1. No men without their shit moderately together – lovers, friends or otherwise. If your shit is not at least halfway there, don’t even talk to me. Don’t want to hear, don’t care. Be a grown-up, at least about your shit. Then maybe you can deal with my shit cuz I certainly have enough of my own to tend to, don’t need to tend to yours.
2. No more giving it away – affection, friendship, adoration, all that crap. If you want me to worship at your feet, you’re gonna have to earn that worship. If you want to squeeze into the now top three in my life, you’re gonna have to cure cancer. That list is closed solidly. You want my friendship, bring me gifts – your friendship, your trust, your respect. Otherwise, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.
3. My game, my rules. You don’t wanna play by my rules, take your toys and go home. I’m tired of “he’s just not into you” and bullshit like that that makes intelligent women like me crazy. From now, grab the bull by the horns. At least then I’ll know where I stand and not waste my time. If you don’t want your horns grabbed, then get out of the rodeo, cowboy.
4. No more trying to make everybody happy and make everything nice. Fuck nice. And I’m the only one who counts when it comes to happy. Okay, maybe if the cowboy lets me grab his horns, then he can be happy, too. As long as he doesn’t piss me off.
5. Yes, I’m moody and I’m sensitive and I push too hard and all the baggage that goes with that. Deal with it. Friends, lovers, whatever your status in my life, if you find me a handful or too pushy or whatever, again, door, toys, hitting your ass on the way out, etc. I am this wonderfully complicated, emotional, sensitive, caring, occasional temperamental package. You can’t change me. Others have tried. They are no longer in my life. Help me, hold my hand, guide me, show me but don’t try to make me something different. Not gonna happen.
6. No more men (or women, for that matter) that won’t take responsibility for their actions. If you can’t handle that your actions have consequences and you’re going to make it my fault when you fuck up, door, toys, hitting your ass, etc. I’m not responsible for you. I’m barely responsible for me. You fuck up, have the balls to admit it and I’ll try to do the same. I am not your mother. I am not your nanny. I am not your parental unit. Fix it, solve it, stop doing it. Look up responsibility in the dictionary and when you can spell it and define it, then come see me.
7. You think the Third Strike law is tough, wait’ll you get ahold of Susan’s law. You screw me once, that’s it. I’m tired of being forgiving and fixing and fighting for something that was so seriously wrong in the first place that it will never be right. Maybe, in a rare occasion, you’ll get parole and one more chance but don’t count on it. Even chocolate and begging cannot overcome some things.
I know, these rules may be harsh but this is what happens when I get hurt, I then get angry. And I kinda enjoy this kind of angry. It makes me feel in control of the situation instead of a victim of it. So read, enjoy, tremble if you see yourself in any of these, and let’s see what happens. Write your own list of rules, especially you other Cinderellas out there, and see what happens.
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