Because for some reason I'm chatty tonight
Someone said to me here today that I sounded like I just want people to cater to me and not do anything in return.
My reply was “Maybe”.
Maybe I do. I come from a long line of narcissists and it wouldn’t be beyond belief that I, too, am one. I do put myself as a priority in my life, or at least try to. Over my lifetime of having put everyone else above me in needs and wants, I figure, at 55, it’s about time I actually started putting myself first. No one else is going to, as I have noticed throughout my life.
I can also see how having boundaries seems like someone being selfish. Boundaries aren’t fun for others who have to deal with them. Boundaries, however, help me determine who deserves to be involved in my life, because I have been so giving and nurturing in the past with little to no rewards. I don’t see it as being bitter, mean or nasty. I see it as working to make sure others treat me the way I treat them.
What you often see here are just my thoughts. They come from me, so, like all things on social media, they are very self centered. But no one online sees how I behave face to face or in text messages.
I spend a lot of my time listening to others, asking questions to let them know that I’m available to talk to and that I’m going to give a sympathetic ear. I empathize with people who tell me about something that happened. I tell stories that let them laugh at me because I’m fully aware, I screw up or do things that really deserve to be laughed at. I talk about my work, the people I come into contact with, my cats, my chickens, my kids, my house, people I work with, friends I have, things that enter my everyday life that I really don’t post about here. I listen to what people tell me and tuck those things into my mind so that I can ask about them later to show them, I paid attention. They matter to me.
So everyone who comes here gets this very cold and somewhat harsh and probably bitter view of me. That’s fair. I can’t argue that I have complained a lot here. I can’t argue that I have been bitchy to people who feel the need to put me in the place they think I need to sit in.
So when I post here, I’m usually exasperated by behaviors that are so dismayingly frequent, it becomes frustrating that people are blind to themselves and what they do and act towards others. Like deciding who to message is like grocery shopping. What do you want to eat for dinner? Who do you want to try to see if they will give you what you want today? They are virtually the same question in the terms of messaging to me.
For instance, I replied to someone yesterday about a message scenario that happens so often, I can literally sing along. He felt I was targeting him. I really wasn’t. I was telling him what, I’m fairly certain, any person who identifies as a woman online has to go through when dealing with the opposite sex. Man says he wants a deep meaningful connection. Woman starts talking. Man instantly starts trying to turn the conversation into sexual chatting. Woman says she isn’t interested and was just wanting to talk and connect. Man says that he totally gets it, then asks a softer question to try and lead it back to sex. Man continually ignores what the woman says and when she tries to change the topic. Man always tries to bring it back to sex, or sexual innuendoes, or flirty chat.
If I had a penny for every time this has happened to me, believe me, I’d be investing in political donations to make the government sway to what I want and not worrying about my billionaire bank account.
Throughout all of that, there is literally no interest in me as a person. No interest in finding out how I tick, except to find out what I like sexually. And honestly, if someone really wanted to know more about me, there is a ton out there to find out. I’m not hiding. (I know…then you don’t get the joy of trying to pry it out of me. I’ev heard that one too a million times. It pads my offshore bank account.)
The one thing that so few men have actually done is read something I’ve written. Considering I will give them a story I’ve written that I used to charge for, for free, it’s around 35,000 words, which should take no more than 2 hours to read, it’s astounding they can’t be bothered.
Do you really want to know me, or not? Because my writing is me. It is filled with my hopes, dreams, how I want a relationship, what kind of man I want and need, and my feelings. So if you don’t even bother to read the first page, I really don’t have time to care about you. If I send it to you and you never take a moment to even tell me you’ve started it, why should I bother to talk to you? You’ve given me no reason to ever believe you are actually interested in me.
Ask me what I’m working on these days? Crickets. It’s a cozy horror witch story, by the way, not that it matters. No one here will ever read it or want to.
So yeah, I do want people to do things for me. I want them to actually show they are interested in me and not my sexual appetite which is seriously no one’s business but my own. So when I’m cold and unfeeling here, it is because I already know, anyone who decides for me that we need to be connected, “friends”, whatever they have decided, they haven’t bothered to think what I want. They haven’t even asked me. They already made the choice for me without even knowing who I am and having zero intention of doing the work to find out. Then expect me to instantly agree with them that yes, we do need a “connection”, “be friends” or whatever and get upset when I have the audacity to not acknowledge that. How very dare me.
Honestly, I don't have time left for people who don’t want to actually show me they are actually interested in me as a fellow person and human being. I don’t have time for people who decide how I want to be treated without even bothering to ask. I don’t have time for people who immediately make assumptions on my meanings instead of asking me questions to find out. I’m getting older. My time is sacred. I'm going to live for me and my wants and needs. Not anyone else’s, until they become a want or need I have.
My reply was “Maybe”.
Maybe I do. I come from a long line of narcissists and it wouldn’t be beyond belief that I, too, am one. I do put myself as a priority in my life, or at least try to. Over my lifetime of having put everyone else above me in needs and wants, I figure, at 55, it’s about time I actually started putting myself first. No one else is going to, as I have noticed throughout my life.
I can also see how having boundaries seems like someone being selfish. Boundaries aren’t fun for others who have to deal with them. Boundaries, however, help me determine who deserves to be involved in my life, because I have been so giving and nurturing in the past with little to no rewards. I don’t see it as being bitter, mean or nasty. I see it as working to make sure others treat me the way I treat them.
What you often see here are just my thoughts. They come from me, so, like all things on social media, they are very self centered. But no one online sees how I behave face to face or in text messages.
I spend a lot of my time listening to others, asking questions to let them know that I’m available to talk to and that I’m going to give a sympathetic ear. I empathize with people who tell me about something that happened. I tell stories that let them laugh at me because I’m fully aware, I screw up or do things that really deserve to be laughed at. I talk about my work, the people I come into contact with, my cats, my chickens, my kids, my house, people I work with, friends I have, things that enter my everyday life that I really don’t post about here. I listen to what people tell me and tuck those things into my mind so that I can ask about them later to show them, I paid attention. They matter to me.
So everyone who comes here gets this very cold and somewhat harsh and probably bitter view of me. That’s fair. I can’t argue that I have complained a lot here. I can’t argue that I have been bitchy to people who feel the need to put me in the place they think I need to sit in.
So when I post here, I’m usually exasperated by behaviors that are so dismayingly frequent, it becomes frustrating that people are blind to themselves and what they do and act towards others. Like deciding who to message is like grocery shopping. What do you want to eat for dinner? Who do you want to try to see if they will give you what you want today? They are virtually the same question in the terms of messaging to me.
For instance, I replied to someone yesterday about a message scenario that happens so often, I can literally sing along. He felt I was targeting him. I really wasn’t. I was telling him what, I’m fairly certain, any person who identifies as a woman online has to go through when dealing with the opposite sex. Man says he wants a deep meaningful connection. Woman starts talking. Man instantly starts trying to turn the conversation into sexual chatting. Woman says she isn’t interested and was just wanting to talk and connect. Man says that he totally gets it, then asks a softer question to try and lead it back to sex. Man continually ignores what the woman says and when she tries to change the topic. Man always tries to bring it back to sex, or sexual innuendoes, or flirty chat.
If I had a penny for every time this has happened to me, believe me, I’d be investing in political donations to make the government sway to what I want and not worrying about my billionaire bank account.
Throughout all of that, there is literally no interest in me as a person. No interest in finding out how I tick, except to find out what I like sexually. And honestly, if someone really wanted to know more about me, there is a ton out there to find out. I’m not hiding. (I know…then you don’t get the joy of trying to pry it out of me. I’ev heard that one too a million times. It pads my offshore bank account.)
The one thing that so few men have actually done is read something I’ve written. Considering I will give them a story I’ve written that I used to charge for, for free, it’s around 35,000 words, which should take no more than 2 hours to read, it’s astounding they can’t be bothered.
Do you really want to know me, or not? Because my writing is me. It is filled with my hopes, dreams, how I want a relationship, what kind of man I want and need, and my feelings. So if you don’t even bother to read the first page, I really don’t have time to care about you. If I send it to you and you never take a moment to even tell me you’ve started it, why should I bother to talk to you? You’ve given me no reason to ever believe you are actually interested in me.
Ask me what I’m working on these days? Crickets. It’s a cozy horror witch story, by the way, not that it matters. No one here will ever read it or want to.
So yeah, I do want people to do things for me. I want them to actually show they are interested in me and not my sexual appetite which is seriously no one’s business but my own. So when I’m cold and unfeeling here, it is because I already know, anyone who decides for me that we need to be connected, “friends”, whatever they have decided, they haven’t bothered to think what I want. They haven’t even asked me. They already made the choice for me without even knowing who I am and having zero intention of doing the work to find out. Then expect me to instantly agree with them that yes, we do need a “connection”, “be friends” or whatever and get upset when I have the audacity to not acknowledge that. How very dare me.
Honestly, I don't have time left for people who don’t want to actually show me they are actually interested in me as a fellow person and human being. I don’t have time for people who decide how I want to be treated without even bothering to ask. I don’t have time for people who immediately make assumptions on my meanings instead of asking me questions to find out. I’m getting older. My time is sacred. I'm going to live for me and my wants and needs. Not anyone else’s, until they become a want or need I have.
