“Feeling safe in someone’s energy is a different kind of intimacy. This feeling of calm and protection is truly underrated. ~ Vanessa Klass
When I first said “I love you” to a romantic partner, I was met with silence.
I believe we have developed a deep mutual relationship and, nine months later, I am convinced that we are on the same page. But as soon as the words came out, he froze. No reply. There are no guarantees. Just silence. The next thing I knew, he disappeared for weeks, leaving me sitting in the fragile ruins of myself. I started questioning everything – why was I sharing so much? Why do I open my heart, only to close it again?
In this silence, I created a story about myself that followed me for many years. I convinced myself that I didn’t deserve to be loved in return, that there was something inherently wrong with me. This belief permeates every subsequent relationship. I started waiting for the other shoe to drop, convinced that love was something I had to earn, not something I deserved.
In college, the pattern continued. I dated a guy who used me as a backup plan. The days He chooses me are filled with excitement, nerves, and joy—but they are few and far between.
Most of the time I wait by the phone hoping someone will answer. When he didn’t, I again questioned my worth and wondered what I was doing wrong. This cycle has become so familiar that I don’t even recognize it anymore.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that by showing up in relationships this way—making myself the second best girlfriend, remaining cowardly in my love, my confidence, and my desires—I was teaching others how treat me. I told them through my actions that I didn’t expect anything more and that this was enough. But this is not enough. Deep down, I know I deserve more, but I don’t believe it yet.
I carried these same patterns into my first marriage, thinking that if I worked harder and gave more of myself, maybe, just maybe, he would love me the way I longed to love him. But love is not about fixing someone, and it certainly isn’t about fixing yourself. But for a long time, I believed that was the case. I convinced myself that as long as I could improve myself and become the ideal partner, I would be enough.
But eleven years later, I knew I couldn’t continue to sacrifice my happiness for a relationship that wasn’t right, so I left—not because I had all the answers, but because I knew I couldn’t stay.
It wasn’t until I got into a therapist’s office after my divorce that things started to change. I thought I needed to repair what my ex-husband had damaged and that my brokenness was why love failed.
One day I walked into the therapy room, clapped my hands on my thighs, and shouted happily, “I just want to be happy!” Who am I kidding? I see happiness as a box to be ticked, a goal to be mastered. But my therapist, in her quiet wisdom, simply said, “That won’t work.”
I was angry—even triggered. How dare she tell me it’s not that simple? But deep down, I knew she was right.
You can’t force yourself to feel happy, and you can’t pretend you feel complete. I spent a lot of my life trying to fix others and mold myself into a person worthy of love, but I didn’t stop to consider that maybe I was enough. But I had to understand why I kept showing up in relationships with people who couldn’t reciprocate my love.
Why did I choose an emotionally unavailable man? Why am I so convinced that I am the problem?
I see these patterns in myself and many others. One of my clients once sat across from me and said, “Molly, I’m a hard woman to love.” Those words have stuck with me. I could see the weight of this belief in her eyes—a belief she had carried for years.
I asked her, “When did you decide? When did you begin to believe that you were difficult to love?”
She paused and we dug into her story. Sometimes she is not chosen and she feels she must earn love by being perfect and pleasing others. She carried this belief into her marriage, shaping her performance. She is defensive and always expects rejection, which builds a wall between her and her partner.
It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy – the belief that she’s hard to love makes it come true. Through her recovery, she realized that she was not difficult to love; She was lovely as she was.
Her story mirrors my own. For years I believed I had to earn love and prove my worth. In doing so, I allowed for a relationship that was far removed from what I truly wanted. I didn’t know it at the time, but by being the secondary girlfriend and keeping my desires minimal, I was setting the standard for how I was treated. I told myself and others that I didn’t deserve more.
But the truth is: we all deserve love. Not because of anything we do, not because of how perfect we are, but simply because of who we are.
This realization did not come easily to me. I spent years peeling back the layers of limiting beliefs and asking why I always settled for less. But everything changed when I finally understood that I was worthy of deep, loyal love.
After my divorce, I made a promise to myself. I’m not going to settle down anymore. I sat down and wrote a list of twenty-two qualities I wanted in a partner. Not because I was trying to create an impossible list, but because I needed to figure out what I truly valued. I need to hold myself accountable so I don’t fall back into old patterns.
This list reminds me of my worth and reflects what I deserve. I have to stick to that to make sure I don’t somehow convince myself that four out of twenty-two will be fine.
Later, I finally met my current husband.
We met at the local grocery store. I kept passing him in the aisles and finally got up the courage to stop him in the cleaning aisle. We chatted for a few minutes, and then I walked away, both excited and embarrassed by my own audacity.
We had both been through divorce, so we entered this new relationship cautiously, but it wasn’t long before we were building something real. Something based on truth, mutual respect and love that doesn’t feel like work. As our relationship grew closer, we began to heal—both individually and together. He’s not perfect and neither am I.
I remember one moment in particular from the beginning of our relationship. He suggested I start weight training and I immediately felt defensive. The old story comes back: “He doesn’t think I’m good enough. He doesn’t like the way I look.
But instead of letting the story spiral, I did something different. I took a lesson from the beautiful author Brené Brown and told him, “The story I tell myself is, you don’t like my body.”
His reaction? pure love. He assured me that it wasn’t my appearance at all; He recently listened to a podcast about bone health and the benefits of weight training for women. He thinks lovingly about my long-term health and our future together.
If we hadn’t chosen to be vulnerable and trusted the other person enough to tell their truth, the conversation might have flowed in a completely different way. Things might have been different if I had let my narrative spiral and never opened up the discussion.
This is true love. It can be messy, it can be imperfect, and it can also be easy – when it’s right, it doesn’t feel difficult. Beauty lies in vulnerability. The beauty is realizing that the hurt we bear and the walls we build are not really about us, and it is the journey that brings us together.
Secondary, unfaithful, lying, waiting to be chosen – these have nothing to do with me. This is about them. It’s about their journey, their walls and their fears. Once I understood this, I was free. Love freely and without reservation. Free to receive the love I have always deserved.
If you’re reading this and feeling the same sting of rejection, the same pattern of being put second, I want you to know this: It’s not because you’re missing something. Never. The hurt you experience does not define you. You are not unlovable. You are not broken. You deserve love that sees you fully and cherishes every part of you.
But first, you have to see it in yourself. You have to believe you deserve more. You have to make that list—whether it’s twenty-two things or just one—and stick to it. Not because you are waiting for someone to complete you, but because you know you are complete and you want to share your amazing life with someone.
When love comes, it will be everything you have been waiting for. Not perfect, but true. In the end, that’s what matters.
Because love–real love–has nothing to do with being chosen. The first thing is to choose yourself. When you do this, everything else will fall into place.
About Molly Rubesh
Molly Rubesh is a life coach and author who helps women embrace their true power and live a heart-led life. After going through divorce, grief, and career changes, she now guides others to let go of their fears and follow their hearts. Get her free guide, 5 Ways to Survive Without a Safety Net, and start your journey to a braver, more fulfilling life.
