Dear Girl at the Bar via In the Powder Room

Dear Girl at the Bar

You probably don’t remember me. But I remember you. In fact, I don’t think a day has gone by since I saw you that you haven’t crossed my mind.

“Saw you?” That’s probably not the right term. “Stalked you” might be more like it. I could not stop watching you. At some time during the night, I noticed you paying an awful lot of attention to some guy. Which is why I’m writing you this letter today.

When I first noticed the two of you, I assumed you were a couple. Why wouldn’t I? You were draped across him, rubbing his back . . . things like that. But the more I watched, the more I started to see that my initial assumption was incorrect.

This guy just flat out didn’t like you.

I know that may sound harsh, but I have to call it like I see it. The more you touched him, the more he pulled away. The more you asked him to dance, the more he seemed to not want to. You would barge your way into his line of sight, and he would physically turn his body so that he wasn’t looking at you.

I even saw you kiss him at one point, for Heaven’s sake. By this point, you had become a laughing stock among his friends. Once you turned your back to him, he made a show of wiping the kiss off of his face and laughing with the guys about it. I don’t know how else to tell you this, other than to just come out and say it . . .

You made an absolute fool of yourself.

Now, why did your embarrassing scenario strike such a chord with me?

Lord, honey, I’ve been there. I’ve soooo been there.

RELATED: My Top 5 Online Dating Tips

Now, granted, I’ve never planted a kiss on a stranger at a bar, per se. But you know what I have done?

Stayed somewhere I wasn’t wanted.

I have hung around in relationships way past their expiration date. And why? Because I was an idiot. Like you. (No offense.) I thought if I just tried a little harder, maybe he’d finally see me. If I just did this a little better, or that a little better, maybe then he’d finally realize I was worthy of his attention. But you know what?

It never worked. Not once.

What happened when you got home? Did you cry? Wonder what’s wrong with you? Yep. Been there too. I’ve looked at myself in the mirror with such hatred that it was scary. I’ve picked myself apart . . . my frizzy hair, my flawed complexion, my crooked teeth. I’ve yelled at myself for being too demanding, too talkative. Too this. Too that. And why did I do that?

Because some guy didn’t like me. I let some stupid, inconsequential guy’s value of me replace my own value of myself. I adopted his view of me and replaced it for my own.

What an idiot I was. What an idiot you are.

I saw myself in your defeat. You reminded me of how I never want to feel again . . . of how ridiculous it is to place my worth in someone else’s hands.

You reminded me that when I’m loved, I’ll know it. I won’t have to chase it. It will chase me.

And better yet, you reminded me that the real love I should be worried about—is the love I have for myself. Oh, how I hope you learn that lesson one day, too.


One Who Gets It

[P.S. You are waaaaay too good for that guy. He was a dork.]


This piece by Melissa Edmondson originally appeared on her blog, Missy’s Public Junk, in April 2014, and is reprinted with permission In the Powder Room, a division of Hold My Purse Productions, LLC. Featured image © 

Never miss a thing. Follow us on Facebook and Twitter.

Melissa Halsey Caudill is a paralegal by day and writer by night. Okay, not really. She writes all the time. At least in her head. She has had three stories published in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series and writes semi-regularly on her blog, Missy’s Public Junk.

Keep the conversation going...