The Unpalatable Truth

I am not nice. Firstly, it is a wishy washy word with very little oomph (and, if I have anything going for me, it is my oomph!).

Secondly, it doesn't actually mean what people use it to mean, anyway. It means 'accurate'. Like, "Make a plumb line. Make sure it's a nice line." And, in that sense, I may well be nice. Especially when riled. I can be scathing, acidic, startlingly blunt and positively spiteful. My verbal skills make for an accurate weapon!

Thirdly, and most importantly, I am not actually nice. I have a very strong survival instinct, honed over several years of bad choices, which sometimes has an impetus of its own. Coupled with my lateral humour, that makes for someone who is easily capable of saying or doing appalling things (mostly saying, to be fair, but that has its own impact!).

I'd really like you to know, at this point, that I am a lot of fun. I have many friends who think I am worth the effort. I am witty; kind; thoughtful; persistent; inventive; amusing; clever; loyal.....the list of great things is endless - modesty aside. I am not, however, nice!

There are two sides to this. Most often my 'not nice'ness is exposed when someone takes advantage or tries to back me into a corner. Most people think that other people are like them. They assume that the things they fear are the common fears. Most people have a horror of public confrontation. I do not. I have more balls than a field of prize bulls and more brass than an Essex barmaid! I have absolutely no problem standing my ground, pushing the envelope or being real in a public space. So - if someone tries to control a situation by putting pressure on me in public, my immediate reaction is to respond "Yeah? Really? How much neck do you really have? Because I have a whoooooole lot of neck right here!". The reasoning is simple. People who will respond badly to how I behave are not people I want to mix with. So if I stand my ground and defy a manipulator, and someone feels I shouldn't be 'making a fuss'? Well - they have joined the wrong circle. I should probably not be friends with them. In this particular dance fire is met with flaming thunderbolts and rains of lava!

I will do almost anything for someone who is important to me. It makes me happy that people I care about are happy. I will seriously put myself out to play a part in creating that happiness. I will do whatever it takes, including letting them go, to allow them happiness. That makes me happier, knowing they are not bound by anything other than choice.

I will not be forced to do anything. I am likely to refuse at that fence - whether I wanted to help, initially, or not. I will give almost everything I have and I am. I will allow nothing to be taken from me.

The second, and more immediate, hue of my unpleasantness is situated in my selfishness. I like me. I think I deserve to be happy. I like simple happinesses. Interaction with people who matter. Play with friends. Attention. Quiet times. Just stuff which feeds the soul. Unfortunately, I can be so focused on my enjoyment that I overlook the consequences, or potential consequences, of my actions. Sometimes it just needs to be pointed out to me "You know? It hurts when you do that" or "It is bothersome when you..." or even "It would be easier for me if you might stop...." Sometimes I am so wrapped up in having fun that I don't think the damn thing out. It's not always nice.

Yesterday, I think I did that. I think I may have behaved in a way which was not very thoughtful. Unfortunately, for me, the person I may have mistreated is the one person I have met in the last 18 months who I like enough to want to find out if there might be something a bit more serious than 'fun' between us. Not to say we have got anywhere near considering that. Just that he is the one person I would consider taking the walk to find that out with, so far. He's pretty special and I think it's worth finding out if we could be pretty special to each other, at some point. Only, I behaved selfishly. I was so caught up in games which were giving me loads of attention and making me feel like the prettiest princess at the party, that I did not consider how those games might have impacted on him.

And now I feel pretty rubbish about that. The problem is, of course, that by the time you get to 'sorry' it's too damn late! You don't apologise for breaking a vase until it's broken.

I'm just not a very nice person, sometimes. And sometimes, I think it would all be much easier (if rather less interesting!) if I were.