I don’t know a whole lot, but there is one thing I do know… Men are drawn to confident women.
That’s pretty much a fact.
It’s why men obsess over celebrities; it’s why men get whiplash when my BFF struts her stuff down the street; it’s why I am alone.
I mean, I guess I do come off as a confident individual (sometimes). One of my best friends is constantly in shock when I remark about my insecurities, & another one of my besties is exhausted from repeatedly reinforcing that I am not a total waste of skin & do possess some pretty fantastic attributes. Sometimes I just can’t see the forest for the trees: I am so focused on that stubborn blemish adorning the normally spotless space between my impeccably applied eyebrows, or how a perfect bikini body has alluded me for another year (thanks university), or how a couple prof’s are putting in their best efforts to destroy my actually pretty decent GPA, that I forget to celebrate the good things about myself.
Part of it is stress. I have yet to figure out a healthy way to deal with stress — I am a work in progress, you got me. Another part of it is society’s weird disproval of unabashedly accepting compliments & shamelessly celebrating accomplishments. But the biggest part of it is that I am a human being. Imperfect, emotional, a touch insecure.
Most of the time I can hide my overly emotional & imperfect human qualities well: I let them get overshadowed by my more dramatic, fun-loving, likeable personality traits. But obviously there are times when I just can’t get it together. There are times where I just cannot force myself to be better at social situations (hence the debacle at the grocery store a few weeks back). Unfortunately for me, I tend to lose my confidence at the most inopportune moments, & maybe that’s why I have managed to avoid a serious relationship for what’s become an embarrassingly long time.
Could it be inability to maintain perfect poise, keep my cool around boys, and the occasional abandonment of my usual aplomb that is keeping me single?
Well yeah. Men like confident women. They don’t have time for a girl who needs to be constantly reassured that she’s good enough. Nobody’s got time for that, really.
Now, I don’t think I need to be perfect — I’m not that delusional. I know that’s not what being confident means: confidence, rather, is the acceptance of imperfections.
I need to learn to own every aspect of myself: from top to toe, inside & out. & when I love every part of me, someone else will too.