You know that thing you always do? Yeah. I hate that.

We all have pet peeves.  Things that people do that grab hold of the last nerve in your ass and work it until it is frayed and raw.  Some of them are valid and universal, like rude commuters, loudness and Elizabeth Hasselbeck.  Others, though not invalid, are more personality driven.  I have those a-PLENTY.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve chewed the inside of my jaw, so as to bear through the ordeal of another person’s existence.  That’s awful.  I’m awful.  Yet, once a person has gotten on the wrong side of my nerves, it’s hard to get back right.  On the good side, I recognize it me, and I give folks a lot of leeway.  Every once in a while, when either my nerves are set to extra sensitive, or a person is set on extra “them-ness” I ponder, “Should I say something?”  How would that conversation even begin?  “Hey, um, I wanted to talk to you about all this ‘being you’ you’ve insisted on doing in the past day/week/month/year/lifetime. Um…how bout you chill out with all that?”

My life is a study in tolerance, because at first glance, I tolerate nothing.  Mentally, my go-to response is, “The hell he/she didn’t.”  Knowing that, I typically just swallow it and silently wait until either a conversation shift, or I take my leave.  Most times it works.  But some of the people that twerk my nerves KNOW me, and they know just how to push my buttons.

Without going into the gory details, I recently had a conversation with the baby daddy.  He’s had a world class cuss out on back order for about two years now.  He would do something reckless, I’d ignore it.  He’d do something ignorant, I’d gloss it over.  He’d do something to go to the hall of world class fucked upedness, and I’d say “help me help you here.”  Because I’m trying to live in the grown up world.  Until two weeks ago, he asked the wrong questions, at the wrong time, in the wrong tone and made a few ludicrous assertions.  And I continued to try to just glaze it over.  So he would push again.  And I’d give a calm response.  And he would push again until…

I unleashed the dragon.  And felt equally relieved and horrified.  Because I don’t like other people having control of my anger.  And I don’t want props for telling him off and cussing him out, because at the end of the day, that’s my kids’ father and it is disrespectful to them.  I can guarantee you that cussing out my pops is putting yourself squarely at Beatdown Junction.

My point is, folks are going to be who they are, and though you should stand up for yourself when need be, you should never let them control who YOU are.  If a person irritates you, and it won’t cause the plates to shift and empires to crumble, let it be.

Ten years ago, if you would have told me I would be saying such a thing, I would have called you a bald faced liar.  This grown up shit is a muthafucka.


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