Dearest readers,
Happy Sunday! It’s 9:52am and I’m feeling a lot better than I did last night. Yesterday, I was dumped by the guy I was seeing for a couple of weeks. He did it over a text message, which, considering that we had only gone on two dates together, seemed appropriate. He was straightforward with his delivery: he did some reflecting and realized he no longer wanted to pursue a romantic or sexual relationship with me. He was still interested in being friends and doing circus/juggling/dance collaborations with me. But to be honest, I don’t think continuing any kind of relationship with him is in my best interest, considering the feelings I once had for him.
What hurts most is that he didn’t give me a reason why he no longer wanted to see me. It was just, “Sorry, I’m not interested anymore.” This struck me out of left field, since I thought our past two dates were lovely, and he seemed to be a commitment/monogamy kind of guy. He’s the closest thing relationship potential I’ve had in the past six years. This is a guy who waves me goodbye as I drive off in my Uber ride home. He’s a gentleman, opens the car door for me, gives me forehead kisses, takes it upon himself to plan out our dates, treats me to meals and insists on paying for dessert.
Ultimately, the little green flags mean nothing if the person is simply not interested in you. I don’t know what changed between Friday and yesterday… his rejection stung because I was nothing but real with him. I shared the “Belicia” side of me– driven, creative, sensitive, intelligent, authentic, flawed, real. He also saw “Felicia”, the person he called “hot as f***”, but I was hoping he could see me beyond just a sexy body and Latin dancer, and fall for the real me.
A haunting thought: what if he doesn’t want to be with me because I am bipolar? The dreaded, “I am bipolar, therefore I am unlovable”, script is playing on loop inside my head. This is a core belief that has precluded me from dating all these years, and for the first time in my life, I am finally accepting myself beyond the bipolar label. I see bipolar as my gift and superpower. I have no shame in disclosing my diagnosis, and I did so on our first date. He didn’t have much to say about it, didn’t really ask any probing questions. So I thought he didn’t really care too much about it, and that he liked me for me.
Well, since he didn’t give me a reason why he dumped me, I can’t help but go down that negative spiral and drive myself truly mad. No. I must reclaim my power. People lose interest for all sorts of reasons, many of which could be completely unrelated to you as a person! And the fact that he wants to stay friends and hang out platonically means he thinks I’m cool, so he probably didn’t break up with me because of my personality. Picking myself apart trying to figure out why he ended things is a losing battle that leads to insanity and disruption of inner peace, so I’m not gonna play that game. I’m gonna remind myself of all the reasons why I’m a great person and would make for an amazing partner, and it’s time to be my own cheerleader. As for the bipolar thing… if that really was the reason why he ended things, then why would I want to be with a person like that, anyway? Close-minded, entrapped in stigma, lacking of empathy. Disclosure of a mental illness in dating contexts is a tricky thing to navigate, but in some ways, having a diagnosis is a blessing. It filters out the kind-hearted, understanding, compassionate men from those who aren’t.
Thanks for reading, folks! On to bigger and better things!
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