One of the hardest things that I ever learned to do was accept that I wasn’t someone’s type. Not the “I find nothing attractive about you” kinda man. It was the subtle “I want to date you, sleep with you and play you” kinda man. That man was the one that I couldn’t spot. I couldn’t see what his real goal was about.
I spent many years. Wasting my time trying to make him see that I was a good person. That I was a good woman. That I was who he should choose. Me. Can you believe that? I was trying to beg someone to be with me instead of realizing that I just wasn’t his type.
The thing is this…a man knows what he wants. He tells you what he wants or doesn’t want. The problem becomes that we don’t believe them. At least I didn’t. I figured that I could change his mind.
Make him love me.
It was as though his love or desire for me somehow validated that I was worthy of being loved. Yep, I was equating love/desire as the same thing and realizing that if a man didn’t have it for me that somehow I could change his mind. Make him see that I was the one for him.
When I realized that I was responsible for me and loving my own self I started to see things differently. I started to see what I was missing…I can’t make anyone love me. I’m just not his type and you know what? It’s okay.
I’m not going to be everyone’s type anymore than everyone is my type. The key is to recognize it and move on. Don’t try to force a situation. You spend time being used, lied to or played and you have no one to blame but yourself. Listen to what he’s saying. It’s okay that you’re not his type.
You need someone who could love you for you. The first time. Not as a last option.