{toxic friendships and relationships as a teenager}
Ever since I was old enough to pick up a book, I have been a sucker for love stories.
Even before I was able to understand the poetic masterpieces that are John Green novels, I found myself lost in movies like “The Fault in Our Stars,” “The Notebook,” and “A Walk to Remember.” I made a hobby of getting lost in tales of love only brought to a halt by a tragic ending of some sort. One that absolutely shattered my world for the two hour long movie, and a period of time after that. I found myself in need of time to grieve a love that wasn’t even real, let alone my own.
Having always been a hopeless romantic, as I creeped into my teenage years I found myself tangling up in my own kinds of love stories, ones of quick glances from a locker a few feet down and laughter in the gymnasium, an awkward distance between me and the boy whose joke I was laughing at. I was in love with the idea of love. Unfortunately for me, I was also only fourteen years old, returning my freshman year to public school after a year of cyber. I was at one of the most vulnerable, insecure, and naive points of my young life.
When I entered high school, I assumed it would be just like the Disney movies, like Taylor Swift’s “Fifteen,” like High School Musical. I was expecting an overflow of new friends, a newfound popularity, and boys with new licenses and bouquets of flowers at my doorstep. However, what I found was emotionally draining friends, the same social status I left with the year before, and boys with only one thing on their mind.
The friendships I made my first year of high school were ones that forced me out of my comfort zone, but not in the way I’d hoped for. I spent a year struggling with my own identity while getting all wrapped up in theirs; though they were older with years of high school experience that I didn’t have, they were equally as immature, and just as confused as I was. The people around me watched the innocent, kind, responsible girl they knew turn into someone selfish, defiant, rebellious, and even more insecure. I watched the light with which I perceived the world turn a dark grey. And my new friends insisted I’d feel better if I turned to the world to cope; drinking, partying, and boys were the solutions they pushed, and I, being so much younger than them, had no idea how to get out.
This was the year I learned that the relationships I pursued are directly correlated to my own mental health, success, and overall well being.
Friendships weren’t the only relationships that I was struggling with. At fourteen I entered the world of dating, or, more appropriately, the lack thereof. My Taylor Swift-fueled dreams of dinner dates and young love were crushed by the reality of hookup culture. By my fifteenth birthday I realized that my generation was more interested in open relationships, “talking stages,” and someone to take to parties than traditional, “old-school” dating. For a few years I struggled with body image, insecurities, and self worth, worrying that I “just wasn’t good enough” to be a girlfriend. I pursued the boys who seemed least interested in me or a relationship. I chased after the things that seemed farthest from my reach. I learned romantic love to be the pursuit of difficult things, refusing to give up on my dream of romance. And I destroyed my self image in the process.
Finding your way back to yourself is extremely hard, especially in your teenage years. I still struggle at times, and have to take moments to really evaluate the “why” behind my actions. At times I still find my reasons for doing things to be fueled by the opinions and ideas of others. When you’re constantly trying to fit in molds and predetermined ideas of those around you, you lose who you really are. You lose your values and opinions. The ones that are still developing far into your teenage years.
For a long time, I viewed these occurrences as things that “just kept happening to me.” I felt like a drama magnet, attracting every disaster around me, tempting destructive circumstances to cling to me and my body. However, that’s not the case at all.
Sure, some of it I can thank the beloved “high school experience” for. Every girl goes through some kind of heartbreak. But I am the one that made myself a drama magnet.
I made a hobby out of projecting my own desires onto the wrong people. My desire to fit in brought me to give up my own identity to do so; my faith, my personality, even the things and relationships that meant the most to me. This was preyed on by others who didn’t have a clue who they were either. Brokenness attracts more brokenness. And if none of the parties are looking to the right place for help, they feed off of each other.
My desire for love caused me to fall into the arms of the wrong people. I was still a kid, looking for affection from those three or four years older than me. My longing for romantic love drove me into situations I never wanted to find myself in, into the world of people I couldn’t even be myself around. How could I expect a boy to love me when I was so uncomfortable with him that I couldn’t even be myself? And even more so, how could I expect adoration when even I had no idea who I was?
My generation is famous for smacking the word “toxic” onto everyone who has wronged them, but I don’t think that’s it at all. In my experience, we are all at fault for breeding toxicity. Toxic situations, toxic relationships, toxic circumstances. But I have met very few truly toxic people. Because I have been at fault dozens of times, just as many times as the ones who have wronged me. I have been the “toxic” one in someone’s story. But I think we owe each other a little sympathy. As teenagers, we are still growing, and as much as we want to be treated as adults, we are still children. We’re all still figuring things out, and making mistakes every single day. Yes, horrible things do happen. Things that nobody ever deserves to experience, especially at their youngest years. But before we can place blame on others, it is important to confront the person in the mirror first.
Focus in on your own desires before you decide on the ill intentions of another. What are you longing for? Is it something you’re lacking in a component of your life? Before you throw yourself into a new relationship — whether this be platonic or romantic — remember to self-evaluate. If you can’t love and provide for yourself, it’s impossible for another person to love and provide for you. The more you do this in your own life, the easier time you will have recognizing the needs of someone else; and soon, the toxic cycle will stop.
“In my experience, we are all at fault for breeding toxicity. Toxic situations, toxic relationships, toxic circumstances. But I have met very few truly toxic people.”