A few months ago, I was hanging around at the “C”, and there was just A, S, my friend B and I just chatting and enjoying a glass of red wine together… When four guys walk in… two Americans, one Moroccan guy (who has now become a friend of mine) and another British guy. One of the American guys was very inebriated, the rest of his friends seemed slightly embarrassed of him to be honest, but we all got to chatting. B told me that the drunk american (J) was looking at me very intensely (which I can’t deny was quite flattering, he’s very good looking, not really the sort of guy I usually go for, but if I were to say he looked like Christian Bale, I doubt many people would deny his attractiveness!). Anyway, we got talking about various subjects, and he turns to me and say “I love strong women. You are a strong woman. You’re very hot.” Now, you can’t deny, as lines go, that one wasn’t bad. Very complimentary… but if you try and analyse it, what does it really mean?
It’s interesting, because it is not the first time I have been called a strong woman… but why? I try and analyse it. I talk. I’m opinionated. I’m not shy (this all depends on the situation, because my good friends know that I can be extremely shy). I hold my ground. I don’t flinch away? I honestly believe that I give off an air of confidence, which is strange because I am probably one of the only people I know of suffers from crippling insecurities and bouts of self doubt. Some people wonder why, but I think it all stems from years of bullying that I suffered as a child, and given some situations I have found myself in sometimes, I understand why I am not a confident person. But as I have often repeated, I think that I give off this vibe of confidence, because I am so afraid of someone really getting to know me. Maybe that’s why I am single, because I’m too afraid to let someone see the real me, so I tend to self sabotage… and the last person I loved, and for the first time truly loved, was the first person I took a chance on (and subsequently lost). Of course, it’s not really his fault (some parts are but not all). It was my fault. Maybe I ran so blindly towards him was because I knew deep down he didn’t want me. He wanted someone else? Who knows?
Anyway, in the end, I don’t think I’m a strong woman… I think I’m just someone who is too afraid to want to ask for help, or to be looked after… so to compensate, you act as though you ooze self confidence.