Today’s gut-wrenching punch was brought to me by Instagram.
I always thought that if I were an Indian woman and thin, he would have been much nicer to me and valued me more. He loves India and his nurse friend in Singapore told me he dated an Indian woman before me and that J is fond of Indian women. I remember an Indian man who J and I chatted with when we were about to try his newly opened food kiosk and he said he thought I had come from Northern India and he said I looked like one of them (it must be my black eyeliner). Then I turned to J and gave him a look that said, “Ohhhh now it makes more sense now!” He just gave me back a sheepish look, like he couldn’t explain himself. So adding up all the things I have been ruminating over the past months, I conclude that I have the wrong nationality and live in the wrong country. In short, I never had a chance so I shouldn’t have held any illusions. It could have saved me a lot of heartache. 🤦🏻♀️
As I said, I was just a space-filler.
So yeah, better to be alone than to forever question why was I not being valued when I had put this person above anything else. I must put into writing on my wall that I don’t need anybody to make me feel I have value. I need to convince myself over and over. What happened didn’t help my very low self-esteem at all and it would take me quite a while to find where my dignity and self-worth have gone.
But in the process of healing and self-discovery, I should enjoy my solo life and move forward. Plan for the things that I would do after the pandemic. Life is too beautiful to be dragged down by the past and people who have just discarded me like that.