JOURNAL: BREAKING DOWN MY WALLS

There was always a problem with every relationship: The girl couldn't commit; she has problem with having a stable job, she was trying to "find herself"; not giving enough, not sexual enough—the list went on and on. Obviously, I was picking the "wrong" people, whether or not I was conscious of it. I remember endlessly complaining about dating to my friends.

Of course, the problem was not with the woman—it was with me and my beliefs about relationships. It wasn’t until I realized this that I could begin examining these thoughts and how they were holding me back.

If I was "myself" around a girl I liked, I would be rejected. My fear of rejection during my 20s was so acute that I never knew how to be my warm and engaging self around woman. Whenever I was around someone I liked, I immediately became guarded, cold, and withdrawn. It was totally unconscious. In fact, I was really friendly and open but found out from friends that the opposite is what came across in my interactions. I wanted people to see me as strong and independent. Anything to avoid seeming lonely or needy. But the truth was that I was pushing down my real self—funny, chatty, warm, somewhat neurotic (but somewhat charming) self. My fear was shutting me down. I knew I was afraid of rejection—but there was more. Was I not good enough, special enough, handsome enough,  rich enough, smart enough? Deep down I knew that these worries weren’t in line with reality. I began to examine this belief and slowly started to see another possibility. What I realized was that I was attracted to people who were critical, standoffish, and uncomfortable with themselves. But when I let go of my anxiety, I started seeing attractive qualities in different kinds of people.

If I let a woman know I liked her, she would be turned off. Growing up, I’d always believed that woman  liked men who were "hard to get." Bad Boys. The converse also seemed true: If I were to let a girl  know I liked her, she would think I was lonely, needy, and desperate—which is often how I felt inside. In order to keep myself from revealing insecurities, I played the role of a 100-percent independent man—always busy with work and other plans. The problem was that I was so successful at playing this role that I actually came across as disinterested (I later learned). I never thought about what insecurities anyone else would have because I was so caught up in my own fears.

If I saw qualities I didn't like in someone, then it would be a deal-breaker. I couldn't seem to find anyone who didn't have a few qualities that turned me off. Some of the things I judged so harshly now sound superficial and ridiculous: I hated her glasses; her job was boring; I never laughed at her jokes; I thought her apartment was ugly. These judgments aren’t terrible in and of themselves—but I always took them to be significant, and unforgivable. I knew I was being unreasonable and even felt embarrassed about how crazy-judgmental I was about such small details. That is, until I realized why I was thinking this way. My judgments had become another unconscious tool I had devised to protect me from getting involved with someone. My negative beliefs became my invisible armor. When I eventually realized that these thoughts were trying to keep me safe from vulnerability, they became less powerful.

If I didn't meet someone who had all of the qualities I wanted, I'd be settling. I always had fantasies about the Perfect Person I wanted to meet, have a relationship with, and eventually marry. Weirdly, I always dreamed of finding someone who shared everything in common with me, thinking that the more similar we were, the better our relationship would be. I wanted to meet someone who'd grown up the same way I had, who was about the same age as I was, and who shared all of my interests. I thought this was the meaning of a compatible and long-lasting relationship. Of course, this belief limited the pool of people I could pick from; I was excluding most of the population because of fear—I was trying to keep myself safe. So in order to open myself up to a loving relationship, I had to loosen up my criteria and surprise myself with the types of people I could open up to. This enabled me to connect with my fears and start to change my thoughts.

If I let a girl know I wanted to get married and have kids within a year, she would run away. Like many people, I always (incorrectly) believed that ALLwomen were turned off by commitment. So I consistently pretended: I always presented myself as someone who just wanted a casual relationship, nothing too serious. Yet deep down, I was hoping to find someone who wanted to share their life with me and start a family. My fear of acknowledging and showing "my truth" made me live according to false desires and needs. Eventually, I realized that I was the one afraid of commitment and had to admit that to myself. Instead of exploring the scary reality of my actual desires, I made myself shut down.

I had been protecting myself from my big fears—being in a relationship, having my partner reject me, and ending up alone. So instead of risking that, I relied on my thoughts to keep me from getting involved in a relationship at all. When I finally realized that my fears would actually keep me stuck where I was—alone and fearful—I began to question my thoughts and found evidence to disprove them. I began to take risks, let my guard down, and act like the "real me" even though it was scary at times.