Things That Make It Hard for You to Be Loved

That may actually be your strength

Welcome back to the A Graceful Stride :) I am so happy you are here. This publication is free, but consider becoming a paying subscriber for $5/month to support the work that I’m doing.

---

Last Sunday, I was walking with my friend (yes—actually walking again, not just hobbling in a boot!!), and we were doing that thing you do when your friendship has enough layers to hold it:

Talking about the past, but really talking about who we are now.

Somewhere between career spirals and should-I-even-go-on-this-date dilemmas, the conversation drifted toward old patterns. Specifically, how I’ve always been drawn to people who felt like the opposite of me—especially in dating.

People who were relaxed. Go-with-the-flow. Spontaneous. Even a little chaotic.

The kind of energy that felt like freedom to someone like me: structured, organized, always a little bit in performance mode.

And that’s when I remembered something my therapist told me in college.

It was a season of heaviness. I was thick in grief. Trying to carry on with classes and friendships and conversations that didn’t seem to match the weight I was holding. I was emotionally raw, more tuned in to others than ever before. I could match the energy of whoever I was around. Call it sad, anxious, shut down. I mirrored it without realizing it.

One day in a session, we somehow started talking about boys. I can’t remember how it came up? Maybe she gently nudged me toward something lighter, something playful? Whatever it was, I found myself describing my “ideal guy” and she listened quietly. (Again…) “Someone who was relaxed. Go-with-the-flow. Spontaneous. Even a little mysterious.”

Then she said something I didn’t expect. She pointed out that the qualities I listed weren’t traits I naturally aligned with…They were traits I felt like I lacked.

At the time, I didn’t get it. But over the years, it’s stayed with me. Because she was right.

I wasn’t just admiring people who were different.

I was seeking what I felt insecure about in myself.

And assuming (maybe unconsciously?) that if I dated someone with those traits, I’d become more like them.

This isn’t a new reflection I’ve had on Substack. If you’ve been here for a while, you’ve probably seen the evolution in real time.

Because for the longest time, I thought I needed to be “more fun.”

Less intense. Easier to be around. Less serious about my goals. Less rigid with my time.

More like her—whoever she was.

I internalized that being deeply organized meant I was uptight. That having big goals made me intimidating. That caring too much meant I was overwhelming.

But somewhere in the last year, something shifted.

Who said structure was a flaw?

Who decided spontaneity was more desirable than clarity?

And why did I believe it so quickly?