You told me, “Anyone would be so lucky to have you”.
But you looked away when you uttered it, as though looking deep inside my eyes made it harder for you to turn this lie into a truth.
And of course, it did.
Why did I believe you when you said, “Anyone would be so lucky to have you”, when I knew that the moment you found out it’s you that I wanted, somehow the meaning behind your sentence changed, and you realised that there were two words that you forgot to add at the end of your sentence the first time you said it to me.
As well as the second time. And the third.
“Anyone would be so lucky to have you… but me.”
I mean, that is what you actually meant, isn’t it?
Why else did your eyes play cat and mouse with mine the moment those words left your mouth?
Why else did you stutter when I reminded you of that late Sunday afternoon when we were having a light-hearted conversation about life, and I was giggling at your good-natured teasing before you went completely silent.
After a moment, you inhaled, and when you exhaled, those words sighed out of your mouth, as though nature called it, “Anyone would be so lucky to have you.”
But 3 weeks down the line, your sounded uneasy, as if it was hard to get any words out of your mouth when I mentioned it. You no longer remembered, or wanted to remember, what you said. Or why you said it.
Why else did you change the topic every time I brought it up afterwards?
Because if you really meant the first part but not the last — the invisible part which followed after your silence on the topic whenever it came up again — then you would’ve finished it off the right way.
“Anyone would be so lucky to have you….including me”
And I want to accept the beauty of this. I truly want to accept it.
I want to think that when a man says these words to me then he really means it and this, in itself, is enough to prove to me that I am extremely special.
But why should I accept such a conceited phrase, even if a man added ‘including me’ at the end and meant it?
The truth is, I’m so tired of being the person that associates my worth with the amount of appreciation, or lack thereof, that other people have for me. Especially men who think that they can toss “Anyone would be so lucky to have you”, in my direction and somehow fixate their idea in my mind.
They have in the past.
I have heard this phrase time and time again by men who have no intention of being that “anyone”, but somehow manage to get inside my head, and perhaps my heart, creating this glorious image in my mind of how I think they view me. Or how much I believe they admire me. Or how much I feel they want me.
Well, he did say, “Anyone would be so lucky to have you”, and it wasn’t just once. He said it a few times. Not even once or twice, but three times!
Surely that must mean something, right?
The truth is a big, fat no.
It pains me that as independent and strong-headed women who preach about feminism and equality, and the inability of a man to fulfil a woman because she is complete in herself, we still succumb to falling deep into the traps of men who know just what to say to us to keep us feeling a certain way about them.
Because you know — oh, deep down we know — that the sentence, “Anyone would be so lucky to have you”, has been used frequently by the same person on various women.
And even if it hasn’t been, even if it turns out that this is the first time this particular man has used this line on a woman and that woman turns out to be you, you still know that these words are just means to a bigger end of trying to keep you interested for as long as they want, until they want.
Yet, you believe those words anyway as though your worth depended on it. As though your conviction that you are truly beautiful woman who will love and cherish your partner is dependent on a guy you have just met, confirming that your future partner will indeed be lucky to have you in his life.
Shouldn’t you already know how worthy you are in yourself, as well as how capable you are of being loved by someone else, without being convinced by a third person of this? That too, a man who has no idea what he’s talking about?
Aren’t you certain that your partner will be extremely, irrevocably and indeed lucky to have you in their life?
I mean, come on — just look at you.
Your’re an absolute queen!
I guess what I’m trying to say is that this unending cycle of being reeled in enough to be reeled back out again, as though we were a yo-yo instead of capable young women who know their worth, in the hands of men who suffer from commitment phobia, really needs to stop.
I want to be able to speak to a man without being fed typical flirtatious lines because of his perverse view that this is the only way that he can keep me interested. Or that somehow I need to hear the sentence, “Anyone would be lucky to have you”, in order to truly believe that I’m worthy.
I’ve had enough of being told that, “Anyone would be lucky to have you”, believe me, I already know that and I don’t need a man who isn’t capable of following through his words with dedicated actions. Nor do I need someone who doesn’t understand the implications of his words.
In fact, I don’t need any man to convince me because, believe me, I am already know that anyone would be lucky to have me.
I want to know why I would be lucky to have you.
Why should I easily believe you when you tell me, “Anyone would be lucky to have you”, with a certainty in your eyes, when you haven’t managed to convince me at to why I would be lucky to have you?
So tell me, what do you bring to the table?
Because if you’re only as deep as your words go, then honey, you’ve got to go.
About the Creator
Ruby Dhal is a speaker, performer and author of 5 books of poetry, prose and bite-sized self-help. With a social media following of over half a million and millions of impressions on Instagram, Ruby has access to readers everywhere.
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