Label Me

Humans are judgmental creatures.  They believe what they hear, jump to conclusions, and slap a label on someone before getting to know them.  I try not to live this way.  I'm not gonna lie, I DO judge people right away, I just don't let my judgement of them be the final decision in my getting to know them.  I look beyond that.    I've been slapped with a pretty fantastic label myself.  It's official.  I'm a home wrecker.

I prefer friendships with men.  I relate better to them than I do woman, they are not as emotional or needy (well, most of them aren't anyway).  I'm a flirt.  I flirt shamelessly with most men.  I think it should be an Olympic sport, if it were, I may win a metal.  It makes me feel good about myself, it makes them feel good about themselves, in my eyes, it's a win-win.  Flirting does not mean that I want to sleep with your man honey.  These may be some of the things that have lead me to this label.  I'm not gonna change who I am to appease the insecure women in this world.

It doesn't help me that I don't know too many people around here.  I don't know their history, I don't know their relationship status.  I'm being blamed for a few relationships heading south.  And I'm not responsible for any of it!  Heck, one guy I'm linked to, I haven't even been in the same room as!  Oh well!  Say what you will, believe what you want.  At the end of the day, I know the truth.

I have no intentions of changing my behavior and becoming someone I'm not to appease the haters.  So hate on girls!  In the meantime, I'll continue to check references and have a good time.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Blowjobs in the living room?

I've never felt so heartbroken. I know how much I love. I don't know how someone could betray me so deeply, and look me in the eye. I know I'm worth more than that.  And to have the two closest people become two people who's trust I have to question.  Heartbroken understates how I feel.
Read more

Self Esteem

I developed sooner than most girls my age.  I had boobs in fourth grade.  This fact always made me very self conscious.  The boys picked on me relentlessly.  I was weird, different.  I didn't fit.  I've never really thought I was beautiful or worth much.  I can recall specific things from my teenage years that caused me great grief. One night in middle school, my best bud decided she wanted to do my make-up before we went out for the night.  She decided to do my make-up to accentuate my lips.  I always thought my eyes were my best feature, she agreed but said that's why we should try to bring out a different feature.  When she was finished, I thought I looked beautiful.  I felt beautiful.  We finished getting ready and headed downtown.  Within minutes of being downtown, someone hollered at me, "look at her boobs!  What a freak!"  Instantly, I felt sad and out of place again. Another time...  I had a crus...
Read more

NINE DAYS

Image
9 more days....  NINE!  Holy fuck!  When I committed to this 13.1 mile race, it seemed like it was worlds away.  Now it's only NINE DAYS!  I've put some miles on my feet, they are still sore from my last long run 4 days ago.  My quads are ripped, my legs feel strong.  I can do this!  But HOLY FUCK I'm nervous! I'm obsessed with this race.  What am I supposed to eat for the next week?  I know I'm not supposed to run, but can I exercise?  What if I trip at the start?  Look at all those people!  What am I going to wear?  What if I don't like my playlist for the race?  GAHHH! I read today's Cellcom newsletter this morning and I got so nervous I thought I was going to puke.  Then I cried.  Dear Lord, this next week is going to be a long one.  But in 10 days, I will be able to say, "I did it."
Read more