I'm a pretty knowledgeable person. When I get asked questions, I answer them to the best of my knowledge, or in some cases, I look things up on the spot. But today, I was asked a question I could not answer, no matter how hard I tried......Until now.
"Why are you such a bitch?"
In reality, no woman wants to be asked this question, whether in a joking manner or even if someone is dead serious. I'm pretty the person with the question meant it as a rhetorical statement, however, I stopped dead in my tracks, eyes wide, and for once in my twenty years, I had absolutely nothing to say. Not one goddamned word. My brain was so taken aback by the question, I couldn't even mutter out so much as an insult to this person.
Now, one who knows me well might ask, "why in the world did you not slap this person square in the face?!" To put it simply, I don't know. But what I do know is I thought all day about this question. Six little words made my whole day about strolling through the crevices of my memories, thinking back as far as I could to why I was a bitch. I have come up with a few explanations. Well, more of a few theories.
1. Daddy issues- No, my dad did not abuse me, he did not beat me, and he didn't talk down to me. He was a loving, caring, amazing dad. I don't know how many times he begged me to go live in South Dakota with him. I never went without food, I always had nice clothes, he always paid his child support on time, called when he said he would. He never missed a birthday, Christmas, Valentine's Day, or Thanksgiving. But that is exactly the problem: I took full advantage of my dad. I never treated him like the amazing father he was. I used him for spiteful fights with my mom and how I told her I would move in with him. He would get his hopes up, then I would go back on me saying it. I forgot his birthday I don't know how many times, I almost never said thank you, and I was a big brat when I went to visit. I never did one damn chore while I was there, I didn't pick up after myself, and I fought constantly with my step-mom. I took and took and took from him, and I never once really appreciated him for anything. That's where treating men badly started.
2. Insecurity- Ah yes, the dreaded self consciousness. Believe it or not, the outspoken person everyone has come to know me as is really a very insecure girl. I was picked on a lot growing up. Especially when I moved to Oklahoma. School was hell coming from South Dakota. I had a funny accent, I was louder than other kids, and I was porky. I mean, lets face it, I am NOT a skinny girl. I never have been. To hide my insecurities, I have become a loud, goofy, joke cracking, nonsense loving woman. But it's never REALLY overshadowed my true self. Inside, I'm actually very serious. I don't laugh much, I have a hot temper, and I hate being smart. HA, never thought you'd hear that huh? But it is very much true. I hate being intelligent. People have always assumed I'm an idiot because of m goofy exterior, so when I do try to portray my intelligence, I get teased. Truth is, I cry. A lot. My feelings get hurt pretty easily. My past relationships haven't helped much with any of this either. Which brings me to my nest theory.....
3. My exes (Will and Bo)- You who know me knew that was coming right? But not in the way you thought. We'll start with William. Oh Will, such a funny guy. Smart, sweet, and caring. But as I mentioned in my first theory, I have a habit of not appreciating men. Want to know what happens when you stop appreciating them? Yep, you got it, they stop appreciating you. I would flirt with other guys, yell at him, lie, yell a little more. He never did anything right, so I treated him like. I remember the first time he cheated on me, I thought to myself, "Wow, well that's what you get, huh bitch?" But did I tell him that? Oh, of course not. I made him feel like dirt. Called him worthless, a piece of shit, etc etc. I kept treating him bad, so of course I knew things would only get worse. I eventually up and left him one day for Bo....Which starts our story for Mr. Vernon Patrick " Bo" Coleman. I met Bo and I thought he hung the fucking moon. and the stars. and the whole damned universe. But, anyone who knows me knows that Bo wasn't the only one around right after Will. I was still flirting with guys, texting other guys, and no, I honestly can't tell you why. Bo found out, all hell broke loose. It was never the same after about 6 months into our relationship, but we fought through it, literally and figuratively. I watched him turn from a funny, caring, sweet, strong man to a bitter, hateful, even abusive boy. I remember the first time he put hands on me, I kept thinking, "what did I do to deserve this?" Now granted, I never EVER deserved him putting hands on me. But I did deserve the bitterness he held towards me. For everything we went through. Then when I finally saw the light, after we got engaged, the fighting had died down, I thought we were okay. Then he cheated. I honestly thought I was dying for the next two weeks following that. I watched the man I loved, who I was supposed to start a life with, pack his things, and walk out the door without one damn tear in his eye. When I asked him about it, he flat out said, "You don't love me. You don't even love yourself Amber."
He was right. How can you expect ANYONE, whether it be friends, family, or a soulmate, to love YOU when you don't even love you? A lot has changed over the past few months. I've cried, I've laughed, and I've sat down and thought long and hard about myself. What I could have done different with my exes, what I could have done different with my family, what I could have done different with me.
Know what I realized? You can't change those things. Unfortunately, Life does not come with an eraser. What we have done is set in stone, there is no way to change it. You can cry about it, dwell on it, be mad about it, but guess what? It's not going to change. I can hate the fact that I played the hell out of the man I wanted to marry, I can hate the fact that I treated an amazing guy who was my best friend like shit, and I can even hate the fact that I was never there for the man who MADE me, whose blood flows through my veins. But I can't change those things. Fortunately, I can make myself better for the future and for anyone who is a part of it.
So to answer that question:
I am a bitch because I couldn't learn to treat people well until it was too late. I am a bitch becaus eI made poor choices against people who loved me.
I am a bitch because I made myself that way.
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