No, actually I don’t want to sleep with you


I have a problem.  I’ve recently started telling the truth.

I’ve always proclaimed that I’m not concerned about popularity and the number of followers I have on Instagram, but the truth is that I really do want people to like me.  I want people to like me so much that I’ll compromise my own contentment to make them happy.  This can take many forms from agreeing with somebody’s extremely distorted view of reality to fucking someone I don’t like all that much.  Years of people-pleasing has made me a stranger to myself.  I’m no longer sure if I do things because I genuinely want to do them, or because someone else wants me to do them.  I’m not sure if what I say is truly how I feel, or how someone else wants me to feel.

Consequently I’ve crash-landed in situations that have left me completely miserable and drained. Yet I still try my hardest to go along with it just to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.  Unfortunately I possess this destructive hope that with more effort I’ll feel what they feel and want what they want.  This backfires every fucking time.

So…for the last couple months I’ve been testing a new experiment called honesty.  My logic initially was that if I am truthful about what I am thinking or feeling, no matter how much it might not be what the other person wants to hear, then they’ll ultimately respect me more because I was forthcoming and transparent, and I’ll be happier because I was truthful.

Flawed logic.

The results of this experiment haven’t been the most favorable.  It turns out that most people would prefer I tell them what they want to hear rather than the truth, or at least the truth as I see/feel it.   They’ll like me much more if I make them happy by powdering their bottoms and blowing pixie dust up their asses, even if it leads to my own discontent and disappointment.

The consequences of telling the truth have bruised  egos and completely dismantled a few friendships, however this is a cost I’m willing to absorb if it means I don’t have to spend one more minute with people I don’t enjoy that much, or wake up next to some person I don’t want in my bed…possibly even my life.  I refuse to pat someone on the back when what they really deserve is a kick in the ass and a potentially lethal truth bomb.

This has turned me into a bit of a cunt I suppose but maybe that’s my true nature. Honesty isn’t so much a problem for me as much as it is a problem for everyone else.   In retrospect I guess I don’t give a shit if people like me after all.


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