If you’ve been afraid to date or are unhappy with your love life, ask yourself, “What story have I been telling myself?”
For years, every weekend, my girlfriends and I went to the same bar, huddled around the same table and drank the same chardonnay. And every time, I heard the same stories,
“I’m never going to meet anyone. “
“There are no good guys in LA.”
“All the good men are taken.”
It was exhausting.
I had never had a problem meeting guys. (Well, maybe not the right guys.) But it seemed that my girlfriends were in a terrible rut. Every weekend, they would go to the same place. Their all-girl huddle created a barrier so strong that no man would dare attempt entry. Then, on the way out, someone would say, “Too bad we didn’t meet anyone tonight.”
Rather than risk getting rejected, they preferred to shift the blame to men. By claiming that none of the estimated 4 million men in Los Angeles were any “good,” they could remain in the comfy zone of doing the same thing over and over. The crazy part was that they seemed to expect different results.
But you can’t achieve positive results if you’re telling yourself lies. So, it’s up to us to examine the stories we tell ourselves about why we’re not loving and being loved the way we deserve.
“No one is ever going to love me.”
“I’m too old to get married and have kids.”
“I’m not good enough.”
Do any of these phrases sound familiar? Have you heard your friends (or yourself) say them? Stories like these are only true if we believe them. If you believe no one is ever going to marry you or that you’re not worthy of being loved, you’re going to put out vibes that convey that message to other people. And those people will believe it too.
If you’ve been afraid to date or unhappy with your love life, ask yourself, “What story have I been telling myself?”
Sometimes it takes some digging to figure it all out. Discovering where your story comes from can be painful, but the payoff is unlocking a lot of the reasons we do the things we do.
When I was a child, my household could be explosive. My father had a serious temper and when he went off, I was afraid. From night to night, we never knew if he’d come home and be happy to see us or if he’d detonate over some little thing like his dinner not being hot enough. To avoid that, I became a fervent reader, which ultimately, was a great gift that led me to become a writer. By hiding in my bedroom or my treehouse and reading, far away from the drama, I figured out how to become invisible. My parents divorced when I was 10. When it fit in his schedule, my father showed up for visits, often very late. I struggled to get his attention.
All of these factors are part of my story. So, as a result, throughout my 20′s, I asked for little and accepted what I got from men. If they showed up late or not at all, I didn’t make a fuss. I was comfortable being invisible. Whatever they wanted was what happened, because that was what I knew and was comfortable with. My resulting belief was that I was only good enough for a man to acknowledge and be with whenever it was convenient for him. My feelings in situations like that were familiarity and comfort.
Therefore when I dated someone who treated me marginally well, my story was that he was good enough – even when he wasn’t.
So, whether your story is “There are no good singles in LA” or “This person is good enough,” if you’re not experiencing reciprocal, healthy, nourishing love, your story is probably a lie. Why not take this opportunity to ask yourself, “What story am I telling myself?” Then dare to rewrite it.
Remember, your story is yours. Only you can change it.