Clapping Back

We never know the true character of someone until we live with them or enter into a relationship with them and even then we are never sure of their quality of character.

I have found that most people’s true identities are revealed when you are no longer in their lives. The ending of love relationships are oftentimes the most revealing.

During the course of my life I have been plagued by individuals who wanted to be with me yet did not know how to handle me once given the opportunity. Therefore their confused minds created tremendous havoc in mine.

There was always a general tone of “Shall I stay or shall I go”. In my defense, I was able to overlook the short comings and work things out but their apprehensions made me tense, uncomfortable and anxious at times because I felt as if I were sitting in the midst of impending doom.

Nonetheless, when my relationships ended the devotion and adoration quickly turned into hate all because I was not willing go along with their crazy chaotic ride of indecision. It is then the venom starts spewing and all kinds of despicable comments find their way back to my ears.

For instance, I recently became privy to the fact that one of my exes went around telling people I cannot cook. He told them all I did was brine the food with salt or pickle it with pepper to make it appear as if I had culinary skills.

If that was not bad enough he then proceeded to fabricate a lie that on one occasion I had flooded his kitchen with water trying to make lunch. The way he told the story it seemed as if they needed a hazmat team to quell the disaster I created.

I have decided to clap back as the young people say because I am sick and tired of all the useless and libelous gossip that is spewing from the X-Men. As long as I stayed in their psychotic webs life was fine and dandy, as soon as I exercised my right not to be an arse, it is all hells bells and bacchanal.

I just get a chuckle when men pretend they are too perfect to leave. Or perhaps because I became the trend setter. Any way, I just want to clarify the fact that my parents did not raise me to be a hausfrau.

I grew up knowing how to run a household and being taught certain home economic skills so that when I had my own home I would know exactly how to have it running in tip top shape.

Most of the times when I do cook it is for my own satisfaction. Occasionally, I will bake pastries or delicacies as gifts to test them out for market research. But, I have never declared myself as a chef-extraordinaire.

There are some people who rave about my cooking and there are others who believe they are the heir apparents for Julia Child. I am not bothered by their assumption, it is their right to feel that way.

My point is, when I am home I can make a meal for myself or go out and partake in a meal. When in a relationship and the person is of a good character, I don’t mind every once in a while making a snack or dinner. But, it also goes both ways.

If I cater to you then you also have to cater to me. But do not sit on the sidelines ripping my efforts to threads because you are too lazy to woo me properly. My parents never raised me to be glued to housework and if I am not married to you then you get what you get and don’t be upset.

If a paramour acts with quality and substance he will surely get back quality and substance . But if he tries to be a smarty pants then he will get a minx on heels.

The truth of the matter is this particular person is just trying to ease his conscience because he was barely present throughout most of our relationship. He saw me as an object to possess, or some sort of trophy and was amused by my Lucy moments.

Since I put an end to his “party” well let’s just say he has decided to act like a royal Mitch. Go figure!