inconsistent

I would say I’m a pretty good person.
“Pretty” because I can lie, envy, deceive, or act selfishly,
like everyone else, I guess.

But one thing about me is that I have an excellent sense of self awareness.
I know myself inside and out, and I have no trouble admitting my flaws and weaknesses, just as much as my strengths.

Depending on how I perceive myself at any given moment,
my self love fluctuates.

Sometimes I accept myself.
Sometimes I reject myself.
Sometimes I listen to myself.
Sometimes I ignore myself.
Sometimes I love myself.
Sometimes I despise myself.

Some would say I’m too hard on myself, but I think I’m just being fair.
If my self love is inconsistent, it’s only because I am.

And to me, love, whether for others or for myself, should never be freely given.
It should be deserved.
And I don’t always deserve to love myself.

Because there are days when I am not someone I’d respect.
Days when I lie.
Days when I take, but do not give.
Days when I choose comfort over courage.
Days when I watch myself do it, fully aware, and still do nothing to stop it.

But I didn’t always think that love should be deserved.

When I was younger, I loved unconditionally, mostly men.
And even though I thought I was doing the right thing,
it only made me more miserable.
By loving them without conditions, I accepted the unacceptable:
disrespect, humiliation, cruelty, you name it.

Love without boundaries is not love.
It is surrender.

That’s why I no longer believe in unconditional love.
Human weakness will always push people to take it for granted.
And once you take love for granted, you stop making an effort.

If I were to love myself unconditionally,
I would stop questioning myself.
I would stop trying to become a better version of who I am.

Striving for a love that is both healthy and unconditional might be madness.

By that logic, it seems wiser to put conditions on love.
The love we give to others, but even more so,
the love we give ourselves.

And since we are all inconsistent, because we are all flawed,
true love must also be inconsistent.

That is the reasoning that explains my attraction to bad men,
and my constant rejection of good ones.
The inconsistency of bad men mirrors my own.

Just like them, I love myself one day and ignore myself the next.
So deep down, I see their love as real and fair,
just like the love I give myself.

If he loves me this way, it must mean he sees me for who I truly am.
A woman who doesn’t always deserve to be loved.
And what could be more attractive than a man who truly sees you?

On the other hand, when a man is perfectly consistent in his feelings for me,
it feels fake. Because it doesn’t align with my idea of love.
It doesn't align with my idea of me.

I see his consistency as proof that he doesn’t really know me.
So how could he love me?

As I write these words, I realize how far I still have to go
before I can experience a truly healthy relationship.
Because as long as my self love remains conditional,
I am doomed to repeat the same patterns,
and to keep falling into the arms of men
who love me the way I love myself.

Badly.