(2) What I realized when I thought 'I'm not worth it' | You can rebuild your vessel

Prologue: I felt uncomfortable

When I was treated with care,
I felt uncomfortable.

Even though I should have been happy.

“Am I really allowed to be treated this kindly?”

What came after being treated kindly
was not joy, but guilt.

My vessel was so warped
that I didn't know how to receive kindness.

Chapter 1: Being eroded

Where does this feeling come from?
My fragile OS seems to have the wrong measure for kindness.

Normally, when someone is kind to you,
you should accept it honestly,
and want to return the favor just as much.

But somewhere inside, I felt
that I didn't deserve to receive such favors.

Am I even a person worthy of that?

I end up thinking things like that.

As expected, it goes back to my mother's words.

I am already being eroded.

You are no good equals everything

Chapter 2: 'I'm not worth it' follows me

How I receive kindness
followed me in all my relationships,
whether with friends or boyfriends.

The words that follow there are 'I'm not worth it.'

It's my low self-esteem on full display.
Words that come out because I have no confidence in myself.

That's why when I'm treated kindly, I feel bad about it.
And I, too,
would get the measure wrong
on how to be kind to the other person.

Words and actions that seemed to doubt or test our friendship.
I didn't know how to measure affection, so I took away his freedom.

Perhaps,
I was a heavy friend,
a heavy girlfriend.
Misunderstandings of kindness happen in this way.

Chapter 3: I kept letting go

There were relationships
that might have worked out if things were different.

I didn't know how to return what I was given,
and I would feel guilty.

The other person would think, even if I'm kind to this person,
they won't accept it,
so I won't give anymore.

I think it's healthy for people to be equals.
You cannot build a healthy relationship
with someone you feel guilty toward.

If I had known how to receive kindness,
if I had truly known how to be cherished.

I had been letting go all along.

Epilogue: Sturdily, carefully

I am allowed to be cherished.
I told myself.

I rebuilt the vessel to receive kindness.
Sturdily, carefully.


A drinking party with friends.
He, who goes the same way home,
always asks as we leave.
“Can I come over today?”

At first, I would answer, “Sure.”
Blowing away my hesitation.

But he asks again today, “Can I come over today too?”
The him I want.

I, who no longer want the object.

Without a moment's hesitation,
I brush him off, saying, “It's late today, see you later.”

So this is what it meant to cherish someone.



Your OS can be rewritten.


But you don't have to do it alone.

▶ Previous story
“My OS was made by my mother”

▶ Read the series together
“Stories from when I thought 'I'm not worth it'” magazine