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It's Hard Being Easy Going

They hate how much they love you girl

By Ariel Celeste PirelaPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
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This is to all the girls who are hard not to love but easy to despise- welcome to the first forum for us.

Thinking back on all your interactions, the firmest memories you have are seeing the unique ways people have swung on their heels to turn their backs on you. It’s a collection of moves that aren’t quite ballet, but not in the full swing of jazz.

Remembering when times were sweet then there was one thing you said that scratched the record. Damn. We were having so much fun.

People remember you as the villain in their story. All because you have a habit of saying mean things that are true. Innocent inquiries that end up being Freudian slips. They not. But Freud said so and it’s his word over yours.

You sit at The center of conversations that range from all temperatures. The song birds that sang your praises morphed into mocking birds over night. The mocking birds morphed into buzzards. Damn. What did I even do?

The only Safe space seems to be in your own head. You give it a try— only to find a traffic jam of voices in your head that don’t belong. The voices that coax you to believe your current social status or lack thereof is all your fault.

“That girl play too much.” Coming from your main playmates? Weird.

“That girl too messy.” Because I added my two cents into a conversation y’all started? Bet. “That girl fake.” Why? Because I stand on principle and remove habitual line steppers with impunity? Wow.

You keep an active inventory in your head of all the relationships that turned south. Did you have it coming or did they? Is the sudden end of yet another “friend” a tragedy or a triumph?

There’s more questions than there are answers so you shift back to Keeping the main focus the main focus. Unless you got an ADHD brain like mine.

“Nah, fuck that.” And you go deeper. Back into your brain!

Your one most consistent friend in the world is the real bitch in your Brian. I’ve named mine Ariel. Not like the birds eye view “aerial” That white people call me. The version my mother wanted me to be “Are-Ri-Elle”

Sometimes she’s Celeste because most girls named Celeste are cuckoo. Being crazy is the most freeing existence.

Now you’ve arrived at the same destination for the 100th time. “I must be the only real bitch left in this world. These girls all seem to be continuously drifting from center. Making it confusing to even begin to try and fit in, let alone, relate to these girls.

I like talking to women who laugh at the exact same time I do. Not the ones who wait for my queue. I like the girls that finish my sentences and I respond with “exactly” or I can stop talking altogether and wrap the chat with a church wave to the ancestors. I like the girls that don’t size me up but won’t stop their commitment to hyping me up. I’m here for the girls that say to the messy hoes, “Nah, such and such is a sweet girl— y’all Wildin.”

It used to be easy to connect with women. Then out of no where they put their jazz shoes on and starting going Cheney turns in the opposite direction.

“damn, what I did now?”

It’s way easier to get along with dudes because they ain’t trying to be you. Guys are actually your biggest fans. They see the real you. The see how different you are than the rest of these girls out here and they worship you.

Now a whole new group of Moulin Rouge bitches doing a whole new routine of pirouette turns.

“Y’all mad I have a man or that I got one before you?”

We all wanted the same thing and I was wonderful when I was your wing woman. Now that I have a man you realize how much you can’t stand to see me win in an area you swore you outranked me in.

Little secret to all the jazz hands turning girls- men don’t like bitter women.

I can’t tell these women that so I just move on gracefully.

I want friends I can learn from. Ones who want to teach me without taking ownership for “making me who I am” i was born who I am that’s not changing. I’m open to adapt to new forms but the most fatal flaw is thinking you know me like that.

Why do women fixate on figuring you out?

As you can tell my stream of consciousness expands far beyond sitting around figuring out one single female.

The agents in my brain are much more curious on how to continuously sustain this blessed position in society.

Being the girl that only the real recognize as hard to hate and easy to love. I leave the hard work to the haters and I hope you do too, boo!

healing
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About the Creator

Ariel Celeste Pirela

Ariel Celeste Pirela is committed to maximizing potential for others & documenting her own growth along the way. She leads a millennial motivation movement by instilling confidence, creativity and conviction with her affirmation products.

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