You’re so vain, you probably think this post is about you

Don’t lie to yourself, bitch.

You opened this blog thinking that I may have written this about you.

For some of you, I may have.

For others, I simply do not care enough to write about you or don’t feel that this applies to you.

Either way, let’s talk about what it means to dislike another person, perhaps, such as yourself.

One thing that you may not know about me is that I tend to really not like other people.

Ha! Who am I kidding? Everyone knows that.

On this other side of this, throughout my life, I have discovered that I am not someone that is generally well-liked.

Now for those of you who are gonna come forward and be like “people like you,” save your breath. I got over it in the 11th grade, it no longer bothers me.

One thing that I always found weird, is when people try really hard to make you aware that they don’t like you.

Like they constantly say it to your face and expect you to have some sort of reaction.

*Cue the dramatic scene where I’m devastated that you don’t think I’m the coolest person in the whole world!!!!!! Tears are shed, things get broken, especially my heart!!!!!*

Okay, now back to reality.

So, you don’t like me?

Then honey, you better take a number because there are thousands of people still waiting in line for me to give a shit about what they think.

These people tend to act like their not liking you should be a big deal. Like I should be shocked, or beg for them to like me.

But like, no shit you don’t like me.

I’m opinionated, I’m loud, I know my worth, I probably do not give a fuck about your opinion, and I’m kind of a bitch.

I probably wouldn’t like me either if I weren’t so fantastic.

Plus, I don’t really see the point in trying to impress other people.

I usually put it all out on the table and if it bothers you, then bye Felicia.

I’m not interested in changing who I am for anyone but myself.

On the opposite, but equally annoying end of the spectrum, I don’t understand why people are so hurt when you don’t like them.

It’s like I’ve taken away a part of their soul by not reaffirming how great they think they are.

Babydoll, if my not liking you is affecting your self-esteem that much then you really gotta spend some time working on yourself.

Maybe once you lose the need to have everyone love you, I might start to think you’re cool.

No promises though.

I don’t like you for a reason.

You don’t have to go around asking other people my opinions of you, or why I don’t like you.

All that does is make you look dumb, and gives me wrinkles* because I got everyone up in my business asking why I don’t like you even though you’re “so sweet.”

Excuse me while I go barf.

*Note: If you think I’m joking, think again. The only thing that manages to age me significantly is stupid people.

If you wanna know why I don’t like you, then just ask me. I’d happily give you a play by play.

Just make sure you’re prepared for some hard truths.

Not that you should care.

My thoughts of you and your thoughts of me really don’t matter at the end of the day.

Just because you think I’m annoying bitch, doesn’t mean I am.*

*Note: I am, but that’s not the point.

Your opinion of me, whether it’s true or not is not all that I am.

The same way that my opinion of you is not all that you are.

You can go your way, and I’ll go mine.

Say whatever you want about me, but hey, try to be original. I promise you I’ve heard everything in the book.

I don’t need you to reaffirm how amazing I am.

If you need someone to stroke your ego, however, I suggest you call your momma.

That is not, and will never be my job.


P.s. This post is probably about you.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s