miss independent

I didn’t choose to be independent. Since I was a young child, it was the descriptor that was always placed upon me. It could have been worse. I could have been difficult or a troublemaker. Maybe I would have gotten more attention that way.

I always thought needing help was a bad thing. I’ve never felt comfortable relying on others, and I’ve always pushed people away before they could get really close. I only opened up about feelings I had already processed. I never spoke in a train of thought, but rather just always knew what logistical way I needed to speak, afraid I might reveal something I wasn’t supposed to.

I’ve gotten very good at being on my own, and for the most part, I enjoy my own company. I am comfortable going for food by myself, seeing a movie, or even going to a concert. Of course I have friends I can do all of this stuff with but I think I always thought I needed to prove something to myself or others — In some way, I liked that it seemed impressive I could do all of that by myself.

I’ve always believed that the most intimate thing you can do for another person is help them. I’m not sure I’ve ever trusted another person to take care of me. It just seems too scary. But I really want to. I want to give myself over to someone and believe that I won’t have to coach them along the way, too.

I’ve spent so much of my life feeling unworthy of love. I’ve acted so cold in the face of it and placed myself in this dark, protective bubble. But, I’m so lonely. I have so much love to give. The delicateness of people is so beautiful. I want to get them a glass of water, wash their hair in the shower, learn their favourite songs. I want someone to do that for me too.

I don’t need someone to complete me, but I want someone to join me.

In the last year, I’ve really begun to learn what it feels like to really love other people. For the first time, I’ve started to let people in a little more. It feels terrifying, but incredible.

Maybe it’s the covid talking, or listening to the ‘Scott Street’ outro on repeat but I get so overwhelmed by people and the possibilities with them. I want to fall in love — romantically and platonically. I want to continue to make wonderful connections with others.

I want to let another person help. I want to tell my 11-year old self that she doesn’t need to be so strong all the time. I want my independence without the need for solitude.

There are a lot of things I can manage on my own, but I want the option to let myself shift some of the weight onto someone else. I am on a constant road of vulnerability.