“I feel like a failure at love”
A conversation about bruised hearts.
An audio version of this article – by me – is available here:
A friend and I had a voice note conversation this week – God bless voice notes, amiright? – that we both found very moving. So much so, in fact, that I asked her permission if I could record the gist of it here in the hope that it may soothe other bruised hearts. And, because she is kind and generous, she said yes. (I mean, you’d hope she did considering you’re reading/listening to it right now. Imagine if she’d said no and I was just like, “TOO BAD, CHUCKLES.”)
I have written it in agony aunt style – as if this were a letter received that I then answered – for a couple of reasons. 1) There was a lot of personal stuff included that perhaps wouldn’t resonate, and 2) there were some things that I wish I’d said but didn’t. So, yes, I’m definitely making myself sound wiser here than I originally did, but hey, that’s my prerogative.
Anyway, it’s a conversation about love, loneliness and the shame we can feel at this belief that somehow we’re doing love wrong – that we don’t ‘get’ it, that we missed a memo somewhere along the line. It’s about feeling as though you have ‘failed at love’.
“I keep getting it wrong”
“I’m getting a bit, I guess, lonely? I have so many wonderful friends – I’m very lucky. I’m good at planning things and seeing people. Yet, I think I’ve realised that I don’t like doing things by myself and that one of my big joys in life is to share an experience with another person. That’s where I’m most happy. Even if we’re just chilling out. Basically: I want a partner to kick around with.
“I’m experiencing a kind of shame and sadness about being so relentlessly single. I’ve started feeling like it must be on me, that I don’t ‘get’ something that everyone else finds easy. I keep finding myself in the same situation with guys – that I either misread stuff with people I do like or end up dating people I don’t really fancy.
“I’m now hitting my 40s and I’ve never been in a proper relationship and I find that quite astounding. The longer it goes on the harder it gets because you feel out of practice, you lose confidence. I start thinking, ‘Is it because I’m ugly?’ or ‘I must be boring’. I’m finding it really hard not to feel sorry for myself. And, yeah, I know there are people out there in terrible relationships or who settled and of course I wouldn’t want that. And, yeah, I know that I have a lot of life left to live and I have a lot of beautiful friends and a lot of freedom to do what I want, when I want… but I want someone I love to do it with.
“I just feel sad about it, I guess. Why can’t I get my shit together and make it happen? The more things don’t work out, the more paralysed I get by all this self-doubt. I then don’t feel good enough to go out into the world and put myself ‘out there’. God, I’m sorry to be such a Debbie Downer. And yes, everything else is good. But I do just want to fall in love. I think when you get older you start focusing on that stuff.
“If life is about loving someone and having them love you, then fucking hell, I am failing so hard. I just want to share my life with someone – and at that, I am failing so badly. I keep getting it wrong. I have so much love to give! I feel like I have this massive, overflowing amount of love inside me and nowhere to direct it. But, I do think someone would be lucky to have me, even though I take rejection so badly. So, so badly. I have to work on that. I have to work on it all.”
Dear Debbie Downer,
You are so not a failure in love.
I wonder, would you ever say that to someone else in your position? Would you ever even think it about someone else in your position? It’s shocking how brutal we can be to ourselves.
You state it as if it were a fact – “I am failing so hard” – when it’s not a fact, it’s just a thought. It is not some fundamental truth, it is just a thought. Our thoughts are wiley bastards that relish any opportunity to lean into our worst and most damaging self-beliefs. They do this to try to ‘protect’ us. To try to ‘keep us safe’. For, if your thoughts can make you believe that you truly are a failure at love then you will stop trying – you will close yourself off to the possibility of receiving love and so no longer risk vulnerability. And that is safer, right? To stay numb. To feel as if you have wrested back control over a situation – finding love – that often feels as difficult to grasp as a dropped AirPod. Don’t let your thoughts trick you into self-sabotaging or slamming on the breaks when you don’t want to.
How can it be a failure to seek love – to believe in it and to want to share the love you have with others? How can it be a failure to put yourself out there, to date, to take romantic risks? How can it be a failure not to settle? Not to measure your worth as, “Yeah, this’ll do.” And yes, you say that sometimes you want to retreat – that’s fine! Everyone can and probably should retreat at times! To heal and comfort themselves. It’s savage out there. But how beautiful to come back and say, “I’m still willing to risk hurt so that one day I get to feel everything.”
How is that anything but a big fat win?
Love is huge – and if you’re loved by family and friends then you’re a queen of it. Lots of people are bad at giving and accepting love, pushing it away because they dislike the taste of vulnerability hitting the back of their throat like cokey petrol. You probably don’t realise that being so loved by so many isn’t easy for everyone because it comes naturally to you. But many people act as if their love is finite while you act as if yours is infinite.
You ended by saying that you have work to do. We all do. I often worry that I’m failing in love with friendships or family. That I don’t ‘get’ something when it comes to certain situations or certain people. I asked a friend recently why she thought that I was still following a mutual pal of ours on Instagram despite the fact that she hadn’t spoken to me in years. Why was I engaging in this cowardly slow-burn phasing out? She said: “Maybe it’s not cowardice, maybe it’s hope.”
What is love if not constant, relentless hope?
Anyone who says love is easy is full of shit. There is no memo, no secret code, no Mason-esque handshake. We all feel like imposters all the time. The fact that you still feel as though you have boundless love to give despite wondering if you should retreat means you could never be a failure. So fuck yes, your future partner will be lucky to have you.
Just One More Thing
Another friend (look at me with all the pals) recently said that they hadn’t realised you could ‘like’ my articles when you read them via email. You can! There is a little heart at the top of the piece, nestled under the headline, that you can click on. It’ll navigate you to the app/website, but you can ignore that – just clicking on it will ‘like’ it. There are also options to share, comment, or restack. Clicking on any of those will encourage the Substack algorithm to promote my work which makes a big difference, so please do consider a click. Ta. (No, there’s no dislike button – get off with you.)
If you enjoy what you read/listen to and would like to buy me a coffee, that would be lush.
*Exceedingly modest reminder that I have written eight bestselling mental-health books which have been translated into at least 10 languages. I’ve also written a book about the TV show Friends which would make a delightful gift for any Friends obsessives. All are available to buy online or at your local bookshop.
You really do write beautifully. I loved this. I have had many conversations like this with my friends. (See, you don't have all the friends, I have some of them too!)