73/365 “You’re Too Good For Me”

*Warning: this blog post is about to be a rant*

I was listening to the podcast, 2 Dope Queens today and not only is it one of the funniest things I’ve ever listened to it drops some serious truth bombs. One of the hosts was telling a tale about a failed college romance, and it made me freeze in my seat because of how familiar it sounded. There is this certain fantasy of the, “bad boy” and how they can be tamed or that one day those bad boys will turn around and confess their love for you. Spoiler alert: they won’t. Long story short, the host said that she waited three years for something to happen with this guy, and even though they did go on a date once it was prefaced by, “you’re just too good for me.” Freeze: and this is where I lose my mind.

This is the classic line of what I like to call, the sad boy. It’s the type of guy with the Flynn Rider kind of smolder, and who acts aloof and wounded all the time. Ladies, do yourself a favor and when you hear this you drop that guy like a hot potato. There is no point in wasting your time. What are you supposed to do with a comment like that? The answer is nothing, you are supposed to do nothing. You are supposed to walk away because you are too good for bullshit lines like that. It makes me think of that scene from He’s Just Not That Into You

People act like being a good person is such a mystery. That they can’t do any better than the cycle they’ve been stuck in. You want to stop being an asshole? It’s simple, make better choices. And if you’re fine with being an asshole, then be an asshole! But don’t pretend to be anything different, just be upfront with who you are and what you want. Now I won’t pretend that some people don’t have serious problems with addiction or depression that often dictate how they behave, but I think it comes down to choices. No more of this, “you’re too good for me.” If you wanted to be a good person then you would probably figure out how to do it.

Whether this line is simply that (a line) or an actual belief held by the person doesn’t really matter to me. It’s time we get real. No more excuses.


Day Seventy-Three


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