Stop Auditioning for Love
You shouldn't have to become easier, quieter, or more convenient to convince someone you're worth choosing. There's a difference between putting effort into a relationship and performing for one. The right love makes room for the real you.
If someone wants a place in your life, you shouldn't have to spend every day proving why you deserve one in theirs.
I was talking to a friend recently who said something I haven't been able to stop thinking about.
“I just need him to see what we could be.”
I knew exactly what she meant. There is a particular kind of hope that comes from believing someone is one realization away from loving you the way you want them to. So you wait, adjust, give a little more, and hope eventually something clicks.
Maybe if you're patient enough.
Understanding enough.
Easy enough.
Maybe then they'll choose you.
The problem is that somewhere along the way, love stops being a relationship and starts becoming an audition.
You become hyperaware of everything you do. You rewrite texts before sending them because you don't want to sound needy. You pretend something didn't hurt because you're afraid asking for more will make them give you less.
You become very good at being convenient.
And convenience can look a lot like compatibility when you're desperate for something to work.
I've been thinking about how often women are taught to do this. We're told not to scare someone away. Don't text too much. Don't ask what this is too soon. Don't admit you care more than you're supposed to.
Be interested, but not too interested.
Have standards, but don't be difficult.
Know what you want, but make sure wanting it doesn't inconvenience anyone.
It's exhausting.
And maybe we've been asking the wrong question.
Instead of asking, “How do I make them choose me?” maybe we should be asking, “Why am I trying so hard to convince someone that I'm worth choosing?”
There is a difference between putting effort into a relationship and performing for one.
Effort is mutual. It looks like two people showing up, having uncomfortable conversations, making compromises, and caring about how their choices affect each other. Performance is when one person keeps adjusting while the other gets to decide whether the latest version is finally good enough.
You shouldn't have to earn basic consideration.
You shouldn't have to be perfectly agreeable to receive affection.
You shouldn't have to pretend you don't want commitment because the person you're dating isn't sure whether they want it with you.
And you definitely shouldn't have to become smaller so someone else feels more comfortable keeping you around.
Someone being uncertain about you doesn't make you more valuable when they finally decide.
I think that's an important one.
Because sometimes inconsistency creates its own kind of addiction. When affection is unpredictable, receiving it feels like winning something. Suddenly the smallest gesture carries enormous weight because you've spent so much time waiting for it.
A phone call feels extraordinary.
A planned date feels like proof.
A little reassurance feels like everything.
But things that should be normal shouldn't feel like prizes.
Maybe that's how you know you've been auditioning.
You're grateful for things you should have been able to expect.
I don't think healthy love requires us to stop trying. Relationships need effort. People need grace, communication, forgiveness, patience, and sometimes more than one chance.
But there should be a point where you notice whether you're building something together or simply trying to convince someone to pick up the hammer.
You deserve someone who participates.
Someone who asks questions instead of leaving you guessing. Someone who makes plans instead of keeping you available. Someone whose interest doesn't disappear the moment you express a need.
Someone who isn't constantly making you wonder whether you're about to lose them.
Because the right relationship shouldn't require a perfect performance.
You should be able to have bad days.
You should be able to disagree.
You should be able to say, “This hurt me,” without immediately worrying that honesty has made you less lovable.
You should be able to be a whole person.
And maybe that's what I'm learning now.
I don't want to be impressive enough to be chosen.
I want to be known and chosen anyway.
Words of Wisdom
Stop auditioning for a role in someone's life that they should be willingly making room for you to fill. Love requires effort, but it should never require you to continuously prove that you're worthy of receiving it. The right person won't need the perfect version of you. They'll want the real one.
Until next Tuesday.
— S.