There's a cycle that I routinely go through.
I say something. I have the best of intentions. Sometimes I want to commiserate. Sometimes I want to examine. At any rate the intention is not to hurt.
I am misunderstood. By someone I feel knows me rather well.
There's no pause. There's no desire to double check and see if I meant that. I am unapproachable. I am beyond reason. The negative intent assumed from my words is taken as fact and I am to be charged at full speed ahead.
I have a tendency to share with people relatively quickly. I follow my heart (platonic or romantic) where ever it may lead. In spite of being in the same situation thousands and thousands of times I still hope and get excited. So I open myself up. Because that's what you do when you're forging new friendships.
It is....it's hurtful to keep sharing intimate parts of myself with people just to end up at this place. This place where I'm the loud angry black woman all over again. Where people that I have shared secrets with, or given money to, or had in my home feel like their only choice is to talk about me instead of to me.
People rarely ask me what I meant. They just assume the worst. I know I'm the commonality so I'm the problem but I can't figure out how to fix it. I'm just...tired. Tired of having my feelings hurt or having people I thought I knew assume the worst of me.
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