So I’m sweet
A long time ago, as part of Fat Kid Syndrome no doubt, I gave up caring whether people were talking about me. Which, I know they are. But I like to think my awesomeness is so blinding that they cannot see anything else, and they simply marvel at my deity-ness.
Anyway, I passed two people in the hallway today, and when they thought I was out of earshot, one said to the other, “She seems like one of the sweetest people ever put on this earth.”
That made me so happy. People I don’t know, who I just say hello to in passing, having a kind word to say with absolutely no motive or even reason for saying it.
I realize I don’t get invited a lot of places because I’m not part of a “couple,” nor would I ever dare bring a male around my friends who was anything more than a friend.
Because, you know. married/coupled-off women don’t trust single gals and men are too scared to ask for their balls out of their wives’ purses to have a normal conversation with someone who isn’t their betrothed
And because well, I’m “couple” enough on my own, you know? I have a big enough personality that I don’t need to bring someone around for conversation or moral support when I’m perfectly capable of providing my own.
But boy would it be nice to have folks feel they’ve got me “figured out” so maybe I could hang out at the grown-up table with the wine instead of being let home with the babysitter and a sippy cup.
Or maybe being coupled-off still wouldn’t elevate me in anyone’s eyes. I don’t know. I guess when I find out that someone found someone else to love them, I figure they have to have some redeeming qualities I might not be seeing.
Which is why I love when I get complimented just for being me. I think it’s harder to be yourself than to try to be something or someone else. I’ll count this as an “I totally succeeded” kind of day, in that case.