Cultivating Self-Love: Life as a Late Bloomer

I know you've heard of them, and maybe you even know one, but do you know what it's like to be a late bloomer?

I'm not talking about a girl who doesn't go through puberty til her late teens. I'm talking about the kind of person for whom things seem to happen way after they've happened to everyone else.

Confession: I am a late bloomer.

For one, I've never quite felt like I knew what I wanted my future to look like, beyond a few vague ideas involving travel, writing, and dance. I wasn't one of those kids who wanted to be an astronaut, or a CEO. I wanted to see the pyramids in Egypt, write a book, live on the Coast, run a bookstore, and dance in my free time. I also wanted to be a superspy. But nothing concrete.

I went into college thinking I wanted to major in theater (bet you didn't know that about me). I really wanted to make movies, but when it come to making decisions, I couldn't make the right ones for that to happen. After two years at community college, I had my epiphany: I would major in French. A year later, another epiphany came: I would minor in Art History. I took six years to get that degree, something most people do in four (granted, there was a move and varying graduation requirements).

Heading into the workforce, I still had no idea what I wanted to really do. Originally, I wanted to go to grad school and become an Art History professor. Fate stepped in and helped me change my mind, but that left me feeling a bit lost. I'm finally learning to accept that I still don't know where this career is heading, and that maybe I should look at it as a good thing (something that is open to possibilities).

And then there's the fact that I was a late bloomer when it came to my looks. I was a bit of an ugly duckling during my teenage years, no joke. I never wore the right brands, my hair was a mess, I had hideous glasses, and I was overweight and had to wear old lady bras (no such thing as cute full-chested bras back then). Things started looking up when I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time, and started wearing contacts. But I was still overweight, still dowdy.

I have a journal entry from my early twenties where I wrote that I hoped to be a hottie by the time I was 30. I actually felt like one at about 27- I was finally getting my hair under control, I was the thinnest I'd ever been, I was dancing, and running, and could wear dresses and look awesome. Perhaps the years of being and feeling unattractive made me appreciate what I've grown into a bit more.

But then there's the bigger way that I'm a late bloomer. In the romantic department. Have you noticed I don't talk a whole lot about my love life on here? I tend to prefer to keep that part of my life under wraps- it's too vulnerable, and it's bad enough to have my feelings hurt and be let down, but to have them hurt and let down in front of other people is too raw for my liking.

Through junior high and high school, I was not focused on boys at all (granted, I had seen examples of teen pregnancy which kind of freaked me out- a kid would totally ruin my future travel plans).  I also thought boys were kind of awful- they tended to tease and torment and threaten to kill (true story: a boy in 8th grade threatened to kill me in Art class). Or pester in a very uncomfortable way. Boys were bad as far as I was concerned.

One time, in 9th grade, I think, a boy asked me out while we were in the library for English class. I turned him down, fearing that his friends put him up to it as a joke. I really, truly believed no one ould ask me out for real. Looking back, I think it's possible that may not have been the case- we had been sort of friends in 5th grade.

Did I mention I went stag to prom? One of the prom princes pity-danced with me during one of the last songs, which was sweet. I had never met him, never known who he was before then, but he was friendly with me and I appreciated the kindness. Pretty sure one of my friends who was a prom princess put him up to it. He went on to be a firefighter, which I thought fitting. Sometimes princes turn out to be good guys.

In college, I was focused on getting straight A's. I didn't get them (hard to when you get a B in Drama 201 the first semester), but I did graduate summa cum laude. Needless to say, dating, and most socializing (though I managed to make some great friends) was not a concern of mine. I also still felt like an ugly duckling.

So when did I start dating? Age 28. Some people think that's weird. I call it being a late bloomer. There's a reason Persuasion is my favorite Jane Austen. I also love stories about people finding love later in life, because it means it could still happen for me.

That's the thing: all along, I've wanted to be loved. I've wanted someone to fall in love with me- I just never really thought it could happen to me (in the past, I've had a hard time believing good things could happen to me).

And here I am, 31, with only one relationship under my belt, still wondering if it will ever happen to me. I've yet to hear the magic words, and still have so many firsts to uncover. Just this week, I faced yet another rejection, and I can tell how far I've come by how well I handled it.

See, that's another way I'm a late bloomer- I'm 31 and just now learning how to love myself. Rejection doesn't mean there's something wrong with me, that I'm ugly, or that I did something wrong. It just means that it wasn't a good fit. I'm finally feeling good about who I am and what I have to offer, and yeah, it may have come later in life than it did for others, but it's here now, and it's growing.

That's right, guys. I'm blooming.

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