So guess what. I have a lot of faults. I talk too much. I think too much. I’m messy. I can’t cook. I have a temper. All good topics for introspection and maybe for my therapist.
But guess what ladies? We are well-aware of every imperfection we have. Which means we don’t need a man telling us what they are. Husband, boyfriend, friend with benefits, UPS delivery guy, doesn’t matter.
A lot of guys are good at this, because it lets their shitty behavior off the hook . They know we are so hard on ourselves as it is, and they know that exposing our inner critic means nothing is their fault. And if y’all are like me, you’re so used to that self-loathing of imperfection that you fall right into the trap.
“Yep, he’s right, if I wasn’t so indecisive we would have picked a better vacation spot.”
“I cannot blame him for being annoyed with me bugging him during the football game, he’s had a long week (not as long as mine but I digress), and I’m so bad at nagging.”
Maybe it’s time we revolt against this. Hey, why not even agree with them? “Honey you’re right, this IS all my fault” and then walk away, with peace in the deep truth we don’t cause men’s problems. And then we keep on doing whatever the fuck we were doing to annoy them. Because the other option, and I’ve been there, is to begin to believe their lies. And eventually you are holding yourself responsible for everything that goes wrong. With everyone.
So today I pledge to embrace my flaws, and to pinch that fat on the back of my arm (that shit hurts!) every time I believe the negative shit a man blames me for. I pledge to push out of my mind the things he says every time he convinces me that my imperfections have somehow caused his or the world’s problems. Because let’s be honest, how many women start wars and threaten nuclear bonding?