One thing I love about The Carrie Diaries is that it’s full of great advice – and that line up there spoke to me directly.
For the past week I had been slightly troubled by what a random stranger had commented on my blog – that I was ugly inside and that was perhaps why I’d been single my entire life. He said that based on my blog posts, I was a bitter little girl who was eager to find a partner but was looking for a ‘perfect mannequin’ and not a real guy with feelings. That I was viewing the world through rose-tinted glasses, in which I was at the same time superior/inferior to others, which made me a bully.
Now I could’ve just let this slide. I mean, it’s just a stranger making some unnecessary comment on the Internet, right? But when I posted on FB about being brave enough to admit that he was right, several people liked it, which made me wonder : are they agreeing with the fact that I’m ugly inside?
& that’s when I went around feeling very uncomfortable, like there was something dirty stuck onto me that I wanted to scrape off : the label of being ugly inside. I won’t lie – I was a former mean girl. But I thought I had changed.
I can still shrug off being called ugly in the physical sense, because I’ve had that, and I just blame it on people being superficial. But when my character , my personality, my values come under fire, then there’s no one else to blame, is there?
It begs the question : what have I done wrong? I re-read all of my posts, and I noted that while I did seem to be constantly hoping for love to come my way, a lot of the time I focused on being happy and trying to learn how to be independent and loving others. It was that 1 post about hating couples that sounded bitter, but even then I acknowledged it and knew that I could not think that way.
I mean, we’re not all saints. I’m sure everyone has negative thoughts about others once in a while – I was just honest about mine. But I guess I figured out that sometimes people hate honesty.
I seem to give guys the wrong idea. First, one calls me ‘desperate’ , and now I’m a beast (but not in the fierce Nicki Minaj way).
Guys hate me for being honest and constantly talking about what I want. & they stick negative labels on me as a result.
I can’t let them define me, and I won’t . What ‘Ryan Cody’, my dear little hater, said about me was not true. Since when was requiring a guy to speak well, be close to his family and be intelligent equivalent to searching for a ‘perfect mannequin’? & you mean I’m supposed to be cheerful 24/7 , throwing petals at couples passing by and giving them my blessings? Face the facts – a lot of lovey-dovey couples break up. & I was targeting girls who looked pretty superficial – but according to wise little ‘Ryan’, they were probably nice people. Well, I’m sure they spend their weekends bathing dogs at the animal shelter instead of partying. I’m sure. I’m sure they smile at every girl they pass by and compliment them instead of making snide comments about their appearance.
I briefly considered writing him an email, but I think that I have to take the high road this time. He might not have a life, blog-hopping and commenting on other people’s lives, but I do. Better not waste any more time and energy on this faceless stranger.
I must thank him though, I guess, for making me realise that that part of me had become unhealthy, and it needed to die – or at least pipe down a little. Like Carrie said, labels are only part of the story – to him, I was the bitter lonely single girl blogging about her lack of a love life who was probably destined to die alone. But there’s so much more to me than that – & I’ve been ignoring those other bits of me.