Forcing a post (1)

It’s the second week in a row that I’ve been a day late to post. I’d love to blame it entirely on the big data course, but it’s been a busy weekend, volunteering with a community-building group. 

I came across an interesting quote on Tumblr a while back and I haven’t stopped thinking about it:

“Just because somebody doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with everything they got”


As an uptight bitch, this is revelationary to me. I’m a selfish person and I have a state-of-the-art, military-grade defense-mechanism when it comes to feelings – which my mom has been interpreting as extremely high standards for my partner – so letting myself fall for someone is not easy. Letting my walls down is not something I can do. I overthink things. I have a lot going on outside of my personal life. These are all factors for a Hurricane-Katrina-times-President-Donald-Trump love life.

So I’ve let this sit in the back of my mind and I’m trying to trick myself into bringing it to my prefrontal cortex (assuming Wikipedia is correct in saying that this is the decision-making, personality-shaping thinger in my thinker). It could easily be confused for “lowering your standards” but it’s nothing like that. It belongs more to the virtue I’ve been touting so much lately: empathy. It’s understanding the other person, how they think, and basing their actions on that. It’s not holding another person to the same over-thought, critical standards I hold myself to.

But what if it’s not enough?

I guess that’s when it’s grounds for breaking up, but that’s nothing I should be worrying about right now aaaaand I’m getting ahead of myself (once again).

The second half of this blog pertains to something that’s been bugging me for a long time, submerged in a sea of other thoughts but just visible from the surface, and nearing:

I think, deep down, I’m a bad person.

Okay, I’m philanthropic, I volunteer – fuck, I just got featured on two of the country’s biggest newspapers for my volunteerism – , and I try. I try – I really fucking do – to make the world a better place. I can’t help but notice when someone at a party is quiet or alone, and I’ll go over and chat with them.

But I’m convinced to the core that I’m a bad person. And once people see this ugly side of me, everything positive that I’ve ever done will be tainted black.

I think I do a good job of limiting how much time I spend with people, before I lose patience and become selfish – selfish with my time, with my attention, with my tolerance. I’ll get irritable. I’ll snap.

I also see flashes of my ugly side when I’m (subconsciously) desperate to fit in. For example, when I’m in a group of bros, I tend to cover up my liberalism and my adherence to PC-ness will loosen. It’s like I’m on autopilot and also trying to adapt. At the cost of my own values.

No, it’s not right to abdicate your hard-fought, hard-learned values to “fit-in”. But I think sometimes building social rapport is necessary. Not at the cost of agreeing with a Trump-supporter, but I would let one-offs slide. We don’t have to be calling out straight white men every waking second…

Side fucking bar: I was out a few weekends ago at a friend’s concert and had met a (definitely not straight) girl, as a mutual friend. We were chatting outside the venue, getting liquored up, when she brought up a spoiled, privileged brat she’d tutored in highschool. I, tipsily (???), joked “was he whiiiiite?”. She clapped her hands, hijacked my all-inclusive cruiseship, rechristianed it S.S. Oppressed Minorities, armed it with cannons, and started firing at my straight white male friend for absolutely no reason! She rubbed his white privilege in his face and went on a spiel about oppression – while we were pre-drinking for a concert. wHy?Yyyy? He was just standing there, chatting with us, and you decided to flip shit and throw shit at him as though he was wearing a swastika tank top and screaming “white power!”. He walked away, refusing to put up with this bullshit, and as she turned to me for a high-five, I gave her my two-cents on bringing shit like this up at a time like this. After telling her off, I walked away, fuming to my friend at how inappropriate that was. Man, people like her give feminists a bad name. 

Anyway, my buried shittiness isn’t getting resolved tonight. This post is going off the rails. But at least I wrote something?



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