You know who you are.
I know I hide behind the “Just a Crazy Woman” virtual mask, but the truth is… I’m not. Sure, I’m a little nutty, pretty complex, at times eccentric, kinda creative and incredibly insecure… but I’m not in any way mentally deranged. I’m not certifiable. I’ve never even once been held in a straight jacket. Well, maybe once, but that was for something entirely different. Kinky does not mean crazy. Unless your definition of kinky involves barnyard animals. In that case, you’re both kinky AND crazy.
If I had a dime for every time a guy has told me about his “crazy” ex-wife or ex-girlfriend, I’d be living it up in Belize right now. Lounging in a hammock and enjoying the ocean breeze while sipping some sort of tropical drink with one of those cute little paper umbrellas.
I’d have to change my name to “Just a Rich Woman.”
I don’t know what it is. These men. Calling all their ex’s crazy. Are they? I mean really… are they? What does this say about you if you find yourself dating all these crazy women? There’s only one common denominator… and that’s you, baby.
Sure, I can say that I’ve never been in a “healthy” relationship. Obviously. I’ll be 37 in two weeks and have never been married or even remotely close to it. That’s gotta say something right there. Not that all marriages are healthy. Because I realize they’re not. And, please, save all the emails saying how much better it is getting married “later in life.” This is totally not the point of this blog.
I’m writing this blog to all the crazy people.
The people who are ruining it for the rest of us. Stop it. Stop going out with guys and scaring the hell out of them by falling in love with them on the second date. Stop the stalking. Stop the crying about wanting to have a baby even though you’ve only been dating a month. Stop trying on wedding dresses behind his back. Stop trying to control his every move and every breath. Just STOP IT!
Stop freaking a guy out so bad that it makes him project all YOUR craziness onto us normal people. I have my own issues. I don’t need yours, too. My insecurities are enough to keep me busy. I don’t have time to be blamed for your infidelities, manipulation and birth-control-pill-popping forgetfulness. Do you realize how hard it is for a guy to see the essence of who I am while your back-stabbing, rumor spreading, and heel stomping energy is floating in the way?
And to all you men who find it necessary to talk about your crazy ex’s.
Don’t. The last thing you need to tell some new person is about your last trip to Crazy Town. It scares us normal people. We then want to know why you went there. Did you just drive through? Did you stay only a night or two? Did you invest in property? How long was it before you realized where you were? And once you did, how quickly did it take you to get your ass out of town?
That is unless your new person is another crazy.
Then this will scare them into hiding their craziness behind a “normal” mask. It takes about 45 days for it all to seep to the relationship surface. By then it just might be too late because they’re already picking out His & Hers monogrammed bath towels.
I can honestly say I have never called an ex “crazy.”
Sure, they’ve been controlling. Abrasive. Uninterested. Lazy. Boring. Confusing. But crazy? Nope. I save that terminology for those who truly deserve it.
Thank you for your time,
Just a Crazy Woman
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