Grateful for: sunny mornings. coffee. projects that are almost finished but not quite. oatmeal. eggs. the cutest pets in the world. this hopeful time of year. music. warmth. big windows overlooking the city. inner strength. introversion.
I still regret mentioning to a real life person that my physical and mental health improved by being left alone. It's the kind of thing one shouldn't say, even though it's true. It sounds too much like "I'm happier without you."
But I like not being told bad advice. I like not being misunderstood. I like not being controlled by those who can't control themselves. I enjoy being my quiet self, uninterrupted and free. I love the peace and the space to dream. No passive aggression. No invalidation. No slamming doors. No blame. No hurt. No shaving. I love existing just for myself. It feels like being a man must feel, being selfish, indulging without asking permission.
The reasons I resent men who complain to me about being trapped at home should be obvious. I'm a woman.
I've been a housewife. I've hid at home to avoid catcallers and rapey men. Some people have no homes at all. Privilege makes these men complain, and to complain to a woman about being trapped at home is the epitome of privilege. These types of men aren't boyfriend or father material. They serve no useful purpose in a crisis and they're no fun in good times either, so why drain my energy on dead ends.
Until I can safely go outside with my tits out like men do, until I have one female president, I'll not have much empathy for men who bitch and whine that it's not safe to go outside, or that their needs aren't being met or heard. Boo fuckin hoo.
My ex, however, has been an angel through all this. He's one of few who has remained calm and even-tempered, like a mature stable adult. I'm profoundly grateful. The world deserves more men like him.
9:35 a.m. - 2021-01-31