Listen to Yourself

All I want is money, power, a nice car, and a bag to hold my doggy in

All I want is money, power, a nice car, and a bag to hold my doggy in

Don’t you hate it when you see a fine young woman and know that she knows that you know that she knows she’s all that? Translation: Because she’s beautiful, she’s going to be high maintenance, conceited, and only want to date guys within her league.

Or at least that’s what a friend said to me on many occasions. He was head over heals for a woman who was beautiful and immediately started to judge her. I’d gotten to know this fine young thing, sorry couldn’t help myself, and she’s nice. She is high maintenance, which isn’t due to her looks, but she’s actually insecure about her looks, despite her looks. Huh?

Well, hello! Nanoo, naanooo!

Well, hello! Nanoo, naanooo!

I’d questioned my friend, who I’ll call Mork, why he thought this way about “Mindy”. “All beautiful girls are like that. All they want is money, a man with power, and a guy with security. That’s why it’s impossible for me to get someone like that.”

My jaw dropped off the earth, circled the moon, and swung off into the beyond.

“Did you just hear what you said?” I asked Mork.

“What?”

“Maybe you think women are this way because you have insecurities about yourself.”

Uh oh

Uh oh

He stared at me like I had shined one of the LED flashlights into his slanty eyeballs.

It’s no wonder women complain men don’t listen. We don’t even listen to ourselves.

I’d applied for an online writing class. The application requested two references who’ve read my writing. It wanted their names, email addresses, birth dates, blood samples, urine samples, social security numbers, psychological breakdowns, and favorite color. OK, maybe not favorite color. But references? It’s not like I’m applying to be an FBI agent. My best friend sent in a raving reference, making me look like I was the Pope of writing.

I's be the Ef Bee Eye

I's be the Ef Bee Eye

I’d received an email stating that the school will get back to me within a week to let me know if I was qualified to take the class. Included with the application was a sample of my writing. A couple of days later, I was accepted.

Immediately I thought: Ooh. They must need students and not gotten enough applicants for the class.

Did I just say that? To me?

Obviously, this put a damper in my day as I realized where I truly thought my capability lay as a novelist.

Now, to be clear, it doesn’t matter whether I’m a good writer or not. It matters whether I think I am, or not. As Henry Ford said, either way I think, I’m gonna be right. Gonna…is that good writing?

So a gateway into what you think of yourself are the thoughts that come into your mind. Although, that thought could've been situational. Like the kind a lot of people have when their airplane goes through turbulence. A lot of people are afraid the plane will crash. It won’t. But if we put too much energy into a thought, especially ones that reflect our abilities, then we will eventually fulfill them, good or bad.

Like Mork. He’s cool enough to charm a beautiful woman, he’s financially stable, something women want, and he has good values. But his constant negative thoughts on what women want limit his ability to attract them.