When "the boy" and I broke up last October, I was obviously very upset. But it wasn't just because I had lost one of my best friends and the only guy I have ever loved but because I knew I was going to be....a-l-o-n-e. I knew I was going to have to face some pretty dark fears and get used to the idea of being just...me. I had made the relationship become the center of my world that I lost myself and who I was--truly. That was the first step--realizing that I sucked at life and I needed to get over it. The reality didn't hit until probably two months after the breakup. As I found myself spending time alone at night, with no one to talk to, and no one to plan weekends for but myself-- I realized that I all of a sudden had this freedom and I wasn't doing a darn thing with it. I wasn't happy with myself, physically and emotionally. I was a wreck. I refused to drink for the longest time because I knew I would hit rock bottom so hard, contact someone I didn't need to and just make a fool of myself. I would put on a façade at work, and then come home and break down. Right before Christmas break, I knew the only way I was going to get through that holiday and my birthday the next week was to pull up my big girl panties and start to move on.
As the process began, I was trying to figure out "me." And I guess it didn't hit me until I had Lisa tell me, "I miss my Baby Jess. Where is the girl that when I call to see what you are doing, you tell me that you are in the middle of making curtains because you were bored? Or, I would come over and I would find you in the middle of the dining room floor, with an empty bottle of wine, painting a canvas because you found a quote you loved? Where is the girl that throws on her boots, favorite black shirt and scarf and is ready for life?" Yeah...where the heck had I been? I knew if I didn't know myself, then I definitely couldn't start to move on. Because during those two months of "nothing," the guys I met was just hopeless. It was all emotions. It was a complete and total disaster. Each time And it wasn't necessarily the guys that was hopeless--I was. I gave up by February. I knew I needed to take time for me and not push anything.
So what did I do? I started to date myself. I knew I needed to take better care of me. I hated myself. So I made a list of things that I didn't like about myself. But for every negative I had about me, I made myself write a positive. It's easy to point out your own flaws, but so dern hard to figure out what you like about yourself. If I didn't like me, then how could anyone else? I thought to myself, "Maybe that's why the relationship ended. I wasn't being me. He didn't even like me anymore." I beat up myself a little bit along the ways, and my friends were incredible cheerleaders. However, as I focused on my more positive things, I found myself feeling better.
I started with my hair. I have great hair. And I don't say that in a bragging way. It's thick, dark, and has an easy natural curl that isn't a pain to deal with but can easily be straightened. I don't have to wash it every day but rather can go three days. So, I started putting more effort into fixing my hair. Betsy even came over one night to find me in rollers and bobby pins, playing "beauty shop." (Girl has got to do something to occupy her Friday night at home.) Then, I moved onto focusing on my curves. That has been my biggest obstacle. I have never fully embraced my body type because God blessed me with a big butt. So I started finding clothes that I felt the best in-- not necessarily the clothes that were in style. I treated myself to new shoes or a couple new pairs of shirts. Because when you dress frumpy and don't have a sense of confidence in what you are wearing-- your day is doomed. When I am having a "day," I put on my favorite outfit for that moment and just go with it. But sometimes, that outfit calls for yoga pants with a t-shirt and that is completely ok-- just not all the time. Next, I treated myself (and I still do this) with make up. I could easily spend $100 on Bare Minerals make up, but that isn't included in my monthly budget. I started to swap out my powders, foundations, and blushes for more simple, natural look (and much cheaper). I started to receive more compliments about how I was glowing (thought only pregnant women get that look). The only splurge I have on make up is with mascara and eye liner. That can make or kill a look. I will spend $13 on a tube of mascara if it does wonders for my eyelashes. And girls, I am telling you-- if you do that, you'll feel like you're going to be on the next commercial for Extremely Long Beautiful Full Eyelash {insert brand commercial name here}. Next, I started making myself cook dinner for me. I figured one day I will have to cook for a family so I need to learn some basics while I am living alone. I have perfected the best spaghetti with fresh veggies; I have a signature meatloaf; I have perfected BowTie pasta with peppers and mushrooms; I have learned several different ways to cook squash and zucchini; I can multi-task and have all burners going at the same time and not burn anything down. Total success. When I do cook, I turn on music and just go with it. I love a night of cooking for myself. I feel totally accomplished.
Lately, I have challenged myself to tackle things that I would not have normally done. Yard work and landscaping became my obsession over the summer. Some friends of mine and I just took out half my yard and busted tail to make it look amazing. I now find myself looking forward to Saturdays and Sundays working around my yard by myself. It has become a time for me to think about some things, lose a few pounds, and really take out some aggression with those hedge trimmers. Today, I did something else that I almost did not do. But, with my inner competiveness, I made myself do it: I learned how to surf behind a boat today. With some amazing friends, I was able to get it done. Each time I face planted in the water, I told myself, "You can do it. Focus. You got this. Prove it." And with each attempt, I got a little bit better, until eventually I found myself up and riding and getting a little bit braver each time. Had I not pushed myself and just hid in the corner of the boat (like I was doing), I would have regretted it big time. But nope. Next time, I'm not going to use my hands.
My point being: date yourself. Find out what you like. Do your own thing. Throughout all this, I have found my confidence. I speak my mind more when I am not happy (well, not all the time but I am getting better) and I stand up for what I think or when someone has made me mad. I find ways to entertain myself, like running up and down the hallway in my socks, to see how far I get without busting my tail. And when you've found that happy medium, dating won't seem like such a big deal. Who needs a guy to make you feel special when you can do so much more for yourself? After all, shouldn't you know YOU better than anyone else?
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