This question has been on my mind lately. To be honest, I’m not really sure.
I grew up not really believing in love. That’s weird, right? A girl who grew up wanting to be a princess not believing in love? Well, for as long as I can remember, my parents were never happy with each other, but there was a time when they were “in love.” My dad used to tell this story about when he first laid his eyes on my mom. It was love at first sight. At that moment, he told himself that he was going to marry her one day and put forth all his efforts into getting her attention and impressing her. But when I was fifteen, I caught my dad cheating on my mom. I was always spoon fed the idea that love was forever, and this was not forever. At age 15, I believed that there was none of this everlasting love that everyone on TV talked about. Love was just some imaginary notion that people used to exaggerate their feelings for one another. This single moment completely shaped my entire life and still affects my life to this day. I couldn’t trust my father, and I started to resent my mother. Even though it was my father to blame, I didn’t want to end up like my mom. She was overbearing, and I wanted to be nothing like her. She eventually became my anti-role model.
But that only led me to have two naive, disastrous relationships once I started dating. I dated my first two boyfriends very briefly. Both relationships ended with them stomping all over my pride and me finding out later that they cheated on me. I never felt so destroyed, and I knew that only someone who I was so vulnerable to could make me feel this way. Whatever this love was–if it existed, that is–made people extremely attached and vulnerable, and I wanted nothing of it. I didn’t want to become attached to someone who could hurt me so badly. The pain was unbearable for me.
And then there was my third boyfriend. I didn’t even like him when we first started dating, but he put in so much effort into our relationship. I’d never have someone give me all that time and care before, so naturally I fell in love with him. He made me feel special and loved. But as it turned out, he didn’t care about me as much as he led me on to believe. He was selfish and manipulative, and I stayed in the relationship longer than I should have. The thing is, love convinces you that you’re happy, even when your dignity and principles are being stomped all over. Love makes you think as long as they’re happy, you’re happy, and I don’t think that’s right.
Now, I don’t know if I believe in love, and even if I do, I don’t know if I want it. All I know is I want to be happy, and I’m happy with my boyfriend. So that’s enough for me.