Depths of blue eyes, I breathed. Haven’t I been here before, I thought to myself. Yes, but not with this particular pair. Not like this. He was a roommate of an ex (ages ago) that I never really thought twice about. Married and grinding away at this thing called life in the state I left behind, he only crossed my mind when he crossed my Snapchat. Mr. Blade, we’ll call him, because he had the potential to cut right through me, was always the flirty type. He began with jovial jousting of words and smiles were exchanged, along with quick-witted responses. A common love of traveling was revealed and then a suggestion of visiting each other’s town: mine, a quiet beach town with a twang and his, a Hispanic city of significance with culture to match. “Yeah, you and your wife are welcome to crash on the futon,” I typed. “Oh Steph, we’ve been divorced for 2 years now,” he typed back. In a mischievous manner, I was relieved, but shared a response of empathy, to which he dispelled immediately. “Shit happens.” Not the sharing or feeling type… I have been here before. The walkway to his apartment was lit with string lights over artificial grass. He guided me through the countless gates of security and illuminated the elevator button for second floor from the top. His front door too was opened with an electric chip. Guiding me through his modern palace, I felt his cold eyes on my skin, as my eyes wandered the different rooms and patches of decor. As we drifted into the kitchen, he breathed something coy and as I fired back, he lifted me onto the granite island. “Time to address this tension,” he smirked. Completely unaware that there was enough tension to address, I cackled as he brushed my unruly bangs out of my emerald eyes. His lips pressed hard against mine and he gripped the back of my curly head. Hard-pressed to reject an invitation for adventure, I kissed back. The fingers to my left hand lightly massaged the back of his blonde hair, while my right hand clutched his bicep. Breathing heavily after several, several moments, he inquired of my appetite for something other than him. Chuckling, I put my freckled hand in his as we strolled alongside the river to a fabulous Mexican restaurant. The date was everything a date should be: great ambiance, warm company, and chivalry galore. From pulling out my chair upon arriving at our teal table and crimson chairs, to planning a drive-by-viewing of a plate I thought looked dreamy, to paying, he was a gentleman. He even entertained my request for photography reinforcements. Instead of exploring the city, as expected, he lead me back to his security-clearance apartment. It's as if we picked up where we left off on the granite counter top, but this setting was a bit more comfortable. While kissing on his Tempur-Pedic bed, he kept moving my "wispy" hair in-between nips at my fair neck. Uttering the words I loathe, I closed my eyes so he couldn't see them roll. "I want you so bad" ricocheted off the walls of my cranium. Again, again, again, I thought. But then his blue eyes broke my train of thought. His kissing slowed and his gaze lengthened. He looked at me-- really saw me and I sighed. I felt like we stayed in that moment. It was our moment and I was captivated. Almost paralyzed with lust, I almost buckled, like my knees would have if we were standing. He's everything. This is right. Maybe if I just..... but my self-discipline hijacked the whimsical soundtrack. You know how this ends; you have been here before with these blue-eyed beauties. I pulled away in more ways than one and partook in another form. After recovery, he caressed me and slept skin-to-skin. Sweating from the blue-eyed furnace against me, I smiled even in my absence of sleep. The next morning, he surprised me with kisses throughout the day between flashes of his baby blues. When the chance to venture into the city presented itself, he caressed me and were back into a spiral of seduction. Passionate, but patient, we kissed with intent. Tugging at my high-waisted shorts, I sheepishly revealed the presence of "mother nature." Displeased, he suggested a towel. I scoffed, "this is like our first time hanging out- hanging out." "We've known each other for years..." "Yeah, but even if I wasn't on my period, I still probably wouldn't." I knew that was possibly a declaration of war, but I was tired of being the casualty of every "connection" I misread for something more. Naturally, he played it cool and offered a shower option. I considered it, but again, the emotions taunted me. I couldn't afford to relinquish that kind of control when I was still rebuilding. I caught glimpse of those eyes and his smile coaxed continuation of kisses. They weren't soft, but steamy. They beckoned more as his body tensed beneath me. I complied as whispers of my name filled the air. I longed for that feeling, but swallowed it. We laid there staring at the ceiling as I hinted at his earlier proposal of the shower. "I could be up for that," he uttered, motionless. He laid there while my patience and ability to hold my tongue dissipated. My next hint was as subtle as Christmas lights in January, yet his only advancement was towards his phone. WOW. I laid there fuming. Thank God I was on my period. Thank God I didn't allow his blue eyes to cut right through me.... completely. Knowing this wasn't a trip to earn a boyfriend, it also wasn't a trip I thought I'd be in his bed. My naive heart read more of a friendly vibe that maybe would turn into a drunken make-out but not this. Not a selfish repeat of a previous encounter(s). I grabbed my phone to pacify my climbing rage. He made attempts at conversation while I offered a cold, freckled shoulder. Precise responses sprinkled with a pleasant front, were served to him luke-warm before inquiring about dinner plans. He suggested a burger place and a genuine smile returned to my face. As I rode shotgun like a dog in a country song, my restraint to hold my tongue disappeared. "You know, I thought you were different, but you turned out to be like everybody else. I'm so much more than a good lay... it's so exhausting." Yup. I actually told the man driving me around and sharing his bed with me that he was like everybody else. Like Gretchen Weiners, I had cracked. Practically speechless, Mr. Blade sputtered, "more than a good lay?" Laughing in my head that those words left my lips, I shrugged my shoulders and nodded with a smirk the size of the state of Texas. After what I'd been through in Pensacola, I vowed to no longer tolerate belittling and manipulation. If things aren't in my best interest, I'm probably going to take "two steps to the left and then take it back now y'all. Chacha real smooth..." Needless to say, the blue-eyed Mr. Blade bid his time. We made conversation like strangers at a bar while stuffing branded burgers into our mouths. When we returned to the near penthouse apartment, I voiced frustration with his failure to follow through with his suggestion for shower play, because at this point, I was in competition mode. This attempt again supported my claim that he was like everybody else. I felt like an unattended Halloween bowl of candy with a sign reading, "please take only two." EMPTY. Many of the guys I've talked to belong in the sea because they are Sel-fish. When you have to take care of yourself anyways, it makes even the brightest of blues seem dim. Sigh. So I bought myself a drink at a bar on the river, had a ball fighting Tropical Depression Imelda back to his gated, guarded, locked-down apartment... much like something else alluded to here... After ringing myself out, I offered to sleep on the couch and Mr. Blade declined. So, alas, another sleepless night with a blue-eyed furnace spooning me. This night, I knew I was nothing more than a space-holder. Although he probably thinks he's cutting me out of his life, I've been on a bit a purge lately so.... Like Bonquiqui, boy, "I will cutttttt you."Mr. Blade's dessert would be fudge, since that's his favorite verb. Melt a bag of chocolate chips, like you normally would with blazing blue eyes. Then drizzle condensed milk over the melted madness. Stir with uneven expectations and then make it cold, like you both are after it's all said and not "done."
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I thought I was being open-minded, but I was really being stupid. Purposely going for guys painfully out of my type did nothing but reinforce my type. Intellectuals are a must! I don't care if they have adventurous hobbies or tales of being deployed all over the green and blue globe. Attraction is a necessity I've been ignoring in the guys I've entertained dating. I don't mean entertained on day dreams while shooting whiskey at the bar, I mean guys I've actually poured effort into getting to know. I kept trying to push personality and be open-minded. It was if I was exploring creativity in seeking love in a town that feels rotten to me. But, then it hit me; I didn't know what I wanted. I was just picking up pebbles along the way to passing time. One pebble on a disk golf course, one at church, one at the cinema, one over cheese fries, and one in a pedicab. At the end of the day they all ended things with me. It left me dissatisfied either way. So I finally checked out of the app; like that book which under your bed, it was long overdue. Although I hope not to look back for at least a couple months or so, I still I had a few leads that exchange information with before deleting it.
Look. I can take a joke; my humor can twinkle with Disney princesses and then get grungy with a pinch of raunch in two blinks. Dark humor is sometimes my essence and other times (majority) I'm pun-tastic, but I'm hyper aware of my audience and strive not to offend anyone or cast a tone that would make the environment uncomfortable. I'm sure you're aware and could name a few of these misguided and misplaced jokesters. My two in this case are called Mr. Pull My and Mr. Middle Finger. No, neither of them looked close to this.....so they get no "hott pass."Before you read their messages, a little back story:
Mr. Pull My took something minuscule and blew it out of proportion and then blocked me!Mr. Middle Finger is from Texas.... dammit Stephanie! Can't you leave those Tejas boys alone?One of the selling points of moving to Pensacola was the dangerously close drive to New Orleans. It's exactly three hours. Myrtle Beach is only two from Charleston, so this would be cakewalk. Don't get excited. The story does not contain a cake recipe and you will see why. This boy does not in any shape or form take the cake. One of my cousins on my dad's side is a nurse, so needless to say, she associates with a bunch of nurses. The second night I was in town, they were begging her, at 3 minute intervals, 2 go out to one of the bars in Metairie. She was on the Westbank, which is approximately 30 minutes away and said if I was interested and going out, that we would go. Since essentially I was on vacation, I said, "why the hell not?!" At 1 a.m., we headed to the bar. Only in New Orleans. Things don't get lively until 2 anyway and the bars are hardly ever close. It's all owner's discretion. That's why I still, to this day, find it humorous that they call New York "the city that never sleeps" even though their bars usually close around 2 or 3. Besides the point. Along the way, we picked up my cousin's non-nurse friend who was also dress in yoga pants and an updo. We rolled up to the bar and met her belligerent male nurse friends. We did a brief intro; one of them, my cousin queued me in on being engaged, and the other had a reputation of being a man hoe. Just trying to enjoy the New Orleans nightlife on a Wednesday, I made my way to the bar, since my cousin decided she was just going to drive and not drink. My ass would have left my car and snatched an Uber but, hey- I was on vacation, so to each their own. I saw vacation lightly... I was just unemployed LOL same thing, right? "Hey! You can put it on my tab," the man hoe one yelled after me. After picking up a strawberry Abita, I returned to the group. Thanks, I said. He likely ignored me.... I suppose he could have not heard me, but anyone that's spoken with me or been in a room with me, knows my voice carries. No microphone needed. Engaging in conversation with another girl that joined the group who repping a Rangers t-shirt, I gushed about America's sport and tanked my beer. Returning to the bar, the man who is stationed up there, grabbing a handful of shots. Putting another strawberry Abita on his tab, I smiled at him and said thanks again for the drinks. His only response after telling me I had to take one of the shots was: "You wanna suck my dick." Yes. Because a male nurse bought me a drink, that equates to me wanting to suck that said nurse's dick. Insta-blowjob. He's a short-lived |
Dating critiques have much to say about Millennial and our shallow dating encounters. They could fill encyclopedias with impatience for "the real thing" and our playing the field instead of investing in one romantic find. They'll pile high our dependency on technology and our fear of being alone yet, are we the only ones that have engaged in a little dating around? |
Yes, you read that correctly. I saw the white ass of virtually my first boss ever while driving. I'm surprised that's not an offence: indecency while driving, distracting and reckless , moonlighting.... the ideas may never "end."
Needless to say, I was one of the lucky favorites. Everyone has one...and typically if you don't believe that, you're not necessarily the favorite. ... just saying from cold experience. Well, another one of the favorites also happens to be a character you've been introduced to in the "Best Friend Nano Series." Tiffany was another favorite at our first job, where we met 14 years ago. I think I have a tear in my eye.
Aside from receiving a biweekly paycheck at a whopping $5.25 an hour, Tiffany and I being practically adopted into our boss' family. Another thing, less scaring, but just as impressionable than the mooning, was her dating history she shared briefly with us.
I remember it like it was yesterday....
God help me if that was true! I don't know what I wore, how many people I called on the phone, or if I had breakfast yesterday. #68yearoldina28yearoldsbody
She said, "Before I met my husband, [bobo hobo], I used to go out with ALLLL KINDSSSS OF BOYS. I would kiss 'em and then dump 'em. People at school started calling me the dump truck."
I actually haven't thought of that story until now, because I was reflecting on my endless lists of dates and flavors of the week that have come and gone last night in the shower. That's where I get a lot of my thinking and American Idol singing done-- the acoustics are quite suitable for my vocal cords-- and the lighting and free fog with no machine needed.
I remembered that a sweet, silly, successful woman was in a similar position I am in her 20's and sometimes, that's okay. Not that I needed reassurance because anyone that knows me, knows I do what I want BUT, it was kind of nice reminisce about a woman whom I forgot affected my life at 16 and have her affect my life again at 28.
It's easy to let the past be overshadowed by the future, especially if you have big plans (which I pray you do). But, I think the past is upmost significant because it built and bridged you to "here." And "here" is always temporary, so I want to savor it. I must remember to, as should you.
Here and now, I can relate to my boss, the mooner and the artist formerly known as pr-- I mean, "dump truck." My next here, I may be relating to my successful, licensed best friend back home whom saves children every day or even my grandmother whom always believed "someone had it worse" and refused to let complaints taint her little peach lips.
Here in singleness, I'll continue to cultivate sweetness- Dig. In.
Dirt Dessert is the most grounding sweet finish
for any "dump truck"
Sometimes your suitor is crazy and all together villainous, pudding. Grab yourself a box of Oreo or chocolate instant pudding. You'll need cold milk to follow the directions like a good psycho.
Like love's layers, this dessert is arranged as such: pudding, oreos, then worms. Hope you dig it.
Just when I thought I figured things out with him,
is when things took a turn off a cliff.
Our journey seemed endless due to our mutual addiction to travel. I dreamed aloud of moving closer to family in Cajun country, while he dreamed of adopting islander life in Maui. We swapped resumes, job postings, interview tales as our efforts climbed towards reality. Regardless of the plans in pencil, we agreed we would keep in touch: care boxes, letters, abroad visits, and virtual pecks. Haha.
He loved that I write. He would always give me a hard time about being fashionably late to EVERYTHING. Even when I warned him, even when he was outside my apartment, even when he waiting impatiently on my couch while I hopped out the shower to begin my beauty regiment (only an eighth of the average female: scrunched hair, don't care). His intolerance isn't to tardiness, but to flakiness and breaking plans. He sees it as "blowing off" and will bring it up in almost predictable frequencies (every 15 minutes until the date's end).
I discovered this intolerance first hand, one day I called out stale for one of our dates. Unable to smile, with no desire to smell the roses or anything with an aroma of any kind (pleasant or pitiful), I laid on my bathroom floor. Almost unable to reach my phone, my golden rule complex practically dialed his number for me. In a monotone voice even I didn't recognize, I alerted him of my cancellation. He didn't conceal that he didn't understand. I told him I couldn't talk about it and tossed the phone on the plush bath rug. Feeling helpless and utterly hopeless, I laid there the duration of the night.
Depressive spells are common among: your comedians, life coaches, leaders appearing to be built of endurance and steel, and perkiest of those you've encountered, outside of animation. It doesn't mean the person is clinically depressed, nor does it mean they are not. It doesn't mean they're broken or "at risk," nor does it mean they feel as much fulfillment as they reflect.
My best friend is a counselor and I don't even talk about it with her... I just let it run its course and carry on with my life. My fear is if I disclose it to anyone, they won't understand and will offer words that seem to fit but make no impact on the issue. Foreshadowing: this is reinforced by Mr. Hard to Read's reaction the SECOND time.
Halloween was the second time this kind of happiness leech found me. Giving him as much notice as I possibly could, I texted him while still at work, forecasting the fall foil of frowns. Again, he didn't understand and reassured me it would be better tonight.
After forcing myself to engage in hot yoga, dripping with sweat, depression wasn't released like I had hoped. I sent notice to him and managed to make it home in a sweaty fog. I returned to my position on my bathroom floor, almost as if I aligned my body within the chalk lines of a crime scene. His text messages rolled in as I lay my part (because there was no room for play).
I reached out to him later that week and we agreed on a Saturday night date. We found ourselves at a miniature restaurant that couldn't have housed more than 12 tables, including 2-tops. The waiter found us a seat in the corner, practically pressed against the window and I took the padded bench side.
After a bit of peer pressure (didn't take much), I found a stout in my hands, and followed him up 3 1/2 flights of stairs. Succumbed to dizziness, I found the only pair of seats were under a heating lamp. To avoid from melting like the wicked witch of the west, I suggested we go downstairs. Looking back, I recall a little bit of reluctance, but my temperature and overwhelming battle with gravity clouded my recognition of such a display of annoyance. After the keyboard and drum duo played Tom Petty and Queen, back to back, I felt a little color return to my face.
He said he wasn't very hungry but guessed we could find a place near our destination with live music. That's when we stumbled upon "Chubby Fish." Side note, I highly recommend the fried blow fish. I know what you're thinking, but that was quite possibly the best fried thing I've ever put in my mouth... and I'm from Texas so, at the fair, I've had unimaginable things fried.
Mr. Hard to Read's patience was also fried, served with an apathetic dipping sauce.
Agitated, he blurted, "So what was up with blowing me off on Halloween? You went to yoga."
A little taken aback, I sputtered, "I mean... I was depressed." Looking down, I felt shame wash over me. Instantly felt insecure and an inconvenience.
"Yeah, but I canceled plans with my friends." I said nothing, feeling feeble.
"I bought a $60 costume."
Money perked me up. I loathe the stuff; it turns the most seemingly noble prince into a toad, predestined for roadkill. Lifting my eyes as if they were 20 lb dumbbells, I said, "Are you— I'm ss-sorry."
"So, why did you do it?" His persistence was piercing to my ears, even though his tone of voice didn't much fluctuate.
"Mr. Hard to Read, I wouldn't have been any fun. I was on my bathroom floor the duration of the night. I had a costume too—"
"My costume was wasted. All my friends were already doing something."
In slight disbelief, while also fighting the shame tensing my bare shoulders, I looked out the window. Muttering, because I knew I didn't owe him anymore explanation, "I've canceled on you one other time and it was for the same reason. I can't control it. I didn't choose this..."
Abruptly, he changed the topic. Apparently, he didn't like my responses to that either, because after the check, he got up and like a rag-doll, curls of yarn pressed against my face that I didn't bother to readjust; I followed moping.
"I'm not feeling well so, if you need, I guess I can bring you to your car."
"No, I'll walk."
"Okay, see ya," as he got into his car and started the Mustang that we had ridden so many times with rock tracks and trap tracks and laughter. Before I could even cross the street, he sped off out of my life.
The flood gates opened when I surveyed approximately 65 individuals from age 17 to 42. Their backgrounds are as colorful as Picasso's palate and their hearts, even more vibrant. Only 45 chose to participate and of the 20 that did not, only one indicated they would not be participating.
Those that took the risk, deviled into their deepest scars, created by insults, disappointment, discrimination, hate, abuse, and disgust. The list of culprits is endless, yet most every participant absorbed the blame. The people they trusted, including themselves, took advantage in the worst way.
The most overwhelming negative trend, easily identifiable in the responses, were those that have been accepted into your inner circle, tangled in your heart strings, or branded with your seal of genuine approval. They have earned a level of power that they seemed to manipulate and abuse .
Seemingly bleak, each and every one of them (you) encompassed something beautiful, something bold, to rebuild your self-worth. And if you have never said it out-loud, now you've made a statement; you've spread encouragement as far as this blog will reach. You did that. That's something to smile about.
Okay... so that may not be the EXACT words Shakira sang, but we are worth building back up. Our self-worth is vulnerable to tarnishing, crushing, and sometimes the extreme of obliterating, but there are at least 24 (found above).
The cheesiest way to conclude this series (sorry, fresh out of gouda and mozz) is lyrics to a Jason Mraz song.
May you have auspiciousness and causes of success
May you have the confidence to always do your best
May you take no effort in your being generous
Sharing what you can, nothing more nothing less
May you know the meaning of the word happiness
May you always lead from the beating in your chest
May you be treated like an esteemed guest
May you get to rest, may you catch your breath
And may the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows
And may the road less paved be the road that you follow
Well here's to the hearts that you're gonna break
Here's to the lives that you're gonna change
Here's to the infinite possible ways to love you I want you to have it
Here's to the good times we're gonna have
You don’t need money, you got a free pass
Here's to the fact that I'll be sad without you
I want you to have it all Oh!
I want you to have it all
I want you to have it
I want you to have it all
May you be as fascinating as a slap bracelet
May you keep the chaos and the clutter off your desk
May you have unquestionable health and less stress
Having no possessions though immeasurable wealth
May you get a gold star on your next test
May your educated guesses always be correct
And may you win prizes shining like diamonds
May you really own it each moment to the next
And may the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows
And may the road less paved be the road that you follow
Well here's to the hearts that you're gonna break
Here's to the lives that you're gonna change
Here's to the infinite possible ways to love you
I want you to have it
Here's to the good times we're gonna have
You don’t need money, you got a free pass
Here's to the fact that I'll be sad without you
I want you to have it all
Oh, I want you to have it all
I want you to have it
I want you to have it all
Oh, I want you to have it all
All you can imagine
All, no matter what your path is
If you believe it then anything can happen
Go, go, go raise your glasses
Go, go, go you can have it all I toast you
-Jason Mraz
Not cheesy enough?
You're as rare as a rainbow
To continue with the worth theme, I took a survey of 45 people with the prompt: What has had the greatest effect on your self-worth? Both negative and positive.
I think the best was probably work in general. No one moment or anything, just being viewed as an adult who knows what they’re doing and to actually be able to do big things
Probably the same on the negative, no one moment, but in general I would say my mom. Directly and indirectly she was responsible for a ton of negative thing. But thanks to my dad, most of the negative has been turned to positive/maturing
I've always been a bigger guy which isn't usually favored in the gay community but I've always thought highly of since high school. I'm not for everyone and that's fine....I think I'm sexy extra pounds and all. My sense of humor on point although not everyone gets it. There have been times i used to think if i lost weight i could catch all the men but tha
But those were fleeting thoughts. It then became "fuck anyone who cant get with me the way I am". Shit I'm fabulous
I feel My self worth increases every time I am able to help someone with something major in their life or meet a goal that is important to them. The only thing that impacts my self worth negatively is my own mentality towards myself
Negative: relationships and the when the cowboys suck positive: my English bulldog and baby boy
Negative-past relationships positive family members and hope that everything will be fine in the end
Negative: not being heard/listened to/taken seriously by people I'm close with has a lot of impact on me
Positive: feeling like I'm worth more than my body,,,,? A lot of people seem to only care about my dumb physical form, so when I'm treated as important whether I'm having a good hair day or a bad bout of acne that just makes me feel so good and important !!!
Losing all my phone contacts and having no one I spoke to regularly try and contact me in over three weeks was a pretty big hit to my self esteem
Being continually recommended for projects and promotions at work is a pretty big boost to that part of my self esteem
Relationships intimately and friendships can hinder and boost worth.
The negative weighs me down. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been lifted by someone
Mine are what others think of me
Probably my high school friends and teachers positive wise
I would love to help out! I have been affected by my family growing up the most and has made me question my worth. My mom was a narcissist and overcontrolling tiger mom did not instill confidence in me..
relationships probably - meaning all: family, friends, people i’m involved with.
Interesting. Self worth for everyone comes from what they assign to it. For me it progress. Whether it be in my career, studies or in the gym. As long as I am moving forward everything is all good. Conversely, I do not derive my opinions on self worth from others. Be it comparison to their progress or comments made. For we are all on our own journey. Always forward, never back.
Relationships whether romantic or not is root of someone’s self worth. How they’re bf treated them, how their parents treated them, how they’re friends abandoned them over years, the pressure a parent puts on themselves bc they don’t think they’re dosing enough. The professional relationship that a person has with the community. The relationship a person even has with themselves All forms of relationships are the root of some someone’s self’s worth
The biggest contributor to my self worth has been finally trusting/listening to my gut/intuition!
I suppose relarionships, not exclusicely romantic.
I would say co workers in general play a huge role in self worth. A lot of co workers especially if they're older can really talk down to you and make you feel worthless to try and break you down for various reasons, one could be they're jealous or they're scared that you could come for their position in the future
Negative, would be from a family member, specifically my brother. Years of being put down. Positive.. is a little trickier. While I do like reassurance often, especially in relationships. I think I am really what brought myself up in the self worth department. But it fluctuates
Also I think where I work now had a pretty big impact on me as well And it was the first time I wasn’t in charge if you will. So I know it was genuine.
Definitely failure (in general) and learning from it
Relationships are both for me. From my perspective any situation you go through is kind of filtered through your support system (friends, family, etc.). Those interactions in your times of excitement or disappointment are what affect your self worth most. Then there are the strangers. In some cases, completely faceless and/or nameless, strangers can have a very small influence on a person's self worth or monumental effect. This is determined by the person being recieving the words, criticisms or whatever it may be from said people. Hope that makes sense. That's just how my mind works. Won't go as far as to say this is true for everyone.
My self worth goes down when like I know my family’s disappointed in me about something or when I’ve been drinking too much I start to get depressed and think I’m a shitty person. Or like when I don’t have a man in my life I’ll start to feel like what’s wrong with me
my self worth feels greater when guys like me lol like when I’m getting praised by a man or being complimented or just when I’m doing good for myself and have everything in order I’m like oh man I’m the best there is haha
Judgement on myself. Wanting to better myself, therefore judging myself.
I think my long time boyfriend breaking up with me has really forced me to know myself for who I really am and has made me value myself much more. I think being single for a while after being in a relationship for so long had made me realize what I want and what I don’t want in a relationship. I think my long time boyfriend breaking up with me has really forced me to know myself for who I really am and has made me value myself much more. I think being single for a while after being in a relationship for so long had made me realize what I want and what I don’t want in a relationship.
I would say negative would be judgement passed by people you love and positive relationships!
No clue. I earned my worth
I would have to say the way other people see me. Being a “fat kid” getting bullied was negative but the positive was it made me want to change and I did. It sucks seeing the way you are treated when you’re the da
Boosting it, I've had moments where the same thing that boosted it killed it. There was a time when I used to have a thing for sleeping with married women, (or relationships) and just knowing that I could "fuck your bitch" gave me a little self esteem and ego boost. Then later on in life after I got cheated on, it kinda made me feel like shit. But I guess the biggest self esteem killer, is myself. I lay alone often times at night thinking about lots of little things that happened to me over my life and wonder why they happened to me and why the people did that to me. And it makes me wonder if I'm even worth a damn. Maybe I'd be better off dead, or at least worth more to everyone. And as far as a self esteem booster, well... my work ethic. I haven't been more than 30 days without work since I was 13 years old. I know I'm a hell of a provider and a fucking machine.
Not only do I maintain jobs, I have hard, physically strenuous and rigorous jobs that break a lot of people, and I excel in them. I love labor, I get a kick out of someone saying "you wont be able to do that alone, itll take you forever" and then I get it done in a day lol. I love it.
Boss tells me 9 years is not enough experience and believes in young
“Greatest effect on me, is realizing my roll on earth, could be the totality of effects greatest.
positive earning money by myself and watching Roger Federer, finishing college, negative I don't know, not geting enough attention from boss for my hard work these are some examples at least
Most negative was my grandma when I was a teenager. She always had something negative to say about me both personality wise and physically.
For sure, to be honest people you work around Is like a relationship. When things are great that special someone can make you feel on top of the world but when things are bad they can make you question yourself. To me it's no different than a co worker relationship. They can praise you and almost make you feel a little cocky like "I'm the shit" kind of feeling, but you mess up one thing and then they'll make you feel like you're on the chopping block. It can happen so fast, and I see it a ton in my industry.
Most positive, in all honesty, my fiance. He always makes me feel better about myself, my choices, situations- even in the middle of an argument.
It starts with family. Both positive and negative, it all depends on how you grow up. The more love you're shown, the more confidence you're taught, all determines the self worth you teach yourself growing up, and what sticks into adulthood.
Oooooo thats an interesting one and complex. Negatively i would say judgement passed on by people you love bc sadly people believe more ftom those they are close too and it just gets stored in their subconscious forever until triggered by present situations. Positively, honestly i feel yourself, if you cannot give yourself love, respect, and truely believe it, you will never set the standard for others to treat you. So i feel self reflection is the butter to our bread [self worth].
I think too many people are too worried about what others think
Is it super shallow to say how I look? But in like a health way lol like I feel better when my body is acting at max capacity Like working out and eating right kinda stuffI was in a bad car accident a few years ago and I wasn’t able to work out for a while and it really weighed negatively on my self esteem
Well I've been shaped a lot by my faith. I suppose that's had a big impact on my self worth. I was a really shy teen and had some pretty bad experiences in school. Won't go into details right now but it left me feeling worthless and alone. It was when I went to college that I made the decision to stop being shy. Started forcing myself to be social and turns out that I can get people to like m me fairly easily just by being myself once I discovered that I started feeling way better in terms of self worth.
A job offer brings me self worth
Supportive healthy work environment
Doing something for myself to make me feel pretty like pampering. Divorce and being left is my overwhelming negative.
Being cheated on tanks your self-worth.
Others opinion of me negatively affects my self-worth.
Stay tuned for reflection and stats of these soon ;))
Thanks for all of your contributions! xoxo-Steph
Instead of discouraging her or secretly hoping she doesn't win the cello position of a lifetime, so she can be a roadie for his dreams, he makes a replica of the renowned artful ceiling of Julliard in her own bedroom. This way, when she practices, she can be acclimated to such an intense environment as the greatest performing arts school in the country. Because she's worth that. Her dreams, her ambitions, everything she's ever worked for is something he wants too. You can find that too. I promise.
You forget all about the risk of resentment for giving up their dream for her.... but, somehow, "she was worth it."
- You are worth him picking up the bar tab. You are worth dinner. I'm not being materialistic or feministic-- if anything, just chivalrous.
- You're worth not having a door dropped on you. I'm not saying someone should go out of their way to hold it for you, the gesture is what you are worth.
- You're worth waking up to a note on your bedside table. You're worth sweet little things, not just those of monetary value.
We live in a world where appearance and shallow "survival of the fittest" are valued above intelligence and free-mind thinking. If your attraction factor is deemed inferior to another, than your visible flaws that must be corrected. These image-crushing mentalities are as available as air but they're not true. Sure words on a blog aren't going to change anything immediately... Because you have to believe them.
I used to think I was a hassle. I thought that I needed to overcompensate and make sure everything was perfect for someone to stay with me. But, I learned that as much as they are worth doing kind things for, I was too.
Perfect illustration of this is:
The greatest date I've ever been!
Apparently, I was worth that. It seems that way, but you need to remember when the insults fly, the darkness falls, and the insecurities thrive, you have to dig deep for what you, "the you that's you-er than you."
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
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