I decided to stop writing again as my desire to retreat back into my solitude has been continuously growing. I often think that as I progress in my well-being, my insecurity trips me causing me to sit back and heal a bit before I can move forward. For example, last Sunday I had the unexpected “privilege” to break up with someone. It was one of the hardest things for me to do as I had never done it before. It has made me question myself and what I bring into relationships.

I often thought of myself as someone who could see the beauty in other people and therefore I would be attracted to all kinds of men. But this is the first time that, unfortunately, I was not attracted to a person I was seeing intimately. I questioned myself and I doubted my ability to love. I have yet to understand why I wasn’t attracted to Byron. He is such a good, warm, and loving person yet I felt no romantic connection. I tried and often told myself to stop and just realize that there was a good man in front of me. Why couldn’t I just forget my feelings and focus on his? Only one of us needs to be truly happy, right? I was constantly battling my wants versus my needs. Why is it that it wasn’t aligning properly? What was so wrong with me? And what was so wrong with him?

It scares me to know that I can smile and make another person feel good while feeling empty inside. And it wasn’t that I was empty, it was more like a bottomless pit of greed, promiscuity, and selfishness. At some point I realized that as much as this person wanted to give me, it would never be enough. He could give me everything that I ever dreamed off but I have nothing to offer other than a wounded heart and a useless uterus. Byron kept trying to get in while I pushed him away. It angered me. It made me feel uncomfortable knowing that men actually want to be around me even if I’m not good for them. Maybe Susan was right, I ruin good men for the rest of the women. Ahahah, what a lie! As much as I would like to believe that I have that power over the human race, I do not. At least not yet!

I can’t contribute to anyone’s happiness when I am still struggling to find my own. First of all, I don’t know what makes me happy. Secondly, I don’t want my happiness to lie with another human being. It’s too much pressure for them and ultimately my reliance on them would be too great. I know this because it’s something that I did with Kevin. I don’t want that lifestyle anymore and being in Kevin’s shoes was tough even if my experience was a brief one.

When I think of my happiness, it is so hard to have a clear manifestation of what that means for me. I know my happiness involves my blue, abused, slightly torn passport but full of fun-filled adventures in stamps. It’s something more than the average person could ever want or desire. How many people do we know that are willing to travel and sleep on an airplane? How many people want to be stuck next to a crying baby for a 16 hour ride? My happiness used to be the white picket fence with two children and me in a Sunday dress coming home from church. But even that was someone else’s happiness. It was never mine as I would never step into a church. And clearly it was shattered when I found out I couldn’t have kids. But I figured by making other people happy, I would find my happiness.

I started rescuing myself from my own demons and that is something I won’t compromise. My life has me as the heroine. I won’t sit back waiting for a boyfriend to rescue me (from myself) as much as they would like to.

I have taken the red-pill and won’t look back.