Don’t ever presume to know me. It’s not something I’m saying out of arrogance, or haughty pride – it’s a simple precaution you should take when you meet/befriend/talk to me.
There are things that will forever remain the same; my guilty-pleasure-love for Korean boy bands, my appreciation for all types of music, my adoration for sushi & Chipotle, and my attraction to tall, handsome, and generally unattainable men.
But as far as personality, and thought, and action goes, I’ve been called unpredictable (by two very reliable friends/sources) and while that’s not necessarily a compliment, I don’t take it as an insult either. I don’t think I like being categorized or stereotyped into a neat little box. And maybe that’s a little bit selfish of me, but that’s the way I am.
For example, I can be extremely blunt and to-the-point, or ridiculously indulgent of people’s feelings (don’t worry, Sarah, I never lie to you). I can be sarcastic and biting and cynical, but I’m perfectly capable of being sincere, and warm, and upbeat. I can be ridiculously insensitive and then cry over Grey’s Anatomy. And that is all me. None of it is fake, because I hate fake more than anything else. (Although, only close friends have the privilege of knowing truths. If you’re not proven trustworthy to me, I won’t mind lying to you.)
Or sometimes I get angry and I have no idea why the source of my anger has even sparked my temper (it can be something insignificant, and I know it’s insignificant, but I’ll get all “rawr” anyway). Sometimes I sense things and although they may turn out wrong, they change me entirely.
I don’t know.
But I hate it when people assume of my reasons, or motivations behind my actions; unless I say it out loud and actually confirm the ‘why’ question, don’t presume. Because I would love to prove you wrong.
