One woman I dated told me she was “a little intimidated by how much I had my life together”. I laughed and replied that I was still trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was attempting to lighten the mood with some self-deprecating charm and make her feel more comfortable.
The fact is that I do have my life together. I’m emotionally, physically, financially and spiritually sound. I’ve worked hard (and had good fortune) to achieve this.
I’m not arrogant about who I am, but I am confident.
I wasn’t always this way. I had long stretches in my life when I was insecure about myself, the world and my place in it.
- After my parents divorced and we were uprooted from my small hometown to the big city of Pittsburgh I struggled to fit in.
- When we moved to the ghetto and switched schools in the middle of 6th grade, it took me 2 years to find my place.
- In college, when I lost my identity as the the “smartest person I ever knew” to being an anonymous unknown commuter.
- The decade after I dropped out of college, as I struggled to build a career.
I’m glad those days are over.
For more than a decade now, I’ve been confident and comfortable being myself.
I’m an intellectual. I’m not the smartest person in the world (or even in the room sometimes), but I have a natural ability to grasp complex subjects, concepts and ideas that I’ve honed.
I’m an introvert who demands challenges. I thrive with solitude, self-directed activity and being challenged to learn new things.
Although I am extremely high energy and follow a vigorous fitness routine, I’m always laid back, relaxed, and chill. It’s my nature.
Many of the women I dated said they couldn’t fathom not working. They said they needed the direction and structure that work provided. When I explained that my life was more structured now than when I was working, I could see the consternation in their faces.
Despite being highly focused on their careers and achievements, they never expressed any interest in my former career. I found it strange given their ambitiousness. In hindsight, I suspect they simply were not that interested in me.
I never asked any of the women who broke it off with me “Why?”. Their reasons don’t matter because I’m not changing. I know I didn’t do anything wrong or offensive.
Behind every break-up, whether initiated by them or by me, is the same underlying reason – I don’t want to be with you.
I’m good with that.
I am who I am.