Too Hot to Handle
My impression of the phrase ‘too hot to handle’ is that it can only be adequately applied to adventurous, supremely attractive people and/or skillets of fajitas at Don Pablo’s.
I’m not one who’s ever identified herself as aesthetically ‘hot’. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Usually. Where I *do* define myself as ‘hot’ is within the genre of ‘headedness’.
Prior to the advent of anti-depressants, I was indisputably more fiery. I had a quick temper which selectively took its toll on those I was closest to. After all, they had blood or the legal obligations of marriage keeping them chained to me, despite my levels of screaming, swearing and hurling objects.
Now that I’m a Zoloft zombie, aggression has evenly distributed to more normal levels of communicating my displeasure to nearly everyone who treats me unfairly, not just those in my inner circle. While by no means am I an example in pacificity, I find a tremendous amount of fairness and catharsis and telling people they’re being unreasonable and explaining my expectations.
The takeaway? I’m getting lots of experience with handling stressful situations with a shred of civility, without burying my frustration or sadness. I get release without having to explain to the authorities that that stool had always been halfway through that screen door.
That’s my reward, right? I’m able to express my feelings without repercussion? You’d think that.
As I continue the journey of shell departure, I continue to find new friends, form new bonds, develop new relationships. And then, often as quickly as they began, the new dynamic fizzles out. A friend told me this is called a ‘supernova’. Something that comes on fast, strong and then dies as urgently as it arrived. But surely not a majority of friendships are supernovas…are they?
During one of my regular bouts of introspection, I realized a commonality in all of these now deceased unions. They end on the note of me expressing sadness or frustration with the person’s inability to live up to the minimum standards of being a good friend. Instead of the person offering contrition or a solution, they instead offer angry incredulity and ironically, label my concerns as ‘dramatic’.
This bothers me. My definition of ‘dramatic’ bases upon a personality which is hinged in insecurity. This person thinks everything is about them all of the time. Everyone is talking/thinking about them. They lash out, acting cold, cruel, manipulative as a preemptive strike for the inevitably horrible things “everyone” will soon say or do. No one WANTS to be that person.
Amongst the many technological advances I am thankful for in this century, chat and text logs are 2 of them. Almost every bond that’s broken in the last year has done so via IM or text. I decided to review. Sparing you the time stamps and emojis, and trying to filter out most traces of bias, this is what I came up with:
Was I a dick?
I expressed myself in the most diplomatic and clear way that I know how. Despite the lack of obscenities, screaming, name calling or unfair accusations, there was still plenty of emotional tinge to my arguments. Is it possible to discuss personal relationships without emotional tinge? There’s probably a better way to do it than I have thus far learned. But emphatically, no. I was not a cold, cruel or manipulative. Or a dick.
Was I being insecure?
It’s hard for me to love and care about people and not expect them to love and care about me too. A friend told me this is too high of an expectation from most people. Even if reciprocity is what I know I deserve. I put myself out there too much because I really want to be loved. So yeah; in one regard I was definitely being insecure. In another regard, I have enough self confidence to know what I deserve and ask for it.
Was I being self centered?
Cue the Morrisettical dilemma over whether it is irony, coincidence, paradox or satire that is my need for people to be less selfish by paying more attention to me. In the end, I can peacefully say that the expectation I had out of this defunct dynamic was reasonable. Most successful relationships should provide a healthy effort/reward ratio. The classic ROI. If you’re putting way more into ANYTHING than you’re getting out, it’s arguably a a waste of resources. I expect to get what I give. Or at least something very close to it. Not getting reciprocity makes the other party moreover the self-centered one.
So now I’m left to wonder: do my perceived histrionics make me ‘too hot to handle’ for most people? If so, grab your Ove Gloves, bitches**; I’m not cooling down.
(**Let historical records show I was the first person to ever use the phrase “grab your Ove Gloves bitches”.)
Oh my god how this post aged well.