being brutally (and painfully) honest

Reading a messageboard that I frequent, I ran across this post. It's not about me - primarily because I don't tell my business out in public forums on the 'Net - but it hit me hard.

Uh, I wasn't going to post but I must.

This isn't really about him. It's about you believing that you don't deserve any better so you accept what little bit of nothing he gives. You've become co-dependant and your relationship has now become that of mother and son.

I would strongly urge you to take a long, hard look at yourself Try to figure out how you became the enabler. What is it about you that requires so little?

He is selfish, irresponsible and lazy. You can't change him but you can damn sure change your circumstances. Stop falling for the okey-doke like your name is Celie. Take care of your business. If he's the one he'll do whatever it takes to keep his place in your life.

I sincerely wish you good luck with everything.

What hit me like a ton of bricks was the line about "the problem isn't him; it's you" and "you believe you don't deserve any better." Being brutally honest, sometimes I look objectively at my mindset about certain things, and I often wonder why my own self-esteem and self-worth is shot to hell.

What in the world happened to me? I am not one of those self-loving and self-actualized women that speaks up for herself and demands the treatment she deserves (and not just in romance, but any type of relationship I have with any other living human being). When did I just learn to shut up and go along to get along? When did I internalize that I was just unworthy and unloveable (and yes, there are many days, despite any type of outward appearances, when I feel exactly this way)?

I've stayed in relationships too long. I've watched as "friends" took advantage of me. I've stayed silent and not spoken up on my own behalf. I've let other people do the talking and thinking for me. I've stayed in abusive situations.

I. I. I. I. I.

The common denominator is me.

I don't have anyone in my face anymore telling me I'm fat and too black and ugly. Now I do it to myself.

I can't point directly to any childhood trauma. Or I guess what I define as trauma. You know, child abuse, neglect, and the like. But the damage is there. I have broken bits and pieces of my self scattered all over the place.

What happened to me?

And this is what I realize about Chicago.... It's not him. It's me. The same dysfunctional relationship I share with him, I also share with other people in my life that are not so easily cut out. And it's not always bad. Sometimes it's good. But when it's bad, it's really bad. Like devastatingly painful bad. No matter how bad it got, I've always just learned to deal with it. Suck it up and move on.

This is the real story of my life. The one that no one sees. The one that has always been there. I know I'm not right. I can't help it. I can go to therapy and vent and cry and post out all of my thoughts on a web page, but I can't erase 27 years and start my life over as someone else when it's all said and done.