Time: 11:45 p.m.
Place: Third Base (a bar on Main St. in Buffalo, NY)
Scene: Halloween themed open bar. There is a dude dressed like Buzz Lightyear, a guy dressed as Kanye, the normal array of girls dressed as slutty versions of animals and my friends and I dressed as Swine Flu. I have a vodka iced tea in one hand and my phone in the other. My friend from home is texting me and telling me to (finally) stand up for myself and with the help of one of my best friends…I do.
Girls should know if their boyfriend is a skeeze…if you tell them and they stay with the lying, cheating asshole anyway, then that’s their problem. I feel bad, but I’m not sorry.
I don’t have to feel sorry for standing up for myself. For the longest time a certain person has tried to make me feel bad or feel guilty for having feelings. He tried to make me feel like my emotions and opinions weren’t valid and for a while, I believed him. I kissed his ass and I told myself I was wrong because CLEARLY someone else knows more about how I feel than I do…right? Wrong. He even used to tell me what I could and couldn’t post in this blog.
This is basic human rights, people. I have a right to feel the way I do just like you have the right to your own feelings. We don’t have to agree but we do have to be tolerant of one another. We have to let each other feel and when someone tells you not to, that crosses the line. It betrays trust and friendship and any chance of any kind of relationship at all.
No one can tell you how to feel.
It’s amazing how much a costume and being surrounded by friends can give you courage and support. As I stood at the bar with my ripped up H1N1 t-shirt, curly hair flowing down my back I knew that things had gotten a little out of hand, but it was a means to an end. My own personal war on terror was ending RIGHT. THEN. I hugged my friends and floated off to another bar leaving the drama and the past behind me…flipping the bird to the haters as I peaced out.
I then had legitimate fun for the rest of the night. It was all smiles and flirtation…and saving Meg from making a disastrous fool out of herself…which is why I love her.
What’s even more amazing is waking up in the morning to an array of text messages telling you that you did the right thing…and that they are proud of you for finally standing your ground and not allowing yourself to be kicked around anymore. As I rolled out of my cocoon of tie-dyed sheets and a fleece Beatles blanket I grabbed my buzzing phone and scrolled through the messages…from friends at school, friends at home, my mom…it felt wonderful to have evidence of my amazing support system upon waking. I don’t know what I would do without them.
I’m willing to bet a majority of you think I’m wrong, but I don’t care. I purged my life of assholes who are undeserving of my time. Yes I feel bad that I let the tension build up to the point that it did but I don’t feel bad about finally stating my piece. It may have happened haphazardly…it may not have been all my doing but it was my way of finally saying, “leave me alone, I don’t want to be your friend so stop sending me inappropriate pictures and text messages.”
And to that guy who likes to tell me my feelings are wrong–you’ve brought out nothing but the worst in me. It disgusts me how influenced I was by someone who, as far as I can tell, lost all of his redeeming qualities. I hope you get them back some day. You’re a good person.
I feel wonderful…and happy and vindicated.
I was never a huge fan of being a strong, independent woman until I saw first hand how incredibly sexist and misogynistic some guys can be…they deserve to be called out on it…so I did.