Every girl has them. Those tiny things that make you just snap, turning a usually calm person into a raging bitch-monster who is out for blood. They turn into that terrifyingly crazy chick that you see on movies: the girlfriend who rips up his favorite ___(fill in the blank)_____, or the wife who sets all his stuff on fire in the front yard. You know, the crazy girl that men warn each other about. Some girls are good at being able to recognize their triggers and can settle themselves down before the monster emerges.
I am not one of those girls.
I’m the girl who, once my bitch trigger is pulled, I either have to immediately have a conversation to discuss whether or not I’m irrationally angry, or my rage grows exponentially until I absolutely explode! Name calling, and low blows abound. I’ve never been violent, but my emotional punches tend to be unnecessarily cruel. There isn’t even that much yelling. But the more hurt I become by being ignored, the more cruel my words become.
For me, there are a handful of things that will set me off in a terrible way. Given this last bout of drama with Superman, I think it’s safe to say that my number one trigger is being ignored. It started simply. He made a comment. He told me he didn’t want to continue this (which he had said before but we had discussed it, and I thought everything was ok… or at least working towards ok), which upset me for obvious reasons.
What upset me worse was the way he handled it. He sent it via text. It was disrespectful, maybe even a little cowardly. It was unnecessarily dismissive. And it was too much to bear given that the rest of my week sucked.
I had invited him to come see a basketball game with me, because we had to reschedule seeing each other twice. The first time, he slept through our date, but I wasn’t angry; he had a really, really good reason for it. The second time, my new job created a situation for me: I’m broke until I get my new paycheck.
Oddly enough, I have no fear of saying all this on here, but it scares me when I tell a guy my situation. I was especially scared to say it to him because of how the Artist had reacted… But I overcame my fear because I wanted him to see that I did trust him. I wanted Superman to see that I was willing to take a risk on him. I needed to tell him because we had discussed that we both have baggage that we were working through.
Me opening up about what I’ve been through in the past year was me trying to unpack my baggage and let it go.
His baggage create a wall.
Or at least I think that’s what happened. Since he won’t actually talk to me about it, I don’t really know what started the whole situation.
That’s inaccurate. We had discussed part of it. When I first let my baggage determine my reactions, he shut down. My baggage made me question him and his motives. His baggage made him close that door, and he told me as much in a conversation over the phone. We were both under a great deal of stress, but the potential I saw made me want to work on it. His wall made him want to walk away.
One week of not being able to see each other (which for the record was just 2 reschedulings, not a whole slew of missed opportunities), and he decided it was a sign.
I wasn’t worth the risk to him. We weren’t worth the risk.
But to tell me via text…
Well, it didn’t sit well with me. Several of my friends have told me I cannot have a conversation like that via text, because it gets misconstrued and my feelings get hurt worse. The lack of tone angers me. In fact the inciting incident had happened because of a text.
I just wanted to have a grown up conversation… Texting kills relationships.
I asked him to see me to discuss it.
He ignored me.
I became insistent that he see me.
He commented about some things, but for the most part, I was stuck with my finger on the bitch trigger. The disrespect he showed me by forcing me to have such a personal conversation in such an impersonal way was poking at that bitch monster.
When I saw where his sister was asking him about some other girl, that his sister presumed he was dating (and maybe he is), it was too much.
He had tagged the girl in a comment and used the words “We” and “our”… None of the special times we shared had he tagged me in.
I was a secret.
It was the repeat of so many bad times. The Boy not telling me about his ex (whom he was still seeing), or telling her about me. The Artist telling people I was his girl in public but then telling me he wasn’t romantically interested in me. The player who kept me as 1 of 13 different girls and would lie to his roommates about the nature of our relationship, even though they had heard us.
It was a slap in the face, letting me know that I was unimportant, and that him saying that he cared for me was just another lie being told to me by a man.
That baggage that I had been unpacking jumped right back into it’s case and strapped itself to my back, but not before releasing the rage monster inside of me.
I commented on his wall. I would not be a secret. Not this time. People would know I existed, and that it had been nice. It was me he had had those feelings for that he posted about, and that post made me feel safe enough to tell him I could fall for him… even though me saying that made him put his walls up even higher.
I was a part of his life for a little while, and it had been good.
I deserved to be acknowledged.
He responded by unfriending me. Maybe it was because I lost my temper at him and told him off in chat. It was just one disrespect for another, since he wouldn’t give me the courtesy of talking to his face.
The problem was, he didn’t let me know he was busy either. It may be that he wasn’t just ignoring me, but that he was really involved in something else: his workout. It is even likely that was the case, but my bitch-monster wouldn’t listen to reason. There were several times I’d even started to say something and held it back because I knew it was irrational. A good hour of time was wasted on me going back and forth on things I wanted to say but knew were not ok to say. I recognized that I was just irrationally angry.
At least for a moment.
Now it may not be fixable. I still don’t know exactly what happened, why he decided we wouldn’t work, and I may never know.
Was it because he thought I was too involved? When I was trying to be cute and said I could fall for him, did I scare him away?
Was it because I couldn’t let go of my baggage soon enough? A month is kind of a short time to let the baggage go, as seen by the fact that his isn’t gone either. And my baggage runs kind of deep.
Was it because my current situation makes him uneasy? It makes me uneasy, too, but I’m at the end of the darkness. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I just have to suffer through it a little longer. One more month, and I’ll be back to a normal situation.
Was it because I wanted kids at some point? He asked the question, although we had discussed it before, so I didn’t see a reason not to answer truthfully.
Actually there were several discussions we’d had before that he didn’t remember. We had discussed that I like to go dancing, and that I can Two-Step. We had even discussed going dancing. My mother has asked me if he’d taken me dancing yet at least a dozen times… He forgot we ever had that discussion; he was shocked when we repeated the conversation almost word for word on the phone only two nights before he decided to tell me we weren’t working.
The thing is, it didn’t feel like he was trying to work on it. And the disrespectful way he told me was just a little too much. In a text? Really?
I had invited him to a basketball game, to share my students with him, my job, a part of me I was excited for him to see. He rejected me:
As fun as that sounds, I will have to respectfully decline. I think it would be best if we ended our journey here. I do care for you and I wish you the best but I don’t think this is working out between us.
If he’d just met with me to tell me in person, rescheduled one final time, I would have been okay. But the last time we actually saw each other face to face had been so perfect! It was only a small misunderstanding compounded by both of us being under a bit of pressure that caused him to flip so fast.
To be dismissed in such a manner without any explanation of why, to be ignored when I asked for clarification and begged for a meeting face to face. It was too much. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have any of his stuff…
So my bitch triggers are:
- being disrespected
- being ignored
- being dismissed
- being left in the dark
Perhaps there are more, or maybe it requires a specific combination, but that’s the list for now.