7 Reasons I’m a commitment-phobe

So it took all of 5 posts for me to stop writing on here, not all that far off my prediction. Maybe I should sack it all in and pursue a career as a psychic? Seems legit.

For real though, and the only reason I’m writing this is because I have no data on my commute home. It’s no surprise to me that I find something so simple, so difficult, because I am a total commitment-phobe. Please see examples attached:

One: I am completely incapable of making a solid plan. Ask any of my friends, I don’t agree to any plans without at least saying ‘I’ll just check my diary’. Bitch, you know you ain’t got no plans.

Two: ‘I don’t even want a boyfriend, it seems like so much hassle’ she says. For the most part true, but a small part of that is my icy selfish heart.

Three: I was reading up on commitment-phobes and apparently a common trait is being charming, so that makes sense.

Four: Also, they are apparently really unorganised in their personal life. Anyone that knows me knows I live my day to day life like a bull in a china shop. Disastrous.

Five: Just to go back to what I opened with, I can’t even keep up a twitter account. Let alone a whole BLOG. Or anything else.

Six: I have had my job for almost an entire year and the thought of it makes my hands clammy. Am I still going to be in the office when I’m 60? AM I ALREADY 60!?

Seven: Cheeky make out in a bar? Thanksss, yeah take my number, sureeee. (But please don’t ever text me, I would rather eat worms than cope with the awkwardness of ever conversing with you again)

Soooo, for anyone that has ever asked why I am single.. this may be a pretty good tell. I’m the best three C’s. Cold, Charming & Clammy. I think there is probably a fourth that sums it all up a little better.. I just cunt quite put my finger on it.

Growing up with a Resting Bitch Face

So apparently I have been giving the look up and down since I could open my eyes. Old lady squeezing my baby self’s chubby cheeks? Eye roll. Reaching for a high shelf as a toddler, stranger tries to help, “Mind your business lady” (real quote).

If anything I think these show a long standing sense of independence & for the record, I still don’t people squeezing my chub.

As many people have written about before, Resting Bitch Face is not a path that you choose, it is something you are born with. But no one seems to write about what it is like to grow up with it. So here’s my take:

One: As previously mentioned, loosing cute factor with the elderly. You go from a bundle of joy to boulder of contempt in the blink of an eye.

Two: It took 12 years of life to learn to smile with teeth. Now I’m not entirely sure of if this has anything to do with my teeth being shaped like a smile within a smile pre-braces. But a toothless smile only made me look even more like a sassy little bitch.

Three: Never being able to get a day off school, because your happy face wasn’t all that different from your sad/sick face.

Four: Passport Control double checking your passport on the way out of the country, because your actually smiling for once and don’t look like the ring leader of a juvenile gang. Waved straight back through after your flight home though.

Five: The ability to terrify grown adults. I think it was the silent, calm stare that would be the reply to a cheery question or request. “If looks could kill”, is a phrase that I have had follow me for as long as I can remember. With any luck, it’ll stick around, it holds so much power.

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