I look scary to other people.
That’s the only conclusion I can draw, with the way people react to me.
I don’t wear makeup. I have short hair. I don’t plaster on a fake customer service smile at all times, so resting b1tch face. I wear dark colors. And, worst of all, I’m obese.
People act like they have to walk on eggshells around me, though I’ve never been mean or angry to them.
I used to play meek and mild, apologetic and pleading for leniency in my tone of voice, forgive me for how I look, just be nice to me. Unconsciously copying my mother. Now, I just don’t care. People dislike me either way. Better to just be a butch b1tch who somehow never actually treats people sh1ttily.
And because of my career choice, I’m “intimidating” to my husband’s friends. The same friends who tend to be like,”Tradition is dumb! Girl power! Wear makeup only if you want to! Women in science!” I don’t seem to count, though. I look too scary, don’t act submissively, speak when I haven’t been spoken to, and make too much money to be their friends. I’m automatically mean and unapproachable. Oh well. As I often spout off on this blog, all I can do is be kind to those who will accept it from someone like me.
I can’t wait to be S7 Cersei for Halloween. I can’t wait to see how people react to me. Particularly my husband’s friends. I may have some stories for this blog a month from now, about how just standing around and existing caused the female half of The Couple to get flustered and anxious.