No, this isn't love.
I was bamboozled.
Hey Sad Girls!
A bit ago, I wrote about someone I was romantically entangled with sending me a song. In the essay, I said I was flattered by it, regardless of its contents. And I really was! But over a month after publishing the post, I received an apology.
I think I’d always hoped for one. A sign that my feelings were understood and acknowledged. That I wasn’t too much or too sensitive. That I wasn’t making things up. That what I thought was happening was really happening.
And the apology confirmed that I wasn’t tripping! The hot and cold, push and pull. It was all…intentional.
Now, as a neurodivergent woman, I have something called “delayed processing”. Sometimes I’ll know what’s happening intellectually. I’ll even verbalize it. But emotionally, I’m still romanticizing until I’m far removed from the situation. It leads to my staying in harmful situations far too long, as my brain tries to sort through the confusion I feel. It’s why I’ve adopted the practice of just blocking people as soon as I feel the vibes shift. I’ve unfortunately learned how people can so easily talk shit about you while smiling in your face, or leave passive-aggressive comments to laugh about in their group chats while chasing you down at conventions for photos.
But it’s so much harder with romance.
Anywho, this person explained that they did all they did because they were falling in love with me. Love. That’s a big word for Elmo.
I read and re-read the message. Mulling over all that had happened. My immediate response was grace. I admitted my part in the whole affair. My own disappearing acts. My own frustrating behavior. I accepted the apology and wished them well.
But then I really got to thinking.
To call what I experienced “love” is an insult to love itself. I was negged and poked at, in what felt like an effort to bring down my self-esteem. People tend to do this to me. They think I’m this attractive person, and they want to humble me, knowing it’s not hard because I already feel like shit.
I actually wrote about this feeling…
They’ve seen your cracks. And instead of handling you with care, they gleefully grab a mallet to break you to pieces.
It makes them feel powerful, you know. To shatter someone who’s already fragile.
When the first strike lands, I wince. Ouch. Why would you do that? I ask. And then I run. But being ever-confused and never wanting to misinterpret people’s feelings in the way they do mine, I return. Apologizing. Explaining. Feeling bad for someone who swiped at me first because maybe they didn’t mean it. How can someone be so sweet and also so cold? It doesn’t compute to me. So I try my hardest to wipe the icy layer off. Wanting to experience their warmth again.
This kind of up and down should not be romanticized. And I’m so sorry I ever did. In the moment, I believed I was in the throes of romance. Romance is always chaotic, I thought. Feelings are messy, it’s okay. They don’t know what they’re doing.
But then the apology came. And I realized. They knew what they were doing the whole time. All those moments where I had affection yanked from me like a carpet beneath my feet. All those little jabs meant to undermine my confidence. How can you love a person and want to see them on their knees? How can you love a person and hear them cry in confusion and not soften, just a little? You were falling in love with someone, but mocked the traits that stemmed from neurodivergence?
You can’t. Because that isn’t love.
I know I’m a soft person. And the expectation was that I’d come back, overjoyed by their growing capacity for care. But after a few days, I only felt frustration.
People are messy. We all bump into each other, like buoys bobbing around in the sea of life. Your trauma responses bump into my trauma responses. It happens. But this wasn’t that.
It felt like I was being punished for daring to like them at all.
Sometimes I’d feel genuine care and genuine emotion. Those are the moments I clung to. I knew they had it in them. And I wanted so badly to help them stay in that place of joy and openness with me. But it was like something would awaken, clawing at their heart and pulling it into the dark depths of their chest. Then they’d strike at me emotionally, or build a wall of steel.
“We argued like a married couple,” they said blissfully while reminiscing on the experience during our “apology” call.
But we didn’t argue, and we were never a couple. I was struck by a cold front, then I’d run. Then I’d return, explaining my feelings at length, to an exhausting degree for both parties. Then I’d be told I was taking things wrong, and that’s when everything would be “fixed”. Until it happened again and again and again. That’s not a misunderstanding. That’s not an argument. That’s a pattern that I now know was intentional.
To my fellow neurodivergent women…if someone puts you on a pedestal or seems to have an idea of you before truly getting to know you. Don’t engage.
If someone pushes past your boundaries, even in little ways, leave.
If you feel confused, it’s okay to try to understand. But do it from a distance. Some will intentionally scramble your mind for their own entertainment.
Negging is not love. Mockery is not love. It’s not even “like”.
RIH to Baek Se-Hee
The author of “I Want to Die But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki” has died. We don’t know what the cause is, but we do know she suffered from Persistent Depressive Disorder, which she wrote about very candidly. I actually reviewed her book when my own mind was in a much darker place, and it gave me solace that I was not alone.
Re-reading the post, I see how far I’ve come! And I am not in that place anymore. I’m devastated to know someone whose words helped me during those times is no longer with us.
When people share their depression, it’s never for attention. Ever. Humans fight to live. And no matter what, it’s always a crying out for help, warmth, and assistance. I know she’s at perfect peace.
Sorry for the heavy post today.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
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Finding love as a neurodivergent is difficult. I'm having similar issues trying to figure out what's real and what's limerence. When to flirt and when to be still. Thank you for sharing so openly.
This post was everything. It feels good to have some validation of what I felt with past experiences 😞