I could never claim to be perfect. Or be without flaws and faults. One of my favorite quotes, by Augusten Burroughs, states “I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.” I find this to be completely true of myself. Though I have flaws, I do have good intentions. I have compiled a list of flaws, faults, shortcomings. Just a few though. I don’t want to highlight every negative aspect of myself. I have always thought if you are well aware of the negative attributes, you are better able to recognize them, work on them, or just own them.

I am a spoiled brat. I have been called spoiled and bratty my entire life. I always laughed it off, never really paying it any mind, until one day it actually stung. Usually people never said it in a way that made me want to question it, but when it was said that day I found it really hurtful, and it made me really think about why people pegged me as a spoiled brat. Although I am the middle child of 5, I was the youngest for a long time. There are 11 years in between me and my younger brother. By the time he was born, the damage was done. For 11 years, I was the baby. The baby girl. Of course my older siblings bullied me, as most do, but they protected me like I was a piece of fine china. If I felt incapable of doing something, they did it for me. They felt like they were taking care of me. My mom always had the mentality that she wanted to give her children all the things she never got. As a child of frugal parents, she was never really given the opportunity to just go out and shop. But thats what we did. We bonded over shopping. Every opportunity, we were shopping. We could be bored on a random Wednesday night, so we would head to the mall. I found that she had trouble saying “no” to me. I remember one shopping trip I found a pair of black shoes. I probably had 3 other pairs just like it. She told me I didn’t need them. She was right. But instead, I said “Fine. I don’t need them”. She felt bad. She went back to the store and bought me those shoes. My dad was a little bit more strict, demanded more from me. But he felt that if he had something to give, we should have it. Love, money, toys. I always get lectures from my dad, especially about the value of hard work. But he still gave me what I needed. I don’t want to blame my parents or my siblings for being spoiled, because I have continued this behavior. I manipulate situations to my advantage. I’ve cried in relationships in order to get my way. It happens a lot less these days. Its like people don’t accept a 27 year old crying about meaningless fights that won’t be remembered in 5 years, or even a few weeks. I can still manipulate a lot of situations to my advantage, with or without the tears. The only difference between now and then is the fact that I realize its not right, I feel bad about it, and even though I still tend to do it, I apologize and try better. 

I can be seen as terribly needy. As mentioned in previous posts, I am an extrovert down to the core. I need people. I always have, and I always will. I want to be surrounded by people most of the time. Its very rare that I need alone time. Usually when I do, its because my crying isn’t for my manipulative benefit. Its truly because I’m hurting. Hurting to the point that I need to cry a lot, take a hot shower, and sleep. Plus, most people don’t know how to comfort someone. Its either they stand there looking at you or say something unbelievably wrong like “I understand”. If you can’t comfort me like I want, as in you hold me and let me cry without judgement, then let me be alone. Other than that, I want you near me. All the time. I tend to forget people aren’t like me, so for most, I can be seen as clingy and needy. I’m really capable of doing a lot on my own. But its never as fun as having someone there with you. Picture this: you’re watching a funny movie. You laugh so hard you’re crying. You look to your side. And no one is there. No one is sitting there laughing with you. But picture it with someone there. Sharing the laugh. Its just THAT much better. When I have a problem, I want to share it. With everyone. I may not take anyone’s advice, but I would like advice from at least 5-10 people. Oddly enough, I live alone. But thats referring to my first flaw. I find that I want my space exactly the way I like it, and roommates tend to muddy that thought up. But come over anytime, and we’ll hang out and drink some beers. 

I tend to touch too much. I love to touch people. No, I don’t just walk up to strangers and touch them. But if we’re talking, I might just reach out and touch your arm. When I’m upset, I need to be touched. I need hugs, cuddling, any form of physical affection. In relationships, I’m extremely affectionate. I want to be touching my significant other a lot. I enjoy cuddling, laying together, holding hands, everything. It might shock people how often I touch them. This is definitely one of my qualities I am most aware of, especially working in a mental hospital. Sometimes, there are patients I just want to reach out, grab, and hold until all their problems feel as though they have disappeared. But real life doesn’t work that way, and some people don’t enjoy my touching. You can notice me putting my hands in my pockets, or playing with my hair, or talking with my hands. I keep busy so I don’t touch. 

I am hypersensitive. I’m like a female just before her period, all the time. Sorry if that was too graphic for the guys (If it was, grow up). I can be extremely offensive, but I can’t always take what I dish out. I tend to joke about how often I cry. 

I love compliments. Sorry if I like to be told I’m beautiful, pretty, have a nice outfit on. Its not because I’m insecure. I truly think I’m beautiful, but its always great to hear it. If  we’re dating, say it. Often. Theres nothing worse than never hearing a compliment. I don’t need to hear it every time I see you, but if you think it in your head, then say it. I will compliment you, so compliment me. I can guarantee someone else is, but I would rather hear it from you. 

I overanalyze everything, Typical girl, right? I don’t just overanalyze. I worry. Like unnaturally worry. If a guy doesn’t answer my text, I’m more likely to think he’s dead than cheating on me. I come by it honestly. My mom worries like its her job. I’ve always thought she was annoying about it, and now I do it. No clue why.

I am extremely sentimental. I think everything could be a memory. Let’s make sure we save the movie ticket from the first movie we ever go to together. We could look back on it when we’re 50 and reminisce. But really, I want pictures of everything. I want to make every minute count. We’ll be apart for a few days? Sorry, I’m going to miss you.

I could add at least 20 things to this list, but I really think these might be my major problem areas. So just let me have my way, hold me, text me back on time, don’t be mean to me, tell me I’m beautiful, and take pictures with me all the time. If you do that, we’ll be just fine. 

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