Saturday, 25 January 2014
I'm so fed up of people trying to dictate my relationship, it's unbelievable that so many outsiders can be dragging themselves and their partners through the crap in the dog-yard and yet think they are qualified and welcome to comment on my rather 'thriving' relationship. Piss off. Who the hell do you think you are, criticising me? Gone are the days when I change myself and my personality to keep someone else happy, I am who I am, and any changes I go through, or phases or moments of highs and lows are my business. If my chosen partner at the current time couldn't deal with any of the elements that make me, I am sure he'd be man enough to speak out himself, and if unjustified he'd receive a good kick up the backside through the door.
I love the way I know people who think I'm not worth enough to be myself 24/7 and still keep my chap. What? Are you concerned I'll lose this one as well? Well I'll tell you what, the last one wasn't worth a toenail clipping of this one, reason being: I was expected to hole myself up and be some china doll. Well I'm not a china doll. I am a woman, with thoughts and feelings, and needs, and good days and bad days, sometimes bad weeks, deal with it. The person you're looking out for deals with it well enough.
How dare you act as if I can't do better, like I should be doing everything in my power to hold onto someone who's not going anywhere anyway. My boyfriend is just that, mine! and if I felt like I needed advice I'd ask him or even his closest dearest friend of the last 26 years, I wouldn't turn to someone who had a handful to no conversations with the guy your assuming is of the same mind set as you. Most of you can't figure out what you want in life. Grow up. This rant has been building up for a while, a lot of people and a lot of unwanted comments have nagged at me to this breaking point. This is why I don't like people. This is why I'm a blogger not a talker, because with half of the world, when you open your mouth you can't win either way...the computer screen, the notebook...they don't talk back.
Posted by Miss Siviter at 11:39