Ever since I can remember, I have been an anxious attachment girl. I’d think I was in love just because a man was attractive, I’d over communicate and overcompensate when I felt a man pull away and I’ve always believed that I was the lucky one who had to prove my worth. This inevitably led me into the dark depths of a 2 year long cycle of dating, rejection, date someone else, rejection, extreme misery, even more pressure on the next person, push them further away, rejection, extreme misery.
Eventually, I found him. Someone who loved me back. We dated. I learnt that I was loveable and not to mention, an utter prize of a girlfriend. I had everything I wanted. I had gone for a different type of man and it had worked. A nice boy. A nice boy with huge biceps. So when we broke up (cultural differences, no future, that sorta thing), I felt light years better about myself than when I had first entered the relationship.
I got out there and dated this new type of ‘nice’ man and it was working again!…. until he came back. Big old mr bicep came begging on his hands and knees for us to try again. Now, luckily for him I was dealing with some very difficult personal circumstances that just about weakened me enough to open the door of my heart and let him back in. I don’t hate myself for it, it was right for me at the time.. but it was never going to be forever.
This is the funny thing about the universe, if you don’t listen the first time it will force you to the second time and so..there he went. The ‘universe’ ripped him from my grasp silently alluding to what I had begun to know deep down – I was worth more than him now. He served his purpose and now his murky promises of a convoluted future were no longer enough for who I was becoming. So the universe, or shall I say the dating profile he had kept on using since we’d last broke up, threw him far from my grasp.
I got over it once so I sucked it up and I got on with my life and I knew it was for the better. I’ll skim over the week of absolutely stomach churning sobs and grasping at my heart as though it was ripping into pieces because to be honest, I didn’t have the time to have that last long. My family member was about 3 days off of passing away and so thanks to ‘mr nice guy’ I spent the mourning stage sobbing in a hospice bathroom. All the sh*t came at once. So I felt utterly determined that in the new year just 2 weeks away, my life was going to be blessings with a side of blessings. I had to run full force out of my horrible emotion dungeon and into 2026 where the promises of ‘surely it gets better’ were standing.
So fine, here I am. I feel over it? But now we can get to the point. Something is very very wrong with me…. Have I become an avoidant attachment girl?
I don’t feel any different. Except this weird and slightly wonderful thing keeps happening… I keep rejecting men.
I thought, well I still have an urge to get back out there. Find my husband! I deserve it! So after about 3-4 weeks, in a moment of Christmas induced loneliness, I redownloaded the apps. I had some options. Gorgeous. Let’s get started. I met one about a week later. After 2 dates I got such an earth shattering ick that would not quit. Admittedly, he had farted loudly in the middle of a Sainsbury’s and simultaneously ran away and left me stood there in its wake looking unknowingly guilty. But still! He was fine! I saw him again another 2 times, still the girl giving men too many chances and then the ick came again, when I woke up in the night and he had drunk an entire bottle of wine that I had told him not to have because it wasn’t mine. Sounds fair enough right – get him gone.
So I went on another date with someone else. Ick again. Looked slightly old. Bin. Someone else. Ick again. His teeth. Bin. Someone else. Ick again. Sent me a sexual meme before we’d met. Bin. Now this might sound rational to most of you.. this is utterly different for me.
In the past it would’ve gone like this. Meet someone, he farted out loud in public – hilarious . The next person; I can still make this work. The next person; I can still make this work. The next person; I CAN STILL MAKE THIS WORK!!!!
So now I am sat wondering. Have I been freed? Have men become meaningless to me? Do I now see them all just as I saw my ex.. weak, pathetic, embarrassing? Is the only reason I am still going after them this learnt response from when I was so horribly single before? Men feel like leeches now. Little blood suckers, energy sappers, humongous road blocks to my peace. And yet, in theory, I want one? What is that? And on top of that.. I still doubt myself in this process of rejection, as my friends can first hand tell you, but it feels utterly impossible to like a man anymore!
Fine. That’s fine. Except it isn’t.. why…why does it feel like somethings wrong? Why is this bothering me?
Uh oh.
In comes the ugliest womanhood truth, rearing its ginormous head. Deep down in the most unconscious part of my very own Freudian iceberg…
…men are still on a pedestal.
What I am going through can only be invisioned as a set of old fashioned weighing scales. On one side, the ‘truth’ a perfect patriarchy like our own leads you to believe: Men are brilliant, men are admirable, men are special. On the other side, a ruthless truth I always knew of but never really internalised till now.. even the men you idolise are still just men. ‘Men’ who are (comparatively to women) emotionally weak, selfish and largely unimpressive.
So…what does this all mean for me now? Let me break down what I’ve concluded…
A) I need to learn to allow myself to be picky.
Men aren’t some rare prize, some ‘soulmate‘ that women are designed to spend their 20s and 30s yearning to be picked by. They are simply men.. as we are simply women. There are plenty of them and I don’t need to suck up one man’s sh*t just to ‘have a boyfriend’.
Don’t misinterpret my words. My best friends are men, my dad is my role model and some men I’ve dated brought me a lot of joy. However, they are not on a pedestal compared to me.
B) It’s okay to reject men
This one seems obvious but after so many rejections fired my way I fear I have grown too much empathy for the recipient of a rejection. The difference is, I can do it gently. I can do it as soon as I know something’s not right. I can be self-aware enough to not string someone along when it suits me if I can recognise it is not suiting them.
Admittedly, some people make it HARDWORK to reject them. But that’s a blog for another time.
And lastly,
C) I can do what ever makes me happy.
A big one. If one night, loneliness takes the wheel and steers me into Hinge for some validation, fine. If the next night I can’t handle it, fine. If I think I am ready to go on another date and once I’m there I realise it’s too much? Fine! As long as nobody gets hurt… I am doing exactly what I need to be doing. Just taking this new stage of life on.
So it’s been a journey. And whether my attachment type has shifted through this or I just need more time to process the whirlwind of sh*t, at least now I can do it with a little bit more self-acceptance and with one foot lightly pulling the lever that slowly lowers men’s seats back down to my height.
I hope you can learn a little something from this with me ❤
GirlzIIWomen
Leave a comment