How many times have friends said to you:
“You’re such a good person!”
“You are the ultimate catch!”
“Any guy (or girl) would be so lucky to have you!”
“I can’t believe you’re still single. All these guys (or girls) are just fuck-heads to not see what they have in you!”
“If I were gay…you’d so be my type!”
Any sound familiar? What? You say they all sound familiar? Then WTF? Why are we still single? Is it that there are no “normal” people in the world left to see our worthiness and treasures? Or are our friends lying to us and under their breath saying, “Damn, I love my friend, but fuck…she/he is a train wreck!”
Guy and guy again…they seem to like me. We get along. Yet, they never take it to the next level. I don’t want to be a continual Saturday night fuck. I don’t want to be the Covid-19 stay-at-home arm candy during our crazy 2020 confinement.
“Oh, babe, come over to my place since we can’t really go out and risk getting this friggin’ bat disease! So I may treat you a bit like you’re my girl, because I know at the end of each night together I will be your Yankee Doodle who goes to town riding that pony. I’ll stick a feather in my cap and call you my macaroni dish for the night.”
Um, babe, slow your shit down! I ain’t nobody’s macaroni. So in my head I play reverse psychology and tell myself that I — YES ME! — am the one who wants to go to town and they are just along for the pleasure ride. I will allow him to satisfy me as I chant “macaroni” because after all I am the one who made the call for this booty call. But then I go home, or they leave, and I get caught with my tail in the mouse trap wondering, “Where is my friggin’ feather? He didn’t even heat up my macaroni. Not even luke warm!”
But it’s not that simple to play reverse psychology. I develop feelings. I invest. I’m a romantic. An empath. A lover. A desirer. A pleaser. A supporter. A “pretend-I’m-not-that-into-you-er” and then get that stinging slap in the face when it’s HIM who pulls away. And the tears ensue.
Waaaaaaaaahhhhhh…I want that knight in shining armor riding on the pony (not that simpleton Yankee Doodle). Where is he to sweep me off my feet just like in the movies? Why do I get stuck with these less than dandy boys? I keep falling for boys, mistaking them for men!
Cowboy-less and man-less, I trudge along. BUT…it is time that I take control. That I call the shots. That I realize my worth. That I decide if I want to be with someone or not. That I stop pushing aside all those obvious red flags. And if that means that I am forever a single-lady-serial-dater, then so be it! I need to be bigger than myself, step out of my skin, see the situation as an outsider looking in and ask myself, “Do you consider this interlude a fulfilling and healthy path?”
Let’s make a pact — me and you — and only allow in individuals that will satisfy us in more ways than simply being a pony ride. Deal? Deal.
Please share your stories, thoughts, accomplishments, happiness, strengths, etc. Hearing other’s stories are healing. I will respond back to you. So share!
Quote Therapy 101 