The honest cycle of self-infliction

How fragile is self-esteem?

Years built, but how swiftly would you trade it for tender affection? Why can't the two exist at once?

I've always been contented with my values, judgments, and choices in life. And self-assurance was always my pride point. Then, I negotiated with myself and compromised with the soft risk-taking me. I surrendered and had my life shared. I had me shared. And the brick walls came down. Then, suddenly, I don't like myself anymore. I became the person I hate, the very person I advised my friends to not become: I value myself less, my time less, my contribution less. I second-guess myself often.

I started to blame myself for hurting. I inflicted upon myself for being disappointed when my boundaries are crossed. "She's not listening to herself," my head is screaming at me.

But all the other words just screamed much harder.

"Am I being unfair for feeling this way?"

"Do I expect too much, ask for too much?"

"Maybe I'm not patient enough. Not kind enough." "I should stop talking. It's annoying. I'm annoying."

"I shouldn't have said anything. My feelings are pushing people away."

Is this what selflessness actually mean? To abandon the self? Because the peace I used to have... where has it been taken away from me to? And now that I've lost that peace, I hate myself for breaking. And in that moment where I mock myself, I'm hoping someone would come running, and say, "It's ok. I love you no less."

But it was silence. And the silence was too loud, I just want to go home.

Because it's a cycle. After disappointment, there comes hurt, then anger picks us up, until it strands you away on your own in shame. And all those feelings you just carry with you back to yourself and inflict them upon yourself once more.

So, let me just go home. Home where I don't feel ashamed anymore. Home where I can restore my peace. Home where I no longer surrender. Home where I rebuild my walls — this time, with metal.

Or just really, anywhere else but here. Anywhere else I can find the Alli I had. The Alli before she broke. I don't like this one. She's a defect — so I'd like a return, please. She's an embarrassing, painful watch, unlike the one I saw on TV the other day. She had the light that attracted me, but I broke it, so I don't like her anymore now. I feel bad, but I just want a factory reset. Whatever it takes.

So, again, I ask... how fragile is self-esteem?

Maybe I was right all along. Maybe women don't need love. We just need safety. And we often mistake the two with each other.