The Struggles Of Meeting The Right Person 10 Years Too Soon

Agnes Stenlund

Have you ever met the right person 10 years too soon? Have you ever been hit by the incredibly rare fist of love at the direly wrong time?

Have you ever met someone who attained the ability to knock the wind out of you, who blew you away — but you just weren’t quite yet ready to exhale into the arms of true, real love just quite yet?

Have you ever met the “right” person, the person whom you could clearly visualize the great, vast vista of your future with?

The one person whose dreams are perfectly cohesive with your dreams, the person who brings out the very best in your complicated and dynamic personality and, on top of it all, the person whom you are undeniably, irrepressibly, die-hard-s*xually attracted to?

The person who deeply understands you, not in a superficial way but comprehends the very core of who you are.

The person who has the ability to see right through your web of bullsh*t, your protective outer layer, your sky-high walls of brick and steel.

The person who understands where your pain is derived from and accepts the myriad of flaws you can’t help but endlessly bestow upon the world.

The person who embraces the screw-ups and dysfunctions of your f*cked-up brain, even the really bad parts that drive almost everyone who has been close to you away.

That one person who makes you finally feel unconditionally loved. The person who makes you feel something so unfamiliar: safe.

The person you know would never, ever, not in a million trillion years want to intentionally hurt you.

What happens when you meet this incredible creature out of the blue?

Suddenly, you found your other half, the one and only person your usually notoriously dark and slyly cynical self has ever imagined perhaps marrying…

Only it’s 10 years too soon, and you’re just not ready for all that.

Because you still have so much bad left within you.

So many sins you’re still fueled with the desire to salaciously indulge in, so many adventures you want to embark on solo, so many new lips to taste, so many bodies to s*xually devour, so many f*ck-ups to still get out of your system.

You’re in your 20s. You’re still self-destructive and okay with it (in fact, you enjoy it). You’re not ready to settle down and be civilized.

Because you’re young. And free. And way too deep of a tender age to find a soulmate.

A soulmate isn’t on your current agenda. Your career, and your friends and your wild, insatiable adventures are your focus.

You still have so much living to do, as an independent force of nature. You know you’re not in a stable enough place for a relationship. This just wasn’t supposed to happen.

But that’s life isn’t it? As much as we fiercely attempt to control the timing of everything, we can’t.

We can’t schedule the convenient time to fall in love.

There are so many complicated, hellish feelings that overtake your being when you meet the right person… 10 years too soon.

You’re always teeming with anxiety

So you’ve met this wonderful, outrageously perfect person — but you just don’t want a relationship. You’re riddled with epic heaps of anxiety — what if you never meet someone so amazing again?

What if this is it? What if you screw it up and die alone because you pushed away your one shot at true love?

But at the same time, you relentlessly fear wasting your precious youth shackled to a partner.

These are the years when you’re allowed to be reckless, for soon you will be in the place where the incessant one-night stands and weekly whiskey blackouts just won’t be cute anymore.

Soon you will have a real life, adult responsibilities and might not be free to hop a plane and impulsively fly to an exotic location just because you felt like it.

You’re damned if you do and f*cked if you don’t. You actually feel things for this person, and you’re not used to it.

You’re not used to feeling vulnerable to another person. You’re not used to caring for another entity more than yourself.

You feel utterly panicked by the prospect of losing yourself to another person yet terrified by the prospect of losing this person. Forever.

The result is endless anxiety that cuts so deep, a Xanax can’t even calm your fluttering heart.


You wish you could lock this person in a box for the next decade.

If only you could put this person on pause. You know he or she will be the perfect partner for you, once you’re ready for all of that relationship stuff.

You know this person will give you the life you absolutely deserve, provide you with a stable, loving relationship and be a great parent to the children you will one day produce.

If only you could put this person in a little box for the next decade so he or she won’t go anywhere (or fall in love with someone else) while you go off being young and self-destructive.


You try your hardest to push this person away.

It’s easy to break up with someone when you don’t love him or her.

After all, you’ve never struggled to end a relationship in the past — so why, dear WHY is this so hard? What are these feelings you’re suddenly experiencing?

So you unconsciously do everything in your power to push this person away, to make it easier on the both of you.

I mean, if he or she breaks up with you, then it’s out of your control, right? You can throw up your hands and give up.

If you act like a complete horror, an absolute sh*t show, then this person will surely break it off, and then you won’t have to choose between your relationship and your blooming solitary youth, right?

The screwed up part of this screw-up method is if it’s indeed the right person, it (usually) doesn’t work.

That’s the trouble with someone getting you: He or she sees past your bullsh*t — this person knows what you’re doing and won’t let you get away with it.


You unfairly resent this person and hate yourself because of it.

The resentment sets in. You’re in love. You don’t want to be in love. You hate this person and yourself for it.

You’re fueled with the ugly trait of resentment. You resent the fact that your lover is so mind-blowingly incredible, so deeply understanding, so perfect for troubled little you.

You resent that he or she swooped into your safe, lonely orbit and made you feel this weird warm thing called love when you were so happy and content being a selfish, destructive individual.

You resent that this person is exposing all the parts of yourself you have worked so desperately to hide from the outer world.

You resent that you showed this person who you really are, and you resent that this person still loves you even though he or she knows the dark parts of you.

Mostly, you resent this person because he or she took your power away. You finally have something to lose, and it scares the living sh*t out of you.

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