Can I be wanted?

Once again; I found myself here.

Where I was forced to ask the painstaking question:

Can I be wanted?

My Nana lives with my distant relatives – they’re her caretaker. The only way to see her is at their home. She recently bought a one-way flight ticket to Bangladesh, so I didn’t know whether this will be the last time I will ever see her.

I had to visit her, so I asked the question to the relatives: Can I come over to see her?

BUT for me. What I am really asking is: can I be wanted?

It all starts with the initiation. Me suggesting dates, times etc. Just the act of it alone terrifies me.

“Can we come over tomorrow evening? We really want to Nana before she leaves for Bangladesh,” I texted.

“We’re going to be at your mum’s house tomorrow evening” they responded.

I winced. And braced again.

“How about the afternoon?” I texted back.

“Your mother said to spend the afternoon there.“

There was no meeting me halfway. There were no alternative dates or times suggested. No “what about another day?”. No real sign that this person wanted me.

“Never mind” was my final text. I wanted to abandon first. I didn’t need any more signals that I am not wanted, the pain was just too much.

A few minutes after that text was sent, they called. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I was convinced that they were trying to hurt me.

My husband answered the phone, and he liaised with them on the phone to schedule a date and time.

But even after all this, when we arrived at the house, the feeling of unwantedness did not leave.

I found myself scanning the entire time I was in their presence.
Are you making eye contact?
Are you smiling?
Are you actually engaging? Do you secretly hate me? Do you want to protect yourself from me?
Do you want to say something to me, but you’re too afraid? Do you understand where I came from?

It’s all these signs tell me: I’m not wanted.

Even though no one has said that.
Even though they might not even be thinking it.

But it’s the way I’ve been brought up. I’ve been brought up to feel unwanted. And even worse; that I deserve it. And that has been built into my identity, personality, everything. By the very people they mention casually to me: “My mum” and “My dad”.

This is why I’m always questioning: “Am I really wanted?“