On relationship cognitive dissonance

When did I become the girl who begs her boyfriend? Begs him to stay, begs him to change, but when he doesn’t, immediately acquiesces and says that I’ll change. Until the very moment I’m in that situation, the idea of these things is abhorrent to me, and in fact, I often take a very holier-than-thou attitude with other girls who do these things. But when it’s me, I don’t hesitate.

Really, I have always been that, for lack of a better word, pathetic. It’s embarrassing, and it’s probably the reason that I so vehemently look down on other women like me. It’s a compulsion, it’s unstoppable. And when I do it, I often (literally) throw up because I’m so disgusted by myself. For almost a year after a serious boyfriend cheated on me, I begged for him back. I cried to his friends, I cried at his frat house, I wailed to anyone who would listen that it wasn’t fair and how could he do this to me and that girl is such a slut, and then turned around and told him I would do anything for us to be together again. Why? What, realistically, would I gain? And why do I do it time and time again?

It feels like a switch flipping in my brain every time I sense, or probably more accurately in most cases, invent that a man I’m involved with doesn’t like me. The minute I even get a whiff of rejection, I go into a whirlwind of what did I do, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me, take me back. I so admire my friends that take people at face value and accept that sometimes, there is truly nothing you can do, nothing either of you did wrong, but it is simply time to part ways. This process is not painless for anyone, but I wish I accepted it more as a necessary evil. Not to quote DFW, but everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it. I value my time, I truly feel that I am someone worth putting time and effort into, but by begging and pleading, I turn myself into this hapless and weak puddle that is actually more unattractive than I ever was in the first place.

Now that I have had a few years removed from these more extreme situations, I had hoped that the drama of that time was what had informed my recklessness. All the same, I still find myself fishing for compliments, and basically saying anything to communicate the unspoken: do you need me? And even more than that, do you want me? Every double text, every “it’s all good haha just checking!” leaves me with such a pit in my stomach that I can sometimes barely breathe. What, I wonder, would be enough of a response to get me to stop? Apparently even hearing these exact phrases is not enough to alleviate my borderline panic, so the only conclusion is that I’m just hard-wired this way.

What comes after self awareness? Obviously I acknowledge the issue, and even in the middle of doing it, I feel premature shame. It’s like I’m addicted to it. How can I expect better of the men I date when I give in every time? And how can I be surprised that they’re shocked when I finally give up? I’ve created this Sisyphean nightmare for myself. I made my bed and I’m really tired of lying in it.