Even though we always had fun together and he was always a gentleman, many evenings we spent in each other's company ended in my crying in the cab on the way home, feeling totally inadequate, uncertain, and obsessed with the idea that I wasn't good enough. I tried not to let on, but I over-analyzed our every correspondence and felt sick to my stomach whenever I saw him talking to another girl. Not to mention, my last relationship had been such a mess, I was plotting to psychologically cripple the next man who screwed me over. How inviting.
But as time went on, his good intentions became more difficult to deny. He was honest, sweet, everyone loved him, and he always made me feel sexy and smart. Then, New Year's Eve rolled around. And we found ourselves celebrating alone together. We'd had plenty of other offers that evening, but we decided to share a bottle of wine in his living room instead. It was a meaningful step for a young romance. The Frisky: What His Body Type Says About Him
We sat on his couch and made confessions to each other, the stuff we needed a new partner to know. All of mine were about my body image and my past. I was worried he'd be turned off, but I had to come clean, or continue being eaten alive by my own madness.
So I said my piece. And when I looked up, I saw these bright, blue eyes staring back at me with unmistakable empathy. He wasn't judging me. He loved me. He saw in me a whole, unique person who made him happy. And it was in that moment that I decided to stop living in the past and get the hell over myself. It was like flipping a switch.
Four years later, we have a cozy home together, we're the dorky parents of two adorable cats and we have so many plans for the future. I'm not the picture-perfect girl I always assumed he'd end up marrying—but who needs that bitch?
I was wrong about him. I was also wrong to believe that anyone else can decide whether or not I'm worthy. Of course I am.
Written by Jen Curran for The Frisky.