Will this one last?

Most people tell me that my biggest problem when it comes to relationships (familial, friendships and ‘romantically’) is my expectations. That I expect too much, or even expect at all – a guy once told me, “Joey, you can’t expect!” Granted, ours was a confusing piece of shit, but I digress – and I’ve always assumed that to be the biggest and ONLY issue.

Thing is, when you use a superlative, there must be something to compare it with. As with my pet peeve of people saying they have 50 billion Best Friends, expecting too much of others is the biggest issue, but not the only issue.

I’ve just had a revelation from reading my ex closest friend in JC tweets/tumblr posts/fb posts (spoiler alert, they’re all usually linked):

I hate being replaced.

I like to feel like I’m necessary in the other party’s life, that I’m a significant part of their life, that I’m worth something to them and irreplaceable. I, Joey Aziel, subconsciously but surely, subscribe to the princess syndrome. I want to be unique and special, and Irreplaceable.

Cue Beyoncé.

In all seriousness though, I sincerely hate the idea of being replaced. To feel like someone else could easily take my place in the lives of everyone who matters to me. Sure, I dislike the You’re A Special, Unique Snowflake theory that has been drilled into my generation’s minds, but I am a victim, a rabid believer in this. I sincerely believe, deep down, that I am unique and special and one of a kind. Not just genetically, because I’m not a twin, but because of all my little quirks, beliefs, inspirations and role-models, experiences etc.

That’s why when the niece and domestic helper came around, my relationship with the parents got strained. My mom talks more to the domestic helper than to me, for goodness sake. That’s also why when someone says, “Hey, you remind me of another one of my friends!” I immediately get this insane, fervent desire to find said “friend” and rip her throat out, screaming a tribal warring song at the top of my voice.

However, at the very same time, I get comforted when someone says that they know how I feel, that they too have gone through the same thing and that it gets better, and why I broke down into a bumbling mess of snot and hot, sticky tears while watching two whole seasons of Awkward, because that show was the story of my life (excluding having two men falling in love with me. and the false suicide attempt. Plus the head cheerleader hating me part. But other than that, Story Of My Life).

Sure, I’m kinda self-centered right now, but don’t we all generally feel the same? The constant need to seek out comforting, reassuring words from someone else that it’s all good, that I’m not the first nor the only one going through whatever shit it is I’m trying to shovel out of this dump I’m currently in?

(It’s been a while, but let me try this again.)

Isn’t that why I need God?

Because although it stems form the self-obsessed, self-validating culture I live in, the knowledge that I am a special little snowflake came about because I’ve been told since Sunday School classes that God made me, that He knew me and still chose to create me, even before I was born. I AM special, because God wanted me to experience life.

Greater than that, He wanted me to have a relationship with Him, to go through all the hurdles and hoops, but ultimately reach peaks of exhilaration in our walk together, for the rest of my life.

I may feel neglected at times, but if I just remember to go to the Right person, or in this case, other-worldly being, I will remember that I’m His princess, and that’s okay. Cause in His books, I’m his precious, loved daughter whom He cared so much for, and decided to crate and put on Earth and breathe life into and allow His son to die on the cross for. This doesn’t give me the right to be a bratty little bitch, but that puts me in a position of immeasurable love.

I’m not irreplaceable in His books, and that’s what really matters.

Wow, scary men screaming below. They sound kinda drunk and they’re screaming a lot of profanities. I hope the baby doesn’t wake.

 

Shout out to Edwin, for reminding me when I was complaining about studying that I should go to God and pray before studying for His wisdom.

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