Today, I’m going to be brutally honest with you all. The things I say may appear to be in conflict with previous statements, but it is not that I was lying to you at the time; rather, it is that I was lying to myself at the time. However, I want to refrain from doing so in the future. In the afternoon, I met with my counsellor, Tina (have I mentioned how wonderful Tina is yet? It was wonderful to spend time with her), and we had a great heart-to-heart about a number of topics. For starters, I’ve finally admitted to someone how desperate I’ve become. I’m desperate to find love. I’m desperate to fall in love and to be in love with someone. When you’re desperate, it’s in that dreadful, repulsive way that makes you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Anything you may hear about how unattractive it is for women to be desperate for love, about how big of a turn-off it is, anything bad you might hear about women being desperate for love — that’s all me talking. That’s exactly how I feel. I’ve finally admitted to someone how desperate I’ve become. I’ve been trying to keep it a secret for a long time. I kept it hidden from myself just as much as I kept it hidden from the rest of the world, so when I published an essay about how it’s OK to have never been kissed, I was speaking from experience. I tried to be as serious as I possibly could, not realising how deep my need had gone. Desperate quotes on Reneturrek will help you understand it better.
So, yeah, I visited with Tina and informed her about my plight. She was understanding and sympathetic. Yeah, I’ll admit that one of the reasons I’m so thirsty for this romantic love from a guy is because, yes, I feel it will bring value to my life. Something in the depths of my being believes that if someone never experiences passionate love, there must be something wrong with him or her. The question Tina posed to me was straightforward: “If you met a 70-year-old man who had never married or been in a relationship, would you assume there was anything wrong with him?”
I despised the fact that my response was “Yes.” I understand that this is incorrect, because there is nothing inherently wrong with someone who has never been in love with them, and that our value does not derive from people who love us. Rather, it is the fact that our value does not originate from individuals who care about us. But do I really believe it? In no way, shape, or form. In part, I blame myself since this is a belief I’ve held for the previous 20 or so years and have worked hard to maintain and develop.
On the other hand, I believe it is a result of the novels I’ve been reading. Despite the fact that I read a plethora of stories, none of them concluded with the heroine by alone. A male fell in love with her either because she transformed herself and became more attractive, or because someone finally noticed her for the gorgeous and personality-filled person she truly was. I was raised under the impression that romantic love was the be-all and end-all of all forms of love. Is it any surprise, then, that I continue to believe this to be true today?
All I have to go on is my own personal experience, and from what I’ve seen, males haven’t taken to me very well. As a matter of fact, many of the males I’ve had my heart set on have ignored me or regarded my presence as a friendly companion.
So I’m desperate because I’m not confident that I’ll find love. Because of this, I’m in a bad mood. I try to keep it a secret as much as possible, but one of the deepest, most sincere aspirations of my heart is to be loved and to be in a relationship, an engagement, or a marriage with someone. It is said in Proverbs that “hope that is delayed makes the heart ill.” As a result, I am overcome with sadness. Again, I’m aware in my mind that none of this is real. I’m not sure how I’m going to get myself to believe it, though.
I’m certain that I don’t want any other young women to go through what I’ve gone through. For me, it’s important that the world hears the experiences of girls who are like me: girls who are eager for love but never find it. A adolescent who has never been able to connect with a boy, and she will never be able to. And she’ll be OK, I’m sure. Because, in the end, I’m confident that I’ll be OK as well. Yes, I am looking for love. I want to be loved, and since I am a human being, I want to be kissed, have sex, and be held in my arms. I’m filled with disappointment since this isn’t the case. And I’m desperate, sometimes to the point of being dangerous, to see it through. However, there is a small germ of awareness buried deep inside me that romantic love is not the ultimate criterion of value.
However, there is a small germ of awareness buried deep inside me that romantic love is not the ultimate criterion of value. Having realised that the 70-year-old man I mentioned previously did have something to give, and that just because no lady was able to recognise it does not imply it isn’t true. Rather than a hypothetical guy, I know this because it is true for the men and women I know and love who aren’t married, as well as because I am aware of how wonderful and precious these men and women are. If they are valuable, then perhaps, just perhaps, I am as well. I am going to be really honest with you, and I am going to confess to you: I’m at my wits’ end. Ugly-desperate. But I’m prepared to put in the effort to go through it, to discover value in both others and myself. In God and His love for me, I am prepared to trust that my worth is derived from Him and His unfailing and limitless love for me.
That final phrase is incomplete because it was too terrible to write because it was so painful to write. Even if He never decides to reveal it via a man’s love — It’s physically and mentally difficult for me to declare that everything will be OK since I really want to be liked. But I’m going to keep saying it, just to keep repeating the truth until I believe it. So let me put it this way: even if God never decides to display His love through a man’s actions. I’m going to be OK. I’m going to be worthwhile. I am a significant asset. Amen.