Mean Girls

On Control:

How do you extricate yourself from a situation in which you're willing to give nothing up? If you cared less about the outcome, you could just walk away. If you cared more about the outcome, you could take steps to rectify things. Instead, you're in a perpetual state of blah.

You won't confront it. You will sit back and watch it fall to pieces without wielding any control, and you will probably laugh about it in the end because the outcome truly does not matter. But having no control is a double-edged sword. You make no choices, but you may not like the aftermath.

On Fake People:

I'm not good at spotting these people. Ali has a gift. She can size a person up in seconds. It's uncanny. I'm wildly unsuccessful. When people are nice to me, I assume it's because they like me, or because they are kind people. It turns out, this is not true. Who knew?

Perhaps I am exceptionally naive. I look for the best in people. Maybe their best blinds me to their worst ... because as soon as Ali points out the fakeness, I'm appalled. How could I have missed the sidelong looks, the gossip behind hands, the gloating?

Ali, in short, protects me from the Kim Kardashians of this world.

On Girl World:

Outside of high school I didn't know this world existed. I can be in a room full of people, and am completely oblivious to the undercurrents of metaphorical cat claws. The fake people (see above) are the main players in this world that I only recently discovered. They are malicious and manipulative and their minds are distorted by their own strange hierarchies; hierarchies that, predictably, center around boys.

But this is what makes us girls: we don't stick together because we put boys first. It's just like Lana del Rey said.

They aren't worth it. They never have been. There are a few in the bunch who are good, solid men. The rest are just boys; immature, hollow things who, when measured against something meaningful, are found lacking.

I wish girls had such a credence as the boys do: "Bros before hoes." But our culture doesn't allow it. We can't afford to treasure our girlfriends more than our boys because there is a stigma against independent women. Something must be wrong with her, if she is still alone at the age of 28.

Girl world is an understandable, though sickening, product of our need to be wanted, adored even. It's easier to cut a rival down than to take the higher road.

In conclusion:

I'm not a fan of shallow people.

Grievances

"Emotions that are not acknowledged or expressed tend to escalate."
-Dr. Redwood

I know that I'm coming out of the darkness when I want to write again. I'm good with words, but only on paper. In person I am awkward and clumsy. Only on paper am I ever eloquent.

Back to the point: when I am in the darkness my thoughts go unexpressed, which is why I think I lash out at some of the least deserving people. I pick fights that I cannot win.

When my dad was alive, I fought with him constantly. We were ever at odds, my father and I, being much too similar and far too stubborn. The difference: he let his anger go (mostly through yelling), and I implode on myself.

I hold grudges.

Grudges are, simply put, ridiculous. Even I, a master at grudge-holding, can admit it. The problem with grudges is that they can only hurt you, never the object of your resentment. People often don't care what you think of them, or they are unaware of your animosity. Instead the grudge only eats at you. Any mention of their name angers you. Any glimpse of their face puts you on edge.

It's tiring!

And what is the point? What good does it do you to embrace the bitterness? Why should someone have that power over you?

How many bridges have I burned by holding grudges? And yet I still can't find it in myself to be nice to people I don't like. Perhaps that makes me a bad person, but I have so little energy, I can't justify wasting it on people who care nothing for me.

My people are few, but they are my people, and I am fiercely loyal to them. So to those of you I love, and to those who love me back, let me say thank you for putting up with me when I am at my worst because at my best, I would most definitely die for you.