Why do I always have to be the strong one?
May I introduce myself? I am the strong one. I can tell you everything, even at two o'clock, I have understanding for everything, always advice, I give night quarters, cook for you and persuade you to jog.
I can do everything. Always. And: I never complain! I keep worry for myself. Sadness I do away with aerobics, taps I fix myself. I'm customizing your cat when you're on vacation. I treat your marriage. I'm always in a good mood and make you laugh when you get exhausted from your work.
The girlfriends get attention. And you yourself? Nothing.
Because my job is not difficult. He is easy and well paid. I am never frustrated, have nothing to complain about. Never to complain. No tear to shed. When a man leaves me, I laugh after him and think: Thank God, I'm off! And look for a new one. That I divorced twice - so what? That almost did not hurt. For that, I do not have to howl for months and two million times with you to roll the question back and forth: go or stay? I do not have that much time. Because we have to talk about you and your marriage. Since I'm not even with my woes.
Everything is easy with me. I left the house to the ex, renounced maintenance and raised both children alone. I have heard of married housewives, they are also single parents. Her husband is never there. Since I just thought: He brings at least the money home. And decide on the school issues. But I did not protest. Anyone who believes that he is a single parent with a well-off husband does not talk to him about how it really is. I was always father and mother at the same time. And when the children are in trouble, it's clear: I do not have them under control. But the subject is too complicated to chatter and moan. I'll do that with me.
I need no compliments, no encouragement.
You call and complain that your husband forgot the wedding day. It is so humiliating! The best day in your life! I refrain from asking if it was his best day. I say: buy yourself a bouquet. And let's go to the cinema. You laugh again. Well, that's me. In a good mood. And good for you.
When I'm sick, you do not need to bring me soup. To the pharmacy, I can do it all myself. And when I discover new wrinkles, overweight and a hole in the stocking, I'm still far from doubting my attractiveness. I need no compliments, no encouragement from you. I'm not afraid of age. No, I'll leave that to you. And I comfort, advise, encourage. I'll flatter you if you have a new cloth. You can overlook my mad great pantsuit confidently. Has only cost half a month's salary. And that he stands for me, the saleswoman has already told me.
Do not ask, by mistake, how I am doing. You do not want to know. You want to tell me how you are. For this we use my telephone charges. No problem, now I have a flatrate. And of course I have enough time, because my household is almost automatic. With me is always tidy. And I can eat a nice evening for three, four people I can improvise anytime. Of course you do not need to bring anything, a good wine is always there. And flowers grow in the garden. Because I am the strong of the service. The stupid idiot. Your mental rubbish bin.
As a strong one, you also want to be weak
And you know what? I'm so tired of it. I also want to be on my arm, I also want to be petted. Are you disappointed when I tell you that my strength is afraid? Afraid to confide in you. Fear of disappointment because you do not listen to me. Because I have experienced so many times, what comes next: Oh, I know that. It was like that for me ... A blink - and we're back to you and your sensitivities. And I was just the stooges. Or you say: Oh, come on, is not that bad. You can do it. You are so strong.
Maybe, I am unfair. Maybe your sympathy would suddenly come to life if something really bad happened to me. But should I wait for that?
When may I moan? And who listens to me?
Of course, it's my own fault. I always wanted to play the strong. Your moaning about the eternal same grief with the guys: He wants me yes, he just does not know it yet. Your exaggerated worries about the dear little ones. My God, he has a reading-spelling weakness! Your fear of not being beautiful enough. The O-legs, the thin hair! It pissed me off. I wanted to have a nice life. And knew that I'm the only one who can do it to me. I knew that when I was 14. I trained my self-confidence because I wanted to become a reporter.For this I addressed people on the street and asked for the time, later, then, as a more difficult variant, asked for a mark for fare. This hardened me and strengthened my belief in me and humanity. But now I'm not 14. Also, my stock of optimism, fighting spirit and bravery is limited. I could use someone stronger now. But nobody is there.
Why do some women believe that the world owes them something? That they deserve understanding, compassion and help? And others, like me, believe that I have to do everything on my own. Does that have something to do with the genes?
Certainly. And also with the conviction of what one has earned. Supporting others was not my first yearning when I moved into the world. I preferred the great, the enviable. Of course, one can not have both: the envy and compassion of others. So I got the envy. And you the compassion. Do we want to swap times? But what should I envy you for? Every day you lose either your mobile phone, your key or your credit card. And I help search. You smoke chain, do a boring job. And you do not release yourself from your dormant marriage. No, there really is no envy.
You have always carried your weakness before you and I have given you space to feel really bad. Well, that was, frankly, my little benefit in the arrangement. The smaller you got, the bigger I got. You sat in front of me with thick-eyed eyes. I handed the handkerchiefs. If I think it right, I was too happy to let anyone look into my life dilemma. My fear does not concern anyone - that's true psycho-luxury.
Girlfriends often take on complementary roles
Honestly, I did not give you a chance to understand me. You did not try very hard, though. You kept on talking about your mammography-anxiety, the menopause, the sex-slump with Klaus, car breakdown, cellulite and dental surgery. And I was your Wailing Wall. If I sat there three days later and thought about what I would do in your place, which tip I could use to fortify you - you already had new worries. Your daughter was lovesick! My goodness! That's part of growing up. Yes, but you have been so involved. It has made you migraines. The child has to experience everything again, what has burdened your youth so much. Can not we protect them, our children? No, we can not, they need it, otherwise they will stay baby faces. You also have to get their bumps and later their character wrinkles.
The smaller you got, the bigger I got.
Why am I the only one who knows that? Why do not I want to keep my children from clashing with life? Because that's impossible! And because I do not put my strength into futile endeavors. I have too much to do for that. I have to direct my life. Must care for me. Earn money. Make my tax return. Cut the lawn. Take care of my health. Think about my mistakes. Finding my new goals. Train for a firm butt. Caress my cats. Swipe my living room. Find out who I am when someday I'm 60. To hold the man in my life. To earn the love of my children. And listen to you!
No, my strength is not a gift. I work on it again and again, every day anew. And now I would like to have some recognition for it. Admiration. The question: How can you do it all? Could you please ask me once? And then have the right time for my answer? Without you saying after the first sentence: Oh yes, I know that. It was like that for me ...
