The change: when I started demanding better of, and for, myself

and others...

Lately, I’ve dwelt a lot on that whole— “you can’t really love another if you don’t love yourself” bit. I think about the truth of that.

Certainly, many of us are self-critical, even self-loathing. To various degrees. Sometimes rarely, others all the time. Some show it outwardly. Others mask it pretty well.

That was me at one point, for sure.

I supposed it’s normal to somedays feel pretty good about ourselves; other days—not so much.

Though I find it interesting that those who are traumatized and have a sense of low self worth/low self esteem as well as those with personality disorders struggle in this area, to really give and receive love.

I understand that for some personality disorders, like NPD, there is a deep sense of shame and insecurity and fear of mediocrity. Hence, the overblown sense of self, stories of grandeur, and delusional stories. (I’m going to be rich or I can handle this or that career, even though all evidence to the contrary from the past and current realities.)

In this way, the sense of realism and self-actualization can be pretty limited.

I reflect on all of this, as I begin a new relationship that I am very excited about, with someone who is a great deal more emotionally mature, self-actualized and accountable than my ex. It strikes me—the vast differences in his mental, emotional and intellectual depth and breadth, very absent from my previous relationship.

I feel safer and I can trust. My central nervous system is much more relaxed in our conversations and around him.

What strikes me also is this—how much I lacked before that ability to self-love and set high standards, with a refusal to raise them until now, after healing. That was lacking before. I accepted far less and hurt myself in the process.

Now, I forgive myself; I was sleep-walking and just surviving.

But, after some time, therapy, healing and perspective, I have started to expect better. Not impossibly high standards that I could not also achieve, but a determination to find someone who would match mine, those that I was also willing to bring to the table, to offer to a potential partner.

Sure, I had to heal first. Can’t bleed all over someone who didn’t cut me. I refused to be like my ex that way. I did the work. I hurt. I cried a lot in the fetal position. I self medicated. I read a lot. I processed and reflected and did therapy. I learned to love myself again. I reconnected with myself and realized that I am a pretty strong, intelligent and interesting person in my own right. I am just fine.

And when I realized that, that I am just fine by myself, with the emotional and support from my amazing friends, my purposeful work, neighbor, and my lovely home and beautiful campus, and when I understood that—though single—I am never really alone, the game changed.

I changed.

I may have practically no family, but I have my chosen, cultivated family. I make community where I go. I have already done so. I am a good friend and neighbor. So I am making them as well. I will find my way in this new place, as I always do, as my best friend, Holly reminded me.

Along the way, I also realized that I enjoyed my own company a lot more than I do conversing many other people. (read: most often men on dates).

I come full circle to say this—after being with a narcissist, I understand that over-inflated senses of self, immense egos, huge degrees of entitlement and unmitigated gull, and high expectations that you make of others but aren’t able to demonstrate/give/display yourself in any relationships are often telltale signs of very fragile, wounded, people. That look outward for external validation to compensate for their own internal lacking.

They often direct their criticism outward, blaming any external factors, in immature and desperate attempts to mask their own self-loathing.

I am glad I am not one of them. Or with one of them.

I am happy. I am enjoying life.

And I am so thankful; it’s about damn time.