A few weeks ago, I received a text from my ex-boyfriend.
It read “I miss you kiddo, sorry I’m a generic assh*ole”
This text surprised and confused me, why was he texting me? Is this a drunk text? Do I feel the same?
I stood there for a moment, contemplating my options, weighting in each possible response that came to mind.
I responded with a haphazard “why did you wait so long to talk to me?”
Then I began to wonder, on a deeper level why in the hell do I keep encountering these underwhelming man children that can hardly take care of themselves, let alone be a partner to me, and in this case—who dumped me over the phone after spending the weekend with me?
Then it dawned on me; maybe I’m the problem. Allowing these subpar men into my life, convincing me that there’s something I need to change about myself; that I need to become something else.
But like many other self-aware women in this day and age, I am sick and tired of trying to fit into someone else’s idea of what I’m meant to be for them.
So, in the spirit of avoiding cuffing season this year, I’m going to put on my best dress, throw a little makeup on, and NOT drunk text my ex.