Throughout my dating career, I have been accused over “overreacting” about 792,000 times. And each time a guy tells me that I’m overreacting I simply respond with, “I’m not overreacting…I’m reacting – ASSHOLE! (I find it to be way less effective when I don’t throw in the “asshole” at the end.
I don’t know what guy in the stone ages pissed off his cave-wife enough to make her grunt even more than usual and then accused her over overreacting, but the damn ___ has been passed on through the ages. Actually it was probably that guy’s son that carried on the legacy, the original caveman that said it was definitely beaten to death by his “overreacting” wife via boulder.
If a guy I’m seeing does something to piss me off, I’m obviously going to react. Yes, I could sit there like a 1920s female, patiently waiting for my engagement ring and ready to be pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. But if you follow my blog, have ever dated me, or have dated me and follow my blog, then you know that’s never going to happen.
If I feel disrespected in any way, I’m going to say something. Does saying something sometimes entail yelling? Perhaaaaaps. But if I’m yelling – trust me – it’s warranted. Which is why I despise when my already-angered mood is made that much worse when the person who caused the fury makes an untrue accusation.
The worst is when the guy says it in front of his friends. “Ugh, there she goes, overreacting again.” One day I truly feel that I’m going to lose my mind and punch one of these guys in the face. As their lip swells up to the size of a grapefruit I’ll say, “I guess now you know what happens when I overreact.” (Except in my head I’ll be thinking: I totally did not overreact just now because he deserved that.)