When people let you down in a lengthy string of offences, it’s difficult to rely on them when you need help. In the past few months, I’ve been spread out so thinly—a consequence of distractions and misplaced priorities, no doubt. There were weeks of bodily stress manifesting in an onslaught of ulcers in my mouth, a new one appearing each time an old one had just healed. And, of course, a sinking sense of overwhelm that just would not go away.
Is your first thought, why didn’t you ask for help?
I did. Many times. And I received none. So naturally, I do what I always do. Overcompensate for the ways in which people have let me down, doing the work by myself, and burning myself out in the process. It’s a sad cycle that always hurts me in the end. What good is it to ask for help when they don’t listen to your pleas? It’s already humiliating to admit you need help, but to then be humiliated further in gaining nothing from an earnest request is just pitifully laughable.
We all have a limit. And I think I passed mine a long time ago. The number of times I’m chronically left unheard leads me to believe my word doesn’t matter—that I don’t matter. Frankly, it’s frustrating having to repeat myself over and over to be heard. I’m just thankful I don’t have this issue with my female friends. Unfortunately, the bulk of my friendships rest on the shoulders of disappointing men. (Thank you to the men who actually do what they say they’re going to do, and show up to events that they say they’re going to show up to.)
The question I keep coming back to is, why is it so hard for men to have basic respect for women?
They’re just not good listeners. And maybe, it’s just the men around me that I’ve attracted. But the numerous times I’ve had to ask for help repeatedly before receiving assistance, or not at all, make me want to give up on the other half of the population. All I can think is, why didn’t you show up for me the first time I asked? Why did it take my overwhelmingly visible distress for you to take action? I’ve lost so much faith in men. They’re inattentive and inconsiderate, and they only notice something is amiss when it directly affects them.
Time and time again, they have shown me that no matter how many times I ask, they simply won’t show up for you. But hey, let’s give them the benefit of the doubt for a second. Maybe, just maybe, they really are that dense. And they have no idea what they did wrong. That I can understand. It just sucks that women have to do the exhausting emotional labour of pointing out unacceptable behaviour. I see it a lot, and it makes my blood boil.
The harrowing alternative? They did know what they did wrong, but shamefully or pridefully chose to avoid the subject altogether. A cowardly move. And you know how I feel about cowards. Unreliable AND cowardly? What a combination. Let me tell you this now. Your half-assed sorry isn’t good enough.
So if they rob you of that emotional safety, why would you ever ask them for help? They’ve made it known that they won’t be there for you. And relationships like that only ever end in your disappointment in humanity, and in basic expectations being unmet. More often than not, men deal us death in the form of a thousand papercuts. And then they wonder why things ended so abruptly. Because it’s never an explosive end.
From a woman’s (namely my) perspective, they’re delusional, incredibly unaware and selfish. Yet, they play it up and feel unjustifiably left in the dark after the damage they dealt. Will they get defensive and neglect to reflect on the ways they’ve fallen short? Honestly, I don’t even want to think about it anymore.
I’ve been disappointed so much that I’ve been conditioned to expect that people won’t show up. It’s not like begging for help has resulted in any change. And for every small papercut I receive, it gets harder to muster the courage to put myself out there. Because it’s always the small things that break down trust. What else can I say other than…
I wish you were actually reliable.
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