‘I’m so proud of you.’
In October, I told my mom I had a small crush on a guy.
You want to know what she said? “Wow, I’m so proud of you. That’s big.”
Looking back at that interaction, I laugh. For so many people, coming to the realization that they have a crush on someone is easy. There’s no emergency siren blaring in the back of their head, no paralyzing fear.
But the fact I even said I may like someone out loud was huge for me, and my mom knew it. She knew because she saw me avoid saying those very words for almost four years.
Funny enough, I ignored the fact that I may have already liked the guy for two months at that point. The only things occupying my mind at the time were work and school. I really, really wanted to graduate summa cum laude. There was also the fact that I suppressed any subtle thought about liking someone. But I mean hey, that’s beside the point.
Yeah, I talked to guys and maybe kissed one or two over my time at college, but I never admitted to liking them. I never said, “Oh, I think this could possibly go somewhere.”
You know why? It was because I completely shut out any thought or feeling leading to something more. I’ve always had trust issues, especially when it comes to relationships. Let’s just say I don’t have the best track record.
A few months ago, I texted my mom. It said, “Hey, I’m going to come back to home a day early. I think I’m going to hang out with someone I might like.”
And guess what? I got the same response. “That’s so nice. I’m so proud of you.”
When I told my therapist about my feelings in both cases, he literally jumped with excitement. I remember him going, “ABBEY! Why did you wait until the end of the session to tell me this? This is huge.”
We all know why I waited; I was too scared to talk about how I feel. I mean, of course I’m going to wait until the last 10 minutes of the session to admit I like someone. Who wants to talk about hard stuff in therapy, right?
All of this to say: allowing yourself to feel may seem like a normal thing, but for me, it’s my biggest obstacle. It took years to even consider being vulnerable with someone. Letting people in has always been my biggest fear, and I know it. Everyone around me knows it too.
In my freshman year of college, guys would ask me out, and I would agree in the moment. As the date approached, I’d have a severe anxiety attack, cancel the date and block him. Trust me, I know that’s horrible; I don’t do it anymore. That just felt like the only way I could escape—the only way I could be safe.
So for me, admitting that I actually care about someone is like winning the lottery. I’m so proud of how far I’ve come. Am I perfect? Not even close, but I’m so much better than I was.
I look back at the old me with so much empathy. I still feel her pain like it was yesterday. I remember how many nights I cried myself to sleep because of that fear; I remember how worthless I felt. I was completely lost.
But if that 18-year-old version of me could see where she is now, she wouldn’t believe it. She didn’t think that she’d ever admit to liking anyone again. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to say yes to a date and actually go on it. She didn’t even like writing; I bet she’d even be confused that I decided to change my major.
You can grow a lot over the span of four short years. I’m happy to say that I’m a completely different person than I was entering my first year at Auburn. Yes, there was immense pain, fear and many long nights, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Without the hurt, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I probably wouldn’t be writing this post right now. Heck, I probably wouldn’t be writing at all.
The only reason I found my passion for writing was because it became an outlet for me to grieve. Then, that grieving turned into public blog posts on a well-known Auburn blog. And now look at me, I’m running my own blog from that experience. The domino effect is real, y’all.
Long story short: little victories are still victories. The small bursts of progress add up over time, and you may not even notice it. Whatever happens, just know that I’m always cheering for every single one of you reading this. Your past may be laced with painful experiences, but it made you who you are today.
If anyone hasn’t told you lately, let me just say that I am so proud of you. Keep pushing.
Sincerely, Abbey