It Took Me 26 Years To Fall In Love

I found 21-year-old me lamenting over needing to pretend to be someone else to attract someone’s attention.

“I wish I looked perfect on the outside, so I could hide how I feel on the inside,” I wrote. “I shouldn’t have to change myself. I’m always trying to be someone or something I’m not.”

At 22, I wrote about how I wished I didn’t feel things so deeply, and how I was putting on a front around the guy I was seeing to make it seem like his apathy didn’t affect me.

“I just want him to make me a priority and not an option,” I wrote. “I pretend I don’t care, but I really do. I care about a lot of things very intensely, and sometimes it cuts me deep.”

Reading through the way I talked about myself broke my heart in a way that no man ever could.

I didn’t recognize this girl anymore who put so much worth in the way others perceived her because I realized I wasn’t that person anymore.

I wasn’t the girl who magnified her insecurities in the mirror or sat around waiting for someone to text me back when I knew they wouldn’t.

In more recent years, I wrote about becoming free from the tormented relationship I had with myself in early adulthood.

“I am so happy with myself,” my 24-year-old self wrote. “I am my biggest fan and my best friend. I feel like I am my own soulmate and no one can stop me.”

A 25-year-old-me celebrated the growing culture of female empowerment in our ever-changing society.

“I love that we now live in a time where women and self-love are celebrated,” I wrote just a year ago. “I could’ve really used a lot of this positivity growing up. I always dreamt of being confident one day. It took years to build, but I think I finally made it.”

And circling back to the present day, I can’t imagine ever doing what I did with Adam in the past.

At 21, I would’ve let my anxieties manifest until I eventually drove him away.

At 22, I would’ve stayed in a situation that I knew wouldn’t make me happy just to hold on to him.

At 23, I would’ve tried to change his mind and convince him that I was the woman he was looking for.

But at 26, I chose myself. I made the difficult decision and gave myself the love I couldn’t before.

Even though I miss him, underneath the lonely nights, I can still feel the sense of peace that I’ve fought for so long.

One of the last things I told Adam was that he made me feel like the woman I hope is reflected to the world — someone who is confident, secure, and good enough for anything and anyone.

But, it wasn’t until later that I realized that though he may have complimented my newfound sense of self, the strength of being enough came from within.

And that’s reflected in the last words I wrote in my journal.

“I keep telling myself I walked away from love, but deep down I don’t think I did,” I wrote. “I think I chose love — just for myself. But, goddamnit, it’s hard.”