“It’s not you, it’s me.” Five little bitty words feel like the weight of a million. Five words creating a passive blow off, the generic way to let someone down with ease. It’s worse than “can we still be friends?” because at least this is honest.
The few times I’ve suggested it was me rather than him, I stated this in efforts to avoid bruised feelings. It felt more appropriate rather than saying, “Hey, I really don’t know what it is, but I know you’re not the one.” It’s hard to argue with this age old excuse. Being the receiver of this message inserts doubt in myself. Am I not thin enough? Pretty enough? Smart, kind, funny, fun enough? It plants the seed of insecurity because it is vague and well, a lie. Insecurity could be avoided if “you’re not the one” replaced the “it’s not you, it’s me.” Please, shoot me straight. I prefer brutal honesty over a sugar-coated copout. The truth may sting, but eventual truth always hurts more. Vagueness creates insanity. It forces smart women to make allowances rather than owning up to the cold hard truth of “he’s just not that into you.” We (I am guilty of it) think of reasons why the feeling isn’t mutual: he’s scared, he’s been hurt, he’s busy, whatever. When it’s real, you jump in despite the fear, the hurt, the agenda, the whatever.