Tuesday, June 21, 2011

I get to be selfish. Fact. That's not even disputable.

Being single for me means that I spend my free time with other women. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around. Either way, I seem to get myself into a lot of conversations with women who have relationship questions. Am I the only one who finds it completely absurd that anyone would ask ME for advice?

I've started using the following disclaimer:

"Please understand that I am exactly the wrong person to ask. I am divorced and can't keep a relationship going to save my life with exception of my kids who I guarantee you would divorce me if they could afford the right lawyers. If you plan on using this information for anything I would recommend you make me your example of What Not To Do."

Sometimes though, even a relationship disaster like myself finds the perfect match. As it turns out, I am my perfect match. I jokingly (not really) mentioned this to one of my people the other day and was met with, "Right, well you get to be selfish. You don't worry about anyone except yourself. You don't know what it means to find that one person you would put before yourself and know that making them happy would make you happy."

I would like to set a few things straight.

1. I get to be selfish. Fact. That's not even disputable. You can be selfish too. You aren't. Not my fault.

2. I don't worry about anyone except myself.  I assume that you're a complete spineless twit that focuses on everyone EXCEPT yourself so that you can play the role of martyr by giving and giving and givinggggggg until you can't squeeze in time to give yourself a freaking pedicure. Fair enough, moving on.

3. I don't know what it means to find that one person I would put before myself and know that making them happy would make me happy. It's true. The reason for my failure to produce another husband over the course of the last 11 years is due to my complete lack of desire to make others happy. I've never once considered how it would feel to bring happiness to another's life. Ask my kids. They are down trodden, mostly naked on any given day, and have threadbare sheets on their beds. I also get the wrong Ramen Noodle cups just because I enjoy causing them pain.

So all of that being said, please understand that I am exactly the wrong person to blah blah freaking blah. Ladies, get yourself a pedicure. It's okay at the end of a busy day to say, "I need 20 minutes to myself that doesn't involve wiping a face, an ass, a table, or the dishes before I scream." Life isn't always about doing things for others that will make them happy or fill their void or address their needs. Sometimes it's about giving yourself a little bit of attention so that you aren't that raging homicidal/depressed/bawling mess that walks out on their family from sheer frustration. Chances are, if you found that special person who you would put before yourself and know that making them happy will make YOU happy... they would rather have you stick around awhile. Hell, they might even like YOU enough to pay for the pedicure or God forbid, wipe the table.
My Zimbio
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