Dear Roe,
What could be so wrong with me that no one has ever liked me?
I’m a 26-year-old female whose never been liked by any guy. As a consequence I’m also a virgin (not even been kissed, and no one has ever held hands with me, romantically). Throughout my life, I’ve alternated between being very skinny and very overweight, and still no one has ever showed me a bit of attention, not even when I’ve been fit.
My friends say that I’m funny, and I’m often complimented for my cheerful personality. I’m also academically and professionally accomplished – I have a triple major, and I’ve worked for every big name company out there. I am always nice to everyone, and I’ve never been scared to show guys when I like them (in a subtle way, of course), but they either end up flirting with the blonde that sits next to me, or bully me and insult me for my looks (when I’ve been fat).
I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong, or what I’m simply not doing at all. This has caused me to suffer from chronic depression for more than a decade. What’s so wrong with me?
I don’t think anything is wrong with you. But I think you might be so scared of the idea of “wrongness” that you’re hindering your ability to honestly connect with people.
As I’ve covered in this column several times before, not having a lot of sexual or romantic experience is not, nor will it ever, be a measure of your worth.
I understand the pain that comes from not feeling attractive or wanted, but you need to flip your priorities and the question you’re asking about yourself.
Instead of focusing on getting with just anyone, focus on what you want from a connection right now. Do you want casual sex, a relationship, to date around for a while? And what does the ideal version of all those scenarios look like? Instead of asking “What is wrong with me?”, start asking the question that is noticeably absent in your letter: “What do I want?”
This might be a question that is hard for you. It’s obvious that you are academically and professionally talented, which is wonderful – but I worry that the perfectionism that has brought you so much success may be affecting your idea of your own self-worth.
Because humans aren’t perfect. None of us. And if you embrace the binary that perfection is success and anything less is failure, then you’re inevitably going to be convinced that you, and your inescapable humanness, are a problem. I think you do already. And I think the result is that you try to hide that humanness – when it means hiding the best part of you.
You mention that your weight has varied significantly over the years. This may be an incidental issue or a health issue, but low self-esteem, perfectionism and an intense view of success and failure can become a breeding ground for disordered eating, so if you feel this is an issue for you, please tell your GP and ask to be referred to a specialist.
You mention that you are “always nice to everyone”. Not everyone deserves for you to always be nice to them. This is a blanket life rule, for everyone. There are times where “niceness” is a poor substitute for firmly setting your own boundaries, for calling out nasty or even abusive behaviour, for taking a stand. I’m deeply suspicious of people who are “always” nice. Because niceness isn’t always a virtue; sometimes it can be a facade.
And for the love of Baba Yaga, do not be nice to men who are not nice to you
Niceness, incidentally, is connected to your ideas of gender and flirting. When you express interest in men, you do it “in a subtle way, of course”, i.e. – the “right” way. The ladylike way. Women are often told to be “nice”, to be “subtle”, to put other people’s needs first. Which is another thing you do.
You don’t think you deserve to have high standards because you don’t have experience, instead of believing that you get to have whatever standards you want. We’re also told to appear pleasant and cheerful – another box you tick. Everyone who knows you compliments you on your “cheerful personality”.
But you’re not cheerful all the time. You have depression. A lot of the time, you feel lonely, confused, insecure and a bit pissed off. And that is okay. That is being honest. That is being vulnerable. That is being human.
Embrace your humanity. Stop hiding behind your focus-grouped, extensively researched portrayal of A Nice Lady. Be yourself. Be pissed off when you need to. Be unsubtle when you want to be. Be sad and ask for help when you need to.
And for the love of Baba Yaga, Queen Of Not Nice Ladies, do not be nice to men who are not nice to you. By constantly monitoring yourself, shrinking yourself, demanding perfection from yourself, you’re constantly asking “Am I too much? Not enough? Good enough to love?” And you’re giving other people the power to answer that question.
Take the power back. Work (with a therapist, if you don’t have one already ) on embracing yourself – flaws, not-nice moments and all – and see who turns up, who sticks around, who’s suddenly interested. People will be, both because you’ve shown your gorgeous, flawed humanity – and because in so doing, you’re showing you’re not scared of theirs. That’s another thing about perfectionism. Demanding it from yourself can sometimes make other people feel like you might demand it from them, too.
And don’t be mad at the blonde girl who sits next to you. This is another thing that perfectionism and gendered ideas of behaviour both do: they demand we compete with each other, judge each other, blame each other for our perceived “failures”. Once you start believing in your own worthiness, your own magic, your own beautifully flawed humanity, you’ll find it easier to embrace it in others.
This isn’t a competition. It’s your life. Stop striving for a non-existent grade, and strive for self-acceptance, instead.
Roe McDermott is a writer and Fulbright scholar with an MA in sexuality studies from San Francisco State University. She is researching a PhD in gendered and sexual citizenship at the Open University and Oxford.
If you have a problem or query you would like her to answer, you can submit it anonymously at irishtimes.com/dearroe