It's a huge, freakin' hassle, that's what. I'm insecure. (There, I said it!!!) Of course, I'm pretty sure everyone who reads my blog (thank you, 5 Followers!) already knew that. I'm not sure when Insecure Amy was born . . . but dammit, I wanted to find out. So, naturally, I went to the one person I thought would give me the best answer: my mother. I'll let you decide if that was a mistake or not . . . read on for the answer.
Me: "Why do you think I'm so insecure?"
Mom: "Well, you've been like that since you were little."
Me: "Oh . . . wow. Really? How little?"
Mom: "Since you were a baby."
(Whaaaaaa? Can babies be insecure? Is that possible? If so, that's like the biggest insult in the world, right?)
Me: "Um, how was I insecure as a baby?"
Mom: "Well, you were never confident about anything."
(Confident about . . .? Drinking milk from my bottle? Pooping in my diaper? Crying loud enough? I'm confused.)
Mom: "You still aren't confident. You're like Mama was. She never thought she was good enough, pretty enough, skinny enough . . ."
(Side Note: "Mama" is my late grandma, Nana.)
Me: "Oh. Thanks."
I don't think Mom intended to make me feel worse or more confused, but she did. I had no idea I was basically born insecure. I thought my insecurities developed my freshman year of college during my first real relationship. Jon*, who was tall, tattooed, pierced, redheaded, skater boi, lover of Misfits* and Rancid, was not my type. Seriously. But . . . I was freshly broken up from my high school sweetheart, who was like this guy (coincidentally not my type either, but who knows their type at 17?), and then I met Jon, the complete opposite of that guy. There's nothing like going from one extreme to another is there?
We dated for . . . four years? Yes, four. Not long in, we both realized we didn't belong together, but at 19 and 21, we certainly didn't know any better. I'll spare you the gory details of those four years and make my point (or get closer to it.) Jon cheated on me. It was awful. We broke up. You get the picture.
I spent weeks and weeks wondering why I didn't see it coming, and then it hit me. The classic signs were there all along; I just didn't want to see them. He'd go through week-long periods of not returning my phone calls, go out and stay out ALL NIGHT LONG without calling until early afternoon the next day, get caught lying about the most trivial things (i.e. "I went to the mall" when really, he went to the skate park), etc. In the midst of all this, I became the irrational, insecure, possessive girlfriend that indulged in all the things girls aren't supposed to in this situation, like make my friend drive me by his house at 2 a.m. to see "if suspicious cars are in his driveway." Or, call his home phone a dozen times and hang up (yep, this was before either of us had cell phones and you could punch *69 to block your number.) Or, tailor my questions to try and trick him into telling me he was doing something wrong: "So who did you hang out with at the bar last night?" when he hadn't even told me yet if he went to the bar or not. Welcome, Crazy Girl.
And although I was right in suspecting something was going on, Jon did his damndest to make me feel like said Crazy Girl for thinking anything. Years after we broke up and were able to be friends, we talked about it, and he admitted I had EVERY right to feel the way I felt. He said that making me feel crazy for doing the things I did made him feel less guilty about the shit he was doing to me. Welcome, Douchebag Guy.
It was those years feeling like the Crazy Girl and being with the Douchebag Guy that made me feel so insecure. Little did I know, I was born that way. Great.
I bring all this up because my insecurities (whether you're born with them or contracted them from dating Douchebag Guy who cheated on you) have caused some squabbles between my boyfriend and me as of late. Now to be fair, he hasn't always been the greatest BF and he'll admit it. We had an extremely rocky start (that lasted about a year) but have come a long, long way and have been happily together for a couple of years now. Soooooo, how can I curb at least some of my insecurities? Tips anyone?
*Of course his name isn't Jon, but in the rare possibility he reads this entry, I'd like to spare hurt feelings.
*I actually like the Misfits.