make
A special one for you
Merry Christmas, darling
We’re apart, that’s true

But I can dream and in my dreams
I’m Christmasing with you
Holidays are joyful
There’s always something new
But every day’s a holiday
When I’m near to you

The lights on my tree, I wish you could see
I wish it every day
Logs on the fire fill me with desire
To see you and to say

That I wish you Merry Christmas
Happy new year too
I’ve just one wish on this Christmas Eve
I wish I were with you

Logs on the fire fill me with desire
To see you and to say

That I wish you Merry Christmas
Happy new year too
I’ve just one wish on this Christmas Eve
I wish I were with you
I wish I were with you

Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas, darling

Saturday

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Some crazy fool agreed to work today. (That would be me.)

Working on a Saturday always feels a little wrong. Like wearing socks that don’t quite fit but deciding it’s not worth fixing. The world is quieter, my brain is louder, and everything feels slightly out of sync.

I’m technically working, but my mind keeps wandering. One minute I’m doing my job, the next I’m staring at nothing thinking about absolutely everything. I kinda think Saturdays have this way of feeling both heavier and lighter at the same time, in a weird limbo style way. (Cue the calypsos!)

There’s this tiny (like really small) bit of guilt too. Like I should be doing more here in the office because I’m already working. But also I feel like I should be doing the bare minimum because (duh) it’s Saturday. I exist in that middle space today. Half productive, half daydreaming, fully overthinking.

I keep thinking about random things. Conversations from years ago. Things I should have said. Things I probably shouldn’t have said. What I want next. What I’m scared of next. Whether I actually want quiet or if I just think I do. Y’all already know my brain likes to do this fun thing where it jumps topics like it’s allergic to staying in one lane.

Working on a Saturday seems to make me even more tired than a typical work day. Maybe it’s because my brain is freaking out thinking “You’re supposed to be resting, you silly goose!” I don’t know, it’s just a weird day.

So here I am. Working. Rambling. Thinking too much. Not thinking enough. Letting the day be whatever it wants to be. If Saturday wants to be a little chaotic, a little unstructured, a little all over the place, I guess I’ll be right there in it.

Quietly

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I don’t love you in a way that asks for proof.
I love you quietly.
My love is the kind that settles in
to stay and holds space for you gently.

I love you in the pauses.
In the space between messages.
In the understanding that some things
can be true
even when they’re complicated.

You didn’t arrive loudly.
You didn’t change my world overnight.
You just stepped into it
and somehow made it softer,
made me braver about who I already was.

With you, I don’t perform.
I don’t explain.
I don’t reach for words to convince.
I just am.

And that’s how I know
this love is real
because it doesn’t rush,
doesn’t demand,
doesn’t disappear when it isn’t fed every day.

It stays.
Like I do.

And Still You Found Me

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

You ever stop to think about how interesting it is when you meet these people who end up being very important to your life? Out of all the people in the world, all the lives running parallel to yours, all the strangers you pass every single day without a second glance, somehow, you met this one person who becomes an integral part of your life.

I could have chosen to do anything differently that day and my whole life would be so very different (and I don’t think in a good way). Just think, I made one small decision that changed the trajectory of the day. And here we are.

I don’t know how much of that is fate and how much is coincidence. I don’t know if things are meant to happen or if meaning is something we create after the fact. But I do know that some connections feel different. They feel improbable, how in the world did these two strangers just come together and fit. Like the universe looked at all the chaos and said, “These two. Right here.”

When I think about it too long, it can sometimes feel overwhelming. All this movement. All these people. All these moments that could have gone another way. And still, somehow, we met.

It’s hard not to see and treat these connections a little more gently. Some things I just don’t want to lose, and I’m still learning how to hold them gently without holding too tight. Hard not to pause and appreciate the sheer odds of it. Of all the places I could have went that day, that was the place you were. Of all the topics that were posted, you saw mine and were moved to respond. In a world this crowded, this loud, this constantly moving, finding each other at all feels like something worth celebrating.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started