A man told me once that I was addictive.
I was feeling cheeky and replied, Yes, I know. Or something like that.
He responded with, "You knew?? You could have WARNED me!!"
And I said, Where's the fun in that?
Then I started thinking. (A dangerous pastime, I know.)
I started wondering if this was something I needed to worry about, or try to control. (Because I'm a minor league control freak. It's what I do.) Should I restrict myself somehow, so people are less likely to get addicted to me? What would that look like?
I know what it would look like. The reason for becoming what I had become was different than this approach would be, but it would end the same. I did it to myself in my previous marriage.
I would stop flirting with guys, and stop talking with anybody about anything fun, interesting, or personal. I would stop trying to look good. I would stop going out.
I would die.
Then I realized, I can't change myself to save other people. Just like any drug, I am just being who I am. If that makes me addictive to some people, then so be it. I am not responsible for their choice to love me, or become addicted to me, or anything of the sort, and trying to take that responsibility would destroy this lovely person I've finally rediscovered after two years of searching. And doing it knowingly would be all kinds of wrong, like murder almost.
So I did something completely out of character. I stopped trying to save everybody else. I let it go.
I'm free to be who I am, no worries.