Today, I indulged in hours-long foray into the blogosphere of writers, feminists, and overall amazing bloggers.  Bliss.  Somehow, I went from this to this.  That last one there?  I laughed, brooded, and laughed again.  But what I would typically be afraid to admit before, I will do it here and now.  It struck a nerve in me.

Mostly because all of these guys with their contrived (and very weak) efforts to attract a girl skeeve me out.  They confirm for me over and over again why I hated to date and rarely ever did.  They’re the epitome of everything I could not stand about most of them.  I can already imagine the word “man-hater” getting ready to be slung at me.

Guess what? I was that girl who felt pity and would excuse the crudeness of their attitude in order to uncover the gem they could potentially be. I was that girl who allowed guys to speak to me in ways they never should have been allowed to.  I had let them tell me how I should look (and believed my Viking secretly loved long-haired women best).  How nerve-wracking was my recent step into just cutting all my hair off into a very short pixie cut that I adore now.  Because I will not be that girl again.

Then, it goes further than that and the reality is that it’s not about them.  They’re components of a part — regardless of their gender — of humankind that I would just like to never have anything to do with, ever again.  I say that because I was that girl who was afraid to speak up when I was being emotionally attacked by not just men, but everyone else.  When I was experiencing rude encounters.  When I had an idea but was dismissed.  I let myself be dismissed.  I will not be that girl again.

I didn’t believe others had to suffer the unnecessary, yet I would make myself  do so.  I made allowances for others’ behaviors, accepting their weak excuses (in the logic that perhaps they did not know how to verbalize a better explanation).   I was then forbidden by those same types of people to have the same courtesy extended to me.  I will not be that girl again.

I have insulted my Viking’s honesty, sincerity, and intelligence.  He rightly would get upset when other men spoke to me inappropriately, but I would tell him he was being too harsh.  Their motives would become clear and I just didn’t have the heart to tell them that they were insulting the relationship the Viking and I have.  Instead, I would quietly and eventually block them, not wanting to give voice to what they were doing to me without feeling like I was pulling too much attention to myself.  I will not be that girl again.

And so it goes.  My Viking healed me, respected me, revered me, and lifted me up.  He was like no man I knew.  Yet I had such a difficulty accepting it.  Believing it.  It was too good to be true.  It took time, oh, his gradual patience, but I’ve learned not to insult his sincerity.  I’ve learned that our love just keeps growing between us.  I was shattered when a friend I thought was close to me told me that my Viking would eventually hate me.  I believed it and accepted his hateful words towards me.  I was so accepting of the imagined worst to come with my Viking.  I will not be that girl again.

I cared too much about the pains of others at my own expense.  I cared whether or not people will approve or be offended.  I forced myself to watch big screen movies with no closed captioning, no comprehension of what’s going on, because I allowed people to tell me that I would regret it if I didn’t.  Or I made myself believe that I would be a party pooper, allowing my disability to get in the way, if I didn’t go to the movies with them.  I told myself I had to enjoy the preaching of a preacher in a church with no interpreter because I shouldn’t play the deaf card.  Damn it, I will not be that girl again.

I was a wall flower.  I wanted to play no cards (deaf, woman, shy, abused) but simply to fade away from a scene of possible humiliation or confrontation.  I knew in those scenes, I would allow myself to be swayed by the opponent who would play him/herself out to be the victim.  No.  No, I will not be that girl again.

I’m a work in progress.  I will simply crumble if I don’t strive to make that progress happen.  Otherwise, there would be nothing left of me.  No, I’m not going to let that happen.  I will not be that girl again, never again.