Why does it seem there are those who have it their way and those who accommodate?
More importantly, how do I train to be the former?
This isn’t going to be a snarky post where I bitch and complain that I have to adapt to make nice with those who either can’t get their shit together or see nothing past their own hula-hoop. I’ll try to steer clear of that.
I’m on an honest search because, after years of dodging and bowing, I want to be the person who says, “No. It’s either this way or not at all.” The unwavering one instead of accepting.
Why do I have to understand, change, accept?
Don’t tell me it’s because I’m kind or a good person because that’s bullshit. I’m not. I give in, that’s all.
I look at the situation, decided the other person needs something or it wouldn’t be fair to stand my ground. I tell myself that I am fortunate and then I cave.
I am fortunate. Not because of fairy dust or lucky dice, mind you. My life has been a lot of hard work. Guilt shouldn’t be a factor, but that, “be nice” crap works every time.
I want to be a decent human being, but I want the fuck-you seat too. It’s not too late to become the woman who demands everyone else alter their plans, change direction on a whim or more importantly because of her issues.
Do I need issues to be commanding and unapologetic? I grew up without a father. Maybe I could do something with that? Grow that little scar into an ice queen persona to keep the “I know, but can you?” monsters and the “Oops, could you get that?” trolls at bay.
Because what those people are really saying is, “I’m not willing to put in the work, so you do it.”
They’re asking me to hold something for them that they know they’re never coming back to retrieve. They’ll keep piling more crap on until one day I’ll find myself writing a blog post about it.
Well, no more. From here on out, I’m on bitch highway headed north. I’m hoping to fine-tune my skills until my mere presence commands accommodation. Yes. I want to become Anna Wintour.
I guarantee she is no one’s coat check.
Huh, I guess this did turn into a snarky post. Oh, well. You don’t mind, do you?
My thoughts from the laundry room. Eye Shades On.