I’ve been umming and ahhing about writing this post, as I was unsure as to how it would come across to the masses, due to the nature of the content and such, but as I sit here trying not to let the sadness wash over me, I feel compelled to journal the inner turmoil and pain and well…you can feel free to interpret it how you see fit, I suppose?

I’m bitter.

Not ‘bitter’ in the vindictive, spiteful way that we generally tend to associate bitterness with. Not the kind of bitterness that is wrapped up in jealousy and envy, no. It’s an isolating, helpless feeling one has no control over. The kind of bitter that has you mad at yourself, as opposed to anyone else. A self-bitterness, so to speak. And the subject that has caused such emotion? Why, love, dating and relationships of course.

I almost feel like a right dickhead for even talking about it, because I would never wish negativity and harm to anyone, but it’s come to the point now where I absolutely, positively cannot be around people who talk about their dating or relationship lives now. I wouldn’t go so far to say I find it triggering, but to be honest, I think I kinda do.

I love love. I love that people are finding ‘their person’ and going off to be happy. I love that people are excited about their new love interests. I’m happy for all these people that find love because they deserve it. But I can no longer put myself in situations where I am the recipient of these stories. I don’t want to hear about the many people you date. I don’t want to hear about how great you’re being treated. I don’t want to hear that you feel so supported, loved, and cherished. I don’t want to hear about how they make you feel.

I’m happy that all these things are happening, truly I am, but over the last year or so, these ‘positive and heartfelt’ stories do nothing but make me feel shit and lament over my lack of love life. It feels like the world is moving on without me. I hate that I have no experience. I hate that the only men who find me attractive are men with fat fetishes, or men over the age of 55. I hate being invisible. I hate never feeling desirable. I hate the fact that I have no support, no-one to lean on, no one to come home to, no one to call, or flirt with, no one to be intimate with. I hate knowing that the reason I’m alone is because of how I look.

I hate knowing that people do not find me attractive enough to date on a regular basis. As much as I am used to depending on myself for everything, sometimes I want someone to be there for me too. I hate not knowing what being in love feels like. I hate knowing that I will probably be single for the rest of my life, not being able to have a family and not knowing what it was like to have someone make you a priority or make you feel nice.

So excuse me for feeling sad when I hear about all the amazing relationshipy things that happen to other people. I get that bitterness is a shit trait – honestly I do. But when you’ve lived your whole life being invisible, not being wanted and being humiliated and insulted by men because of how you look, it can take a toll on your self-esteem when you constantly see others having the privilege of being found attractive, being asked on dates and forming relationships.

I’ve spent the entirety of my life having to hear about others’ relationships, without experiencing it for my own. I never went through that stage of talking on the phone till late hours, having a crush and speaking to them, butterflies, first dates. Instead, I had to live vicariously through others who experienced them – even till now, I’m still having to hear about the amazing talking stages/dates from other people. I don’t even know what a crush feels like – I haven’t had one in over 5 years. I don’t know what it’s like to be the object of someone’s affection. I don’t know what it feels like to have someone genuinely like and desire you. I’ve never been a priority, or even a second thought and honestly…it’s such a heartbreaking feeling.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t make me sound like the bad guy, but I thought it good to provide reasoning as to why – as happy and overjoyed as I am for them – I no longer want to hear about other people’s love, dating and relationship stories anymore. As an invisible person who will never be a beneficiary of love, it’s far too painful.