Lately I’ve been living in my happy place; it’s all about me and I like it that way. There’s no one asking me what’s for dinner? Do we have to go to that party? Are you really going to wear that? I do what I please, when I please and, quite frankly, this pleases me. But it does lead me to ask the question: has divorce made me selfish? And if so, is that really such a bad thing?
Before I got married I was anything but selfish. I was the poster child for people-pleasers everywhere. If you looked up people pleaser in the dictionary, my picture would have been there. And if I’d made a career of it I probably would be a very wealthy woman today. But after being married to a man who was very rarely pleased with anything I said or did, this penchant I had for pleasing was literally drained right out of me. As a result, I’ve lost my poster child status and my need to please a man has become a blip on the radar of my every day life. And this makes me wonder if I’ll ever be willing to please anyone, ever again.
Lately I’ve been dipping my big toe back in the dating pool and it occurs to me that I might actually meet a man I like. I might see him again, more than once, enter into a relationship with him and then what? Then, I’d have to be willing to please him, even if I’m not in the mood. I mean maybe I want to see a movie and he wants to go to a concert. Or I crave Chinese and he wants Italian for dinner. Then what? I’d have to compromise, at least once in a while, in order not to behave like a totally spoiled bitch that always has to get her way. But then, I think, maybe I’m being hasty. Maybe being the selfish one all the time would be a nice change of pace for me.
I have seen women like this and to be honest, some of my best friends are bitches. It’s always astounded me how they end up with the nicest guys on the planet (the male equivalent of me in my people-pleasing days) who give them whatever they want just because they want it. Frankly I have always had a kind of fascination for this type of behavior and have often wondered how they do it.
I can’t help but think that the grass really would be greener on the other side of the fence if I went to live in Bitch Town, where bitches rein supreme. The thought of going there, of actually taking up residence there temporarily consoles me, yet I remain confused. Could a reformed people-pleaser like me actually live in Bitch Town? I’d definitely need to take lessons or read a book on the subject; do you think there’s such a thing as Bitch-Town school or could I get a private tutor or something?
The people-pleaser in me is horrified by this entire concept, of course, but that behavior was far from successful last time around so what have I got to lose, I ask myself. Maybe I should take a spin through Bitch Town, see the sights and join the ranks of women who know how to get their way or at least get the tee shirt for my efforts.
I could always return to people pleasing if my foray into this new territory doesn’t fly. And besides, a change of pace would probably do me good. At least I’d be able to stay in my happy place for a little while longer and not only would that be a lot less work but let’s face it, it would probably be a hell of a lot more fun.