...the internet, my husband, and my grandparents. To everybody else I am this arrogant bitch that nobody can stand. It hurts me more than anything else, this little fact that I am always misjudged - even by my own family. I rarely talk about it, or complain - because I am 27 years old, not 13... and let's be honest, once your teenage years are a thing of the past, drama of "nobody likes me" is getting a bit old.

I just logged off IM chat with my own sister, after she insulted me very badly last week in front of the whole family, and even though she initiated the talk right now, saw no reason to apologize, but just came up with this new load of insults on top of the old one, as justification on why, in fact, I would have to apologize to her.

Basically... I finally need to open my eyes and look around me, to realize what people are thinking about me, how nobody really can stand me at all, even those claiming to be my friends, how everybody just deals with me out of pity. I am the definition of arrogance, I try to make everybody dance to the blow of my whistle, and I keep my husband's testicles firmly gripped in my iron claws. I am generally unbearable, annoying, overbearing, a burden, and if I'd only finally open my eyes, I'd see how everybody is right in thinking such about me, and I am very wrong about everything: my views about others, my views about the world, my views about myself. Mostly about myself, cause, let's face it, I am not much of THE SHIT(tm) at all, which I so delusionally think myself to be.

And the very fact that I reacted to all of this like every other human being with a heart beating inside their chest would, proves that deep down inside I know that this is true. Otherwise I wouldn't take it so much to heart.

Or would I...?

How else should I react? All throughout my life I have been misjudged and deserted by people who I thought deserved my love, I have been betrayed, I have been left, I have been badly hurt. I know I should probably back up such a broad generalization with actual accounts of what happened, but for the most part these things are better left in the past where they belong.

As a result, the time I need to warm up to a person and consider them a friend has gotten longer and longer over the years, and is now to a point where I refuse to consider anybody I newly meet a friend at all, no matter how much time passes. I am reluctant to approach new people to the point of where I can't do it anymore at all, relying heavily on my extremely social husband in such matters. As a result, nobody ever remembers the quiet woman by his side, while he makes friends and acquaintances wherever he goes. And if somebody does remember me, I am remembered as arrogant... for "quiet and shy" apparently equals "full of myself". It has even gotten so bad, amplified by my miscarriage, that I now retreat from the few proven friends that I do have as well. I feel safest and most protected at home, with nobody else around me. Not even my husband. I do not pick up my phone anymore unless absolutely necessary, and I don't return phone calls. I avoid leaving the house unless absolutely necessary, and I decline requests of going out and having fun at nighttime every time now.

Of course I understand how this behavior can be interpreted as "arrogant" and "unfriendly". The sad part is that nobody ever questions me about it, or tries to find out the reasons behind it. Nobody cares. They stuff me into some kind of pre-fabricated idea of how they THINK I am like, and there is no getting out of it. And every little thing I do is categorized to fit right in. My dream wedding, for instants? Something that was so beautiful, just as I always dreamed it would be, and required so much work and organization from both of us? Just proves my self-centered megalomania without regards for others, especially not my husband. My attempts at defending myself against assaults like the one my sister hauled at me? Just proves how arrogant I am, and hard-headed, and blinded to the truth that everybody sees but me. My more and more pronounced existence as a hermit, born of hurt and rejection from people? Proves how I think I am better than everybody else, and lead an absolutely boring life with no idea what REAL fun is like.

The list goes on. And on. And on.

So, pathetically, I write about it on the internet, on a blog that hardly anybody ever reads. I write the truth off my chest on the internet, the truth I would never tell anybody outright, for fear it would be interpreted as yet another instance of feeling sorry for my poor self, and an attempt to draw even more attention to myself than I already suck up on a day-to-day basis. I retreat more and more into my art, into my work, into myself.

Of course all of these reactions and my turning away from what is hurting me just adds to the fire, and seems to confirm what everybody already seems to think they know about me.

Nobody gives me a chance, nobody sees behind my shell, nobody cares to do so. The only people I can be who I know I am inside with are my husband, and my grandparents. My husband, who is in full posession of his testicles, and does the things he does - however they might seem to the outside world - out of his OWN. FREE. WILL, has said on numerous occasions how I am the most gentle and selfless and loving person he has ever seen when I am with my grandparents.

And it's true... but why is it true? Because they LET me be this way. They WANT me to be this way. They LOVE me this way, they KNOW I am this way. I couldn't be any different with them if I wanted to - the problem is that I want to be this way with EVERYBODY... but that's just not happening. All my love and the things I want to do for others are contained to my own little nest, where I sit most of the time, abandoned by the world. And if I do show it, it's immediately turned against me, in the assumption that I am just nice because I want something for it in return.

I really shouldn't care. I shouldn't write it down, either. But hey - the internet is the only thing that listens - and it doesn't throw an insult right back.

Where is this heading? How much more can I do than avoid as much contact to people as I possibly can, and stay home within my own walls, contained to my own loneliness and hurt?

Maybe this is the reason why I want a child so badly right now - because for at least a few years, there will be a person who'll love me unconditionally, without judging me and without turning it's little back on me, much less insulting me. A person who I can love as much and intensely as I want to love everybody else, and who will receive that love unconditionally. At least until it'll hit it's teenage years. And when THAT happens, I hope that it'll me much like it's father... and not at all like it's dysfunctional unbearable mother.