Lists · Wondering

My 3 Worst Traits

It is the night before valentines day and a lot of people out there are preparing to shower their beloveds with things to make them feel cherished. Writing poems maybe, rehearsing guitar-strummed songs to serenade them with, or simply conjuring up the words to tell them how special they are. In reality I’m fully aware that most are in fact rushing out to ASDA to buy a £3.99 bouquet of flowers in favor of the poetry but, still, just let me set the scene…The lovers are out there contemplating just how perfect their partners are, marveling over all of the wonderful traits which made them fall in love and planning all the ways in which they can express that.

I am here, the night before valentines day, trying to articulate my three worst traits as a human being. The three things which would, if push came to shove, probably make me choose not to be friends with myself if I were to meet me. Here we go.

1. Analytical – I am far too analytical to the extent that sometimes even I can not understand my reasoning. I will recall a conversation I had a week ago and, while casually reviewing it in my head, suddenly stumble upon some hidden subtext. It will finally click into place that what should have been an innocent chatter about a party was actually a very subtle way of sniping at my tendency to get too drunk, probably laced with a subliminal threat and an insult to my mother. I over-think things until I can not even trace my way back to where the root thought began. I sometimes wish I was a bit more simple minded because then I would probably just partake in normal social interactions and take things at face value without deconstructing each situation like a forensic at a crime scene. If my cat hasn’t visited me in my room for a few days and decides to stay downstairs instead I can’t fight off the suspicion that I have offended him in some way and he now has another favorite human. Yes, I over-think until I conclude that my cat is cheating on me.

2. Too much to say – I really like listening to other people speaking and telling stories. I just always seem to have to fight away the overwhelming urge to interrupt. I like to talk a lot and sometimes there are so many ideas and exclamations and necessary things to say. If somebody is telling a particularly long story it is guaranteed to provoke at least 5 loosely linked topics in my head which I then want to discuss with them as soon as possible. To be really honest most of these topics will probably involve myself or relevant stories which are my own (better) versions of theirs. I am learning to patiently wait until each speaker has finished their story before I can launch into my long list of anecdotes and discussions and opinions that they kindly inspired me to share. This makes me sound like a bitch. I do really really like listening. I just feel I participate better in conversations when I am allowed at least a 60:40 ratio of speech.

3. Contradictory – I’ve contradicted myself in a lot of ways before. Just a few examples are…Passionately stating that I hate how the media affects young women’s body image and then going out to buy beauty products heavily endorsed by said media. Telling friends not to let people treat them in certain ways and then allowing myself to be treated in a similar (and worse) fashion. Starting numerous lifestyle or health kicks (mental and physical ones) which result in either alcohol/disgusting amounts of chocolate/a negative mood I can’t shake from by day three. I love things in life that are consistent – Things that I can always be sure of. It seems very pathetic of me to fluctuate so much, in every way possible, when I thrive upon everything else around me staying the same; constant and comforting.

So there it is. The three things about myself I dislike the most. Happy Valentines Day to one and all, whether you are planning on spending tomorrow whispering sweet nothings into the ear of your dog or proposing to a lover. Or maybe proposing to your dog. I won’t judge.

(Can I just add as a disclaimer that I am also honest and passionate and I while I struggle to cry because of my own feelings I have cried many times imagining those of strangers. And I would never leave an injured baby bird to die. And, above anything else, I love my mum.)


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