If I wanted you, YOU WOULD KNOW IT III (Stop being a narcissistic douchebag)

Based on the comments received on the last two blog posts, I’m still not getting my message across. So let me try to be clearer. When I had this conversation with the guy from Why do I have to say let’s just be friends when we already are?, he gave me the perfect analogy. He told me that hitting on me was like being in the desert and seeing an oasis. He was thirsty; he had to drink. You know what the major difference is between me and a body of water? I’m not a fucking inanimate object. But these guys don’t see it that way. 

That guy, and the guy leaving all the comments, seems to believe that a) women have no agency in their romantic lives and b) any agency we might have is of no material importance to what they want. That’s all they hear in their minds. ME WANT. ME WANT. And what happens when you tell a guy he’s acting like a narcissistic douchebag? He patiently explains why it’s all your fault. 

For all those guys, let me spell it out. You don’t get to tell me I don’t have a right to my feelings. Your inability to predict them does not invalidate my natural anger at you treating me like an inanimate object. And if for one moment you’re mustering your feminist/humanist credentials in your head to argue against what I’ve written here, stop and think about why you’re doing that. Because I told you you didn’t have the right to go after what you wanted. And you’re incapable of recognizing that what I want might have equal importance to what you want. After all, I don’t have the right to want what I want. Not when it conflicts with what you want. 

Let me be even clearer. THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU. It’s about me. But all you heard was me telling you not do something you wanted to do.

If I wanted you, you would know it-- the song!

Where's Beyonce when you need her? Someone write the music to this.

If I Were Interested, You Would Know It

I’m not afraid to hit on a guy
I’m not gonna let too much time go by
Pout my lips, shake my hips, or go in for a kiss
It’s not a signal he’s gonna miss

CHORUS: I'm not playing games, I'm not being coy 

I'm just not into you, feel me boy?
So take your feelings and keep a tight lid on it 
Cuz I don't give a shit if you want to hit it 
If I were interested, you would know it

I’m not saying I don’t enjoy your company
You’ve been cool and a pretty good friend to me
Ain’t no spark, made no mark, just can’t fake chemistry
We can just stay friends while I stay free

CHORUS

No means no, I ain't just playin' 
Stop a minute and listen to what I'm sayin' 
Don't matter if I'm drunk, in a funk, or feeling lonely
You ain't never gonna be my one and only 

CHORUS

If I wanted you, YOU WOULD KNOW IT

Good lord. How many posts do I have to make about my problems with friends who want more? I know, I know. It’s me. Obviously, it’s me. I get that it’s me; I just don’t get why it’s me. If you read this blog, or even the last post, you can see that I don’t do subtle. At best, I’m typically accused of being blunt. At worst, rude. I flat out admitted to a guy in high school that I had a huge crush on him. Knowing full well he didn’t feel the same.* 

Ok, I’ll liven up this blog post with some more proof of my incredible bluntness with guys. In high school, I got high and told a guy I fell in love with him at first sight. In college, while drunk, I got the sense that a new guy in my circle of friends was interested in me. He’s giving me a back rub, and I’m thinking, no way do I come back to college and on my first night make out with someone. There’s an awkward silence. Then I realized I just said that out loud. After college, I was out with a guy who was giving me a ton of mixed signals. So I told him that my mother was already picking out china patterns for us. Another awkward silence when he didn’t laugh at my joke. Hanging out at a friend’s apartment with his hot out of town guest—“Is it too soon to ask you to sit on my feet?” Yeah. It wasn’t. Most recently, I guy I liked at a friend’s birthday drove me home and when we got there I panicked about asking for contact information. So I kissed him. Then asked. 

So recently, when a guy read me a laundry list of things I had done that he took as signals I was interested, I was astounded that he had missed the obvious. Namely, I had never flirted with him. I had never inadvertently touched him. I had never sat next to him when there was room to sit farther away. I told another friend to stop trying to kiss me. He didn’t and accused me of playing games. Playing games? Mixed signals? How could I strike anyone who knows me as someone who doesn’t go after what she wants? I don’t get it. But let me make it clear. If I wanted you, you would know it. And likely at some cost to my personal dignity if history is anything to go by. 

* In case you’re interested, ten years later when I show up to my high school reunion looking smoking hot, said guy is full of astonishment that we didn’t date in high school. History rewritten.