By Amy C. Witt
She was the woman. Style, grace, smarts and beauty that glittered and mesmerized everyone’s eyes…somewhat like the Vegas skies. She had the world in her palm and every man at her heels. Only leaving them to watch her red bottomed stilettos walk away, proudly in dismay. She had finally proved to everyone that her hard work would someday pay off. And, even after signing that $150 million dollar contract, she felt nothing. She casually got in her G Wagon as she began to fly away.
I know where I am going and I know where I’ve been but do I really know where I am going? What does “being insecure” really mean? I mean, I know what the literal and dictionary meaning is, but what are “insecurities” defined as? There’s so many different types – can you really label a person as “insecure?”
Antonio said, “Sounds like you have some insecurities.” Not only did it feel like a slap in the face, but it was hurtful. It cut deep. He’s been the first man I’ve truly cared, loved and saw a future with since Mike. Of course, I’m insecure. Of course, I have insecurities I need to work through…we ALL do! The word “insecure” thrown around so lightly is a problem to me. Not only did it make me snap out of thinking I can fully trust a man, even if intentions and motives were good shouldn’t there be more?
But, how do fully trust someone? I don’t know if I can ever trust fully. I don’t know if I am capable of giving my life and heart to any one individual ever again. But then, have I really? I thought nothing could get by me. I’ve played the game. I know the rules.
I mean how do you really define trust? Not checking your man’s messages, search history, social media accounts and messengers? “Knowing” that they’re not going to cheat emotionally or physically? But how do you really know? You know that you are whole heartedly putting forth the effort and love but…sometimes that may not be enough. What is enough in a relationship?
Sometimes I felt emotionally disconnected with Antonio. With Mike. And many more times I felt disconnected with myself, with reality. I hate reality. Is there really such thing as reality? Or is it just another label?
I never realize or know I’m insecure until I’m backed into a corner of negativity. Then, I don’t want to talk but rather, run. I question if I can fully be loved. Did God make someone specifically for me? Did he create a man so special for me? Sprinkled with an extra dose of love, an extra ounce of affection and a pound of more fuckedupness? Will I ever be meant for anyone?
I admit, I have become selfish in my needs, wants, thoughts and opinions. Sometimes their wants don’t phase me and sometimes, maybe I just truly don’t give a fuck because I’ve cared for too long.
For the first time in a long time I felt something. It was a mixture of butterflies, fear and hurt. Sometimes, people innocently drive irritation through my body, make my head fuzzy with anger or push me beyond disbelief. And perhaps, sometimes all I can respond is “okay” because I just don’t’ want to go to that negative place. Genuinely, I just do not want to deal with things or people.
Sure, I know I am in a healthy place to give someone/everyone everything, my ultimate all and best, starting this day forward. I have discovered a lot and I have worked so hard to be this woman. Free from pain, hatred and anger, insecurities, fear. I should be running free and happy, I mean I’ve made it this far. I can’t allow someone to change that regardless of the present or the future.
Do I want and ask for too much? Is it too much to have a hard core connection with someone? A bone chilling connection that goes further and deeper than that. That cuts through your skin like a razor and love so pure you become shameless. It’s being on a level of space, gravity, your own universe, floating together emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally…unconditionally. This level of connection where energy frequencies are higher and you’re capable of feeling the other’s emotion without even being around them. Its love that when your eyes meet, you look through each other’s soul, creating emotions that could never be described. Crying together on the floor because the other is in pain. Or laying your flesh on the soil, as you both gaze at the galaxy of stars but only speaking of the moon and Neptune. Making each other feel like the only other person in the world and desirably your best friend. A person who swims in the bath with you as they help you wash away your scars and your mascara filled tears. They believe your body is a temple and the creation of sex is sacred; his undeniable lust for you can be seen from planet Mars. From the outside, he equally puts in effort and work, but always returns with battered skin and callus hands from going the extra mile so you rest easy at night as he admires you in your sleep, knowing he’s the luckiest man alive. He holds you not behind him, but next, like you were born together as one.
Love isn’t good enough for me. I am in need of so much more.
I feel prettier in my world. Safe. I am okay with being alone, I like being alone. It’s easier – I’d much rather be alone…oppose to heartache. I long for that sense of belonging, for that sense of desire and obsession. But then, I don’t think I have the courage to give myself to someone. I think a part of me will always be this insecure lost 15-year-old girl. I try never to go back to her, but sometimes she’s just there.
She’s helped me be this woman today. I don’t know if what I am doing or where I am going is right, but currently it’s okay. I know I am mentally strong and healthy, but I need to take risks. How do you do that? What’s taking a risk constitute? Jobs? Fashion? Business? Love?
I guess it’s all a risk. Life is a risk, a gamble… a game of Russian roulette – you just never know when that bullet is going to hit.