Competing with the Non-Compitetive

I attribute it to my traumatic upbringing with my sisters, but I have come to see that for some reason, some women just hate my damned guts. And it's not even necessarily anything that I've done or said, for some reason, some women just can't stand me. It doesn't matter that I've been nothing but polite, it doesn't matter if I stay out of their way, their target is often aimed at me. And the fact is that it's ridiculous and exhausting.

I've said recently how I started a retail job. Nothing too heavy, just a few days a week to contribute to savings and to be a bit more social, outside of home. I've been a cashier for so long, that this is really old hat. The only issue seems to be that one of the managers there (coincidentally, the same woman who hired me) has really seemed to have a strong disliking for me. And perhaps if this job were my main source of income, I'd care a bit more. But it isn't and I don't.

It started slowly. I happened to stop by the dressing room to chat with a coworker when I was off the clock and Goofy Chick (hereby referred to as GC) stopped by the dressing room to tell me that I was not to be talking to coworkers off the clock, as they work. Er? I let it slide. A different time, she got snotty with me over a headset between coworkers, over something that could have easily been addressed in person. Another day, I got paid from my main job, and mentee (the woman who got me the job) asked that I buy her a $40 pair of earrings. I'd just gotten paid, so I said sure (with the expectation that she pay me back). Another time, I was talking to a customer about my Coach bag collection, and I laughed about having 5 of them (I miscounted, I actually have 8 lol). That particular conversation was more so about how I called my mother bougie for owning the bags when I was a child, but I ended up purchasing them anyway.

Another moment was when I'd brought my laptop into work 2 days in a row, because I was having IT issues and needed to take it into work. I opted to bring it in and have it locked away, so that I did not have to risk it being stolen from my car and me then being tasked with the painstaking ordeal of replacing a government laptop. At the end of my shift, I went to the GC and asked her to unlock my laptop from the office. She then "jokingly" gave me grief about stashing my laptop under her desk (I had no damned clue that it was her desk, I merely stashed the thing where I was told), and walked in to find that she'd placed it elsewhere in the locked room. Honestly, I feel that as a retail worker, she felt some kind of way about seeing evidence of me having a life outside of our job, in addition to me having evidence of doing well financially outside of the gig.

I've mentioned to my colleagues that I feel that GC has a bit of a problem with me. They've all assured me that she's cool and couldn't possibly feel some type of way about me, as there's no need. And then today happened. I made my schedule so that I put down my free days 3 days a week, to not interfere with my other free time. I walked in today, ready for work, and was met by surprised looks- apparently, I wasn't on the schedule. As a matter of fact, I'm only on the schedule for 1 of my 3 open days. Fine by me, right? Heck, I'll take my ass to the gym, and post up in a coffeehouse somewhere. I pondered out loud why my schedule was what it was, especially during the holidays. I mean, I even was asked to come in during the past weekend (which I did), so clearly, there are a glut of hours to be worked.

But then someone happened to say in passing "I don't know, GC makes the schedule." I immediately knew what happened. I made it known to the managers that I am more than happy to take back my time and go home. I was again encouraged to stay. I even said to the store manager that I saw that I'm schedule off later in the week, and he pretty much told me to bring my ass on in to work my regular shift anyway. So GC tried to cut my coins, only to have her supervisor tell me to work anyway.

I worked my shift, as usual. No changes. But deep down, I was- I dunno, confused? GC was there, and she said nothing about the schedule change. She didn't bring it up, nor did I. I've been told (before today) that I should talk to her. But the fact is that I don't care about her enough to talk. This job is not my bread and butter (that's such an amazing feeling), nor do I really care about her thoughts or feelings about me to go hard for this.

I've had a previous job where a supervisor (also a woman) was just as petty. She'd make it a point to publicly go against me in meetings and say really slick shit out the side of her neck, once again, while in meetings. But during one-on-ones, she was a lamb. That was quite possibly one of the most toxic jobs I've ever had.

What always confused me about that job was once again, I didn't see myself competing with that supervisor. But I could tell from her catty and passive aggressive actions that she constantly found it necessary to keep me in my place. I didn't get it. I still don't. The funny thing is that I have continued to flourish in my career since leaving that dump. I couldn't be paid enough to go back there. I even continued to have nightmares about that job for 2 years after I left.

While with Dr. D last week, I'd found myself talking about how when I used to to church with Love, I noticed that the women there were a bit standoffish as well. Love isn't exactly a serial dater, so having the cute, middle-aged single Black man (and a well-respected member of his church, a minister, no less) suddenly pop up with me on his arm, couldn't have been too desired. Good thing they didn't talk to me, because had they known that his new girlfriend wasn't even a Christian, they probably would have burned him at the stake. But even then, I didn't consider myself in competition with those women. Love and I really enjoyed one another. And our relationship had nothing to do with any of those women who overtly ignored me whenever we bumped into one another in the ladies' room.

I'm just over this. I'm just in here to get outside of the home, be social, and collect my coins towards buying a home. That's it. I feel like the pied piper, just collecting bitter, angry, jealous ass women (and a few dudes), who'd rather hate me, than to take stock and fix the issues in their own lives. 

Look y'all, I'm not your competition. Never have, never was. But I gotta warn you. That by choosing not to compete, I'm already the VIP. Because I'm going to be joyful and love myself no matter what you do or say. I already won the match, and I haven't even warmed up yet.

Welcome Back to Therapy!

I've been meeting with my therapist just shy of a year now. I've really come to love and respect my time with her. I know from experience that finding a therapist who you enjoy and trust is pretty difficult and I feel very fortunate to have her in my life, even though it was my trauma that brought us together in the first place.

Dr. D had been away for the last month finishing up some trainings. In the meantime, I'd really looked forward to her return. There were updates with my family. More stuff that led me to further shut down toward them, while they simultaneously seemed to want more of my presence. UGH.

And then, there was Love.

I hadn't really talked a lot about Love to Dr. D before now. There was really no need. He was in the far reaches of my mind, nothing more than an occasional blip from my past. The men I'd talked to Dr. D about were my toxic ex and my vow to never cross paths with another man like him, and one other guy (another admitted mistake). As Dr. D and I got acquainted, I told her that I'd reconnected with Love and that he was truthfully the man in my life I'd come closest to marrying. My dear doc had a look of sheer shock on her face. "You?! Married?!" she said in her Nigerian accent. It's actually a bit funny to me that seems to be a common response when I speak of Love and my past intentions to say "I do" to him.

I have no one but myself to blame for that, however. I'll admit that I've been far louder in my cries for freedom than I have about my intentions to permanently boo up with any guy. I shared with Dr. D how I first met Love at a print shop as I printed out a paper for one of my first classes while at Clark. I looked at him and thought he was attractive, but with that baby face, I assumed he was a youngster, in his early 20s. As I stepped outside to leave, he chased me down and asked me to lunch. My first response was to ask his age. He surprised me be actually being 2 years older than me.

Quite honestly, at the time, I was a bit of an emotional mess. I'd just gone through some really heavy stuff in my personal life, on top of grieving my relationship with my son's father. I was coincidentally practically fighting men off with a stick. I was even considering cutting my hair, because I hated all of the attention it drew from men, but my best friend convinced me not to do so. I opted instead to wear my hair up in buns to avoid the leers of the male gaze. Anyway, I wasn't really trying to get with anyone in particular. Or at all.

Truthfully, had Love asked me for dinner or drinks, I would have rejected him instantly. But I loved that he asked me for lunch. Drinks or dinner hints at possible sexual opportunities. I took him asking me to lunch to mean that he really wanted to see me out of the bedroom, which was the only male attention I wanted or needed at the moment. He later told me that as he saw the title page of the paper that I was printing off, he was impressed, and felt that I must be pretty intelligent. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I also then shared with Dr. D what it was that made me finally break things off with Love. Essentially, I felt crowded, while simultaneously not feeling supported. All of the flowers, cards, and candy in the world means nothing if you feel like your partner isn't hearing, seeing, and accepting you as you are. I talked about how things fell apart (at least for me) during the wedding planning and some things that were important to me were being completely ignored, I also told her the things where Love said he'd felt things began to fall apart.

I went on to tell her how during our last couple meetings, he and I have cleared the air on a lot and how I'd love nothing more than to try "us" over again, as he and I have both brought more life experience, patience, and understanding into the fold. Strangely enough, while we'd planned a nice wedding before, if I got married these days, I'd opt for maybe 50-75 people, and keep it fun and simple. Nothing too fancy and not really Instagram worthy either. Doc chuckled hearing me discuss the possibility of a wedding/marriage of my own.

I admitted that while Love is clearly decompressing from his last relationship, I just have to be patient. I had a bit of "come to Jesus" moment yesterday while meditating, and I essentially recognized that I need to continue to focus on myself and that if I truly love Love, than I need to back up and allow him to process and grieve on his own accord, much as he did the same for me when we met. And if we get together, great. And if not? That's okay too.

Dr. D seemed rather pleased that there is actually a non-toxic man out there who I'm capable of loving and willing to spend the rest of my life (or at least a significant portion) with. I missed her terribly. As a mental health professional myself, I understand fully how sometimes you have to get those trainings in, lest your license/accreditation be rendered useless. But it felt nice to share this part of my life with her. I'll tackle the family stuff later. But for now? This lil corner in Dr. D's office is for me to talk about Love. Or at least my thoughts of being open to it.