To want to be taken care of is something that most women will not admit to. I can say that I have had everything I've been set up to believe by my female role models tainted because it hurts to admit that I have not yet broken in to the "independent woman" category and probably never will. I need to be taken care of. I don't depend on myself fully to make myself happy. I used to believe that happiness was always within myself but when you've been in as many relationships as I have, all of which have made me feel stronger about being able to find love, you kinda start getting lazy. You start to not believe in people, exactly but believe that there is someone out there who will read your mind.
Then again, it's because you start becoming either more hopeful or more adamant about finding the things you want in someone, or a weird mixture-delicately balanced-between both. I don't depend on myself fully for money, sustenance, and shelter. It might take me a while to get used to being all alone, truly alone and self-sufficient. So this is where the decision about going to study abroad comes from. Should I stay? And find the same old Diana, lingering for another chance to take advantage of, not bettering myself? Or should I go and crash and burn, and be ashes blown away to a different existence, starting from mere dust?
And it's like going to the dentist. The cavity is your insecurity, your reliance on others that goes rotten and you only feel it when the damage is irreversible. So you go, and they put a needle in your mouth. And it stings on that space between your gums and your bone (I think?). But maybe that experience is rewarded ten-fold because when that anesthetic hits, if you've suffered enough, you know you won't feel a thing.