One of the most memorable things my best friend, Lydia, ever told me was during a discussion about what we thought our greatest strengths and weaknesses were. I came up short - didn't know what to say - not because I thought I had none of either, but because I didn't feel like an answer such as "art" and "English" and other academia would suffice or even be appropriate. Sure, I'm pretty good at a few hobbies like drawing and I'm decent at math, but I'm not exceptional at anything, I felt. At the same time, I don't really think I suck butt at anything in particular either. Except maybe music. I've never been good at music. Oh and sports. Sports can go die in a hole.

And then Lydia delivered this gem: "Your greatest strength is your capability to love." She said she'd never met anyone who could love so many people so much, and often right off the bat too. It brought us back to how we had met - two quiet little freshman at a new school during a day full of icebreakers, and I went up to her because we were both standing alone (and she looked friendly! and pretty!) and somehow that developed into the friendship we have today.

But she then followed up that statement saying that my greatest weakness was also my capability to love. She thought that I could easily be taken advantage of, and she reminded me of a once-friend who I had cared for deeply and yet never gave me the time of the day after she had graduated. She told me she had disliked her, tolerated her for my sake. "You're too good for her," Lydia said. "I never understood why you cared about her so much when she clearly didn't care nearly as much for you."

Sometimes I wonder if the reason I'm so bad at loving myself is because I've given out all my love to others already. Not that I think that my love can run out - I make new friends all the time, and I still love them so much, so clearly that isn't actually the case. But I have a constant stream of negativity coming from my own head all the time. It used to be the mantra that my parents would give me: Try harder. You can be better. You can and should be the best. (Mind you, none of it was intended to be hurtful, just motivating.) Later, the statements warped and turned harsher and more ridiculous as little me grew up into teenage me: Why aren't you the best. Why aren't you winning any of the school awards. Why can't you try harder in school. Why do you still have a B+ in English. Why can't you be a better artist, you're so untalented. Why are you so fat. Why can't you be beautiful. Why is no one ever attracted to me. Lately, a lot of them have died down (Like the B+ thing in English. Man, I was really obsessive over that one scar on my gradebook.) but I had about a month last semester when one ridiculous thought prevailed.

What if my friends don't actually like me, and they just put up with me because I come around and visit all the time.

I know, I know, literally this is probably the dumbest thing to think to yourself ever. But I think because I moved off campus this past semester and so I have to actively put effort into meeting up with my friends and seeing them, instead of just being like oh hey, you live here, I live here, yay friends, I started becoming insecure about the strengths of my friendships.

So a little background about my friend groups: I have my MacGregor F-entry friends (best entry ever!) who I lived with, my Architecture friends who I basically live with, my EC friends who I met through Julie (who I met through Freshman Arts Program waaaaayyyy back when), and then my Dramashop and Asian Dance Team friends who I just do extracurricular stuff with.

Bet you can guess which group I felt insecure about.

Nope, not the F-entry people. We know so much about each other and have put up with so much of each other's shit already, I doubt they can get tired of me now that I don't even live with them. Besides, no one else puts up with nearly as much of V's crazy as I do. I love her dearly.

And no, not the Architecture people. We see so much of each other and we still have to see so much of each other, even if we actually hated each other's guts we'd set it aside because of all the great quality time we spend together crying in studio.

Yep, the EC people. The friends that I had met through another friend, and who didn't actually have real ties with me - there was no "lived together so can't get tired of me" fallback with these people. There were no late nights in studio to bond over (Except Julie. We bonded over Skylar and Lorena because she took the first two studios with me.) And these were friends that I had gotten closer to later, and spent less time with regularly simply because back then I lived across campus.

They were also the group of people that lived in the dorm on the way home from studio. So naturally, they ended up being the people I visited most often during this past semester.

And when November came around, and I realized that I visited MacG less than once a week and EC once or twice a week, I started to worry about what if my EC friends get tired of me. What if they're just putting up with me because I'm a sad little homeless person who lives 20 minutes away now. What if. What if. What if.

And its literally not any of my friends' faults that I thought this. There was no trigger. There was no reason for me to think like that. I was just stressed, under a ton of pressure, and my nitpicky destructive brain just reared back its head and bit as hard as it could.

There was about a week and a half where I literally just cried nonstop. And I couldn't explain it. I'd be perfectly okay in studio, or lying in bed at night, or sitting and wasting time on reddit and tumblr to just forget about everything for a little bit, and suddenly the tears would come.

And at the end of this week and a half was really just a tv date with Stephen, where we watched Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. together and then proceeded to watch two more movies, and the next day when I thanked him for just spending that time with me because I had been down, and he replied with "np... any time. seriously, feel free to just show up or hang out if you ever feel down. we <3 you." And that was it. That was all I needed to hear (or read, actually) and I immediately felt better.

Looking back on the whole ordeal, I know that I really just lack the confidence to believe that I'm liked among my friends. Because of that insecurity, I desperately crave that kind of affirmation, even though logically I know that my friends care for me and that they wouldn't spend time with me if they didn't like me. (Except my architecture buddies. They're stuck with me for now whether they like it or not.) It might be part of the reason why I love others so much - I think a tiny little piece of me is selfish enough to believe that if I love others enough, eventually someone will come to love me too.

So that's why my resolution for this next year - or at least semester - is to learn to love myself a little more. Learn to not crave the affirmation of my friends' love for me. Learn to believe in myself a little more. Learn to fight back to the destructive part of my head.

And I know that I'm not the only one with ridiculous insecurities. I'm not the only one who doubts themselves constantly.

I think everyone could use a little loving themselves too.


Let me know what your New Year's Resolution is in the comments!