Y.K.Y.H.W....aka. a cautionary tale

I once wondered if I was the dumb girl. I thought... May.be.

At the time, I was married, and firmly believed that wearing a diamond studded wedding band would ward off men like a form of "man repellent".  There were times when I questioned it's power, but I now believe that it worked.

My man repellent was solid stuff, and as long as I had it, it was like magic pixie dust. If you believe that it works, it works.

The reason I'm so convinced that the man repellent worked so well, is that now that I am no longer wearing a diamond studded band, I am inundated with texts, emails, phone calls and facebook messages indicating a string of miscommunications.

My method of communicating has not changed.

I still make eye contact, and try to encourage laughter when possible as I entertain whichever audience is present. I compliment people, and I knowingly and willfully flaunt my smile. I touch people on the shoulder or arm, not inappropriately or anything. I sometimes use rash and over the top displays of silliness to evoke the response I desire, particularly with Those People and Harry Potter.

I flirt with men. I flirt with women. It isn't because I like them, like that, exactly, it's just the way I communicate. I didn't realize this about myself, but many of my friends have explained it to me over the past few months that my smile is a Bioweapon.

A weapon? Really? 

It's an infectious "thing" that I use without discretion, and... it causes people to smile in return. Sometimes that smiling leads to feeling good. And ~apparently~ feeling good can lead to all kinds of badness as all this communication on my part is being misunderstood by my "friends".

See, without the ring of power, I guess this smiling is being misinterpreted.

Maybe I should write a letter... something like...

An Open Letter to the Residents of RVA:

I flirt.
With everyone.
And if I flirt with you, it is not because I want to be your girlfriend, or steal your husband, or become a lesbian. It's just my way of communicating.
It's not a request for a bedmate. Nor is it an invitation to text me with a sexually inappropriate proposition. 

And if at any point in our friendship you actually say that you just want to be my friend, I will stupidly believe you, and continue to flirt with you as though we are, in fact, just friends. 

So to be clear, it's not me, it's you. 

It's you reading into my behavior. It's not my fault. I am the way I am. I like me this way, and I'm not going to stop being me because you idiots don't know what you want. 

I had one partner for 15+ years, 2 if you extend that out to +16 years. I'm really not that girl who's going to respond to a sexually inappropriate suggestion via text message, so knock that shit off.

And finally, if you're trying to figure out If I actually like you, (i.e. if you think this blog post doesn't apply to you)... Well, then here's what you should be looking for: I will become a socially awkward giggling mess who can't communicate at all. There's even a good possibility I will blush prettily every time you address me in public. I will loiter in your space and hang on your every word. God help me if you, the person I like, happens to be particularly funny or witty, and finally, and here's the important thing, if it's appropriate, I will actually tell you I like you... 
so if all of those conditions have not been met, and there's even a slim chance that I'm just being nice, smiley and genuine towards you, you should probably refer to Paragraph 1, sections a, b, and c. and d.

So to be clear.
I smile a lot.
It's just my means of communicating. 
Please do not send a text.
Do I need to reiterate that point one more time, for the record?

Regards,
GBA_GF