Prone to overthinking, I am often guilty of analysing the pretzels out of all gestures of kindness within the context of a relationship. "What did they mean with this?" "What was the purpose of that?" "Is this love, or are they toying with me?"
Riddled with insecurities, I observe, mentally record, and scrutinize with "OCD" repetition and accuracy, every. single. little. thing. Unfortunately, the doubt and paranoia eventually creates the distance I imagined between myself and those I had hoped to love.
It's with agonising humiliation that I recently realised I am my worst enemy when it comes to intimacy. The conclusion followed the realisation that I don't always recognise "love" when I see or experience it.
In striving for a healthier life, I've made a commitment to believe that the good things others do for me, are just that, good things - nothing more and nothing less. I've committed to accept the love others offer, as pure, with good intent, even if it only lasts for a while. I've committed to believing these things whether I "feel" loved or not.
In the short time that I've stood by my commitment, a very interesting thing has occured; the voice of my insecurities has fallen silent. A short while later, I experienced the love offered. No, not sex, and not the fuzzy feelings around good deeds either. I experienced the feeling of acceptance and being valued for who I am, without conditions, and with no ulterior motives.
The challenge in being loved is to stop the voice of suspicion, stop perceiving every good intention as part of a game, and to start believing that you are worth the love you experience. I promise, if you do this right, the results will leave you loved.
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