what’s your game?

from Tumblr

It’s recently come to my attention that I have a game I like to play.

Apparently I like to make people need me. I believe the direct quote was “You make people fall in love with you, then you just use them at your disposal.”

Well I’ll be damned.

That one, truthfully, hurt a little bit to hear.

My entire life, I think I really liked the whole, “grow up to be a princess” thing. In fact I still totally do. I buy into the “man – come here and take care of me” thing because I like alpha males. My little munchkin I watch calls me “Princess” now and honestly it was like the greatest day of my babysitting-life. I love Disney movies. I really, really hate chick flicks but I really, really love war movies, because I love the men in those movies. The heroes.

It never really occurred to me that part of the whole Princess thing is not just getting catered to, but the whole “You make people fall in love with you, then you just use them at your disposal.” Well, I did know. But I didn’t think it was that bad on my part. I honestly didn’t.

And maybe it’s not that bad, but I was told that, and it’s been bothering me for about a week now so obviously I do care about it. Even if it came from somebody that really shouldn’t be saying it to me.

Being called a manipulative bitch hurts.

This whole self reflection thing – it’s working. Slowly but it’s working. But nothing really hurt as much as that one did, to be honest. Being acutely aware of how you’ve hurt somebody really sucks, mostly because you can’t feel bad about it since it’s really them that have the license to be mad about it.

At a certain point, I know a person can’t be all good, and a lot of people are all bad. I had a real rough patch there, of being mostly a bad person. Learning to re-evaluate what I see? That’s what changed I guess.

My dad got cancer and then my dad died and I’ve had all these horrible things happen that, relatively speaking, could’ve been so much worse, and I could’ve continued to dwell on it and pity myself and hate myself and never recover from it. But one day I decided to see the beautiful parts of the ugliest situations and it all changed. Mostly it was what kept me alive everyday for a good year – it made each day matter. But changing my perspective, I like to think, made me into a better person. Into a good person.

To hear that maybe I’m not as good of a person as I think I am, hurt.

It doesn’t discredit all the things I’ve worked on, but it hurt.

But everything happens for a reason. Or at least, I have to believe that or else none of it matters.

Anyways, Mr. TruthBullet,  point is I’m trying.

Also that I like being a Princess. But I’ll try and be more gracious, as a Princess should be.

But also, fight a war for me, if you feel that strongly for me – all that pent up anger has to come from somewhere, so if you’re trying to prove something to me, do it. If you hate me that much though, then let me go.

————————————

I’m in a weird mood. Mr. TruthBullet put me in a weird mood. In a weird “I’m feeling sorry for myself” mood, even though I shouldn’t be.

I want to crawl into a nook with blankets and candles and never come out. That’s partially because of the cold weather. It’s blanket season, y’all!

OK – head up, shoulder’s back, let’s get the rest of the day done.

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