Snapchat and Aviary makes for a good picture on a day I didn’t even bother to wear makeup.
In other news, I closed my dating account. Again.
ALL THE SURPRISES! (sarcasm)
It’s weird because I didn’t get fed up with people sending me inappropriate messages. Yeah, I have fun sometimes when someone sends me a message about how huge my boobs are or something, but honestly if you send me a message about how much you wanna pork me in the back of your car a sick part of me is still like, “that’s unusually flattering.” I still decline, of course, but I’m flattered. No, what sent me over the edge of tolerance was a 53 year old man with a pre-teen daughter that felt the need to call me princess.
I’m 27. That means this guy is 26 years older than me.
I know that lots of people don’t mind age differences. In fact, the older my friends get, the less age matters to them at all, so long as everyone is legal. In my own family vast age differences are totally common place, probably because they’re southern. My mom is 13 years older than my dad. My aunt was 20-something years younger than her 2nd husband, and is 10-ish years older than the new one (the 2nd husband died of cancer… she doesn’t go through men like tissues or anything). I have aunts and uncles with 15-ish years separated in age. Even the love of my mom’s life was 18 years older than her (and subsequently died 12 years ago).
To me, though, I never liked older men, and this particular 53 year old exemplifies exactly why. He called me princess. I take issue with that for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that he doesn’t know me and has no right to give me some pet name… much less one that fathers give to their daughters when they’re little.
I hate pet names, in general. I have a name. I have several names, actually, and you can use ANY of them. Everything from my proper name to MOUSE, which some high school friends still call me. There’s no reason to call me something else, no reason to make up a new nickname. After we’ve been dating for a while I will allow terms of endearment, such as but not limited to sweetie, darling, dear, hon, honey, and even pookie. If that’s not enough variety for you, that you need to pull out the most condescending pet name for girls ever invented, then we should not associate.
On top of hating pet names, I hate PRINCESS the most. Princess is not a compliment. Princess is an insult. I’m not a soft-spoken piece of genetic property that you get to either pass around to your friends before marrying me off, or something you can trade to a neighbor to increase your own property and wealth. I’m not helpless, and if I were locked in a tower guarded by a dragon I would work long and hard to train that dragon to take me away from the whole situation. I’m not a prize to be won for valor or performance.
Historically, being a princess was less of an honor and more of a legal and socially accepted form of forced prostitution and slavery. If I’m gonna be a prostitute, Imma do it on my own damn terms and take all the profits for myself. So this concept that calling me, a full grown woman with opinions and abstract thoughts, a princess is totally unacceptable. It’s not a fucking compliment, no matter how you slice it.
And finally, if you have a pre-teen daughter that you also call PRINCESS… you’re a fucking creep and I worry about the safety of your kid. Is that extreme? I dunno. I know that if you call us both princess and wanna treat me like I’m also a child, but you also wanna fuck me… that’s sketch to me. I get this a lot with older men, which is why I have no interest in them. They all want to treat me like a child. They condescend to me. They laugh at my thoughts. They never take me seriously.
What I Said: Raising the minimum wage isn’t a long-term solution to the economic caste system in the United States, and it distresses me that the government wouldn’t employ academic professionals to investigate why the cost of living continues to increase so dramatically and how we can stabilize the economy.
What They Heard: Some dogs are brown!
What They Reply: That’s right, Princess! Some dogs ARE brown!
I know, of course, that not all older men are this way, but I haven’t found one that treats me like a human being that isn’t married or that I am actually into. Usually they’re just friends of mine. Friends that constantly tell me that I need to stop messing around with the stupid boys my age, because I’m an old soul and need someone that’s on my level. If they had friends they thought could survive me, I’m sure they’d even go so far as to try and set me up… but apparently I have all the rage and razor sharp wit of a 40 year old divorcee… which I take as a compliment.
I’d also like to throw out there that this 53 yr old probable-creep is actually older than my dad, and THAT creeps me out, too. Now, granted, my dad is a young dad. He had me at 21. My mom says that I’m the way I am because she had an old egg and my dad had young sperm. That’s gross to think about, but she attributes that mix to my “OLD SOUL” that everyone says I have…
I dunno that it had anything to do with it… or maybe it was that my Baby Boomer mom raised a Gen Xer when I actually fell into the Millennial generation (most Gen Xers were raised by Boomers)… or maybe I just grew up faster because I spent so much time alone as a kid… or maybe it has to do with the fact that I spent so much time around adults as a kid when I did socialize, so I never really wanted to do kid stuff…
I dunno. There are a lot of variables.
My point is that if you’re an older man and you hit on a younger woman… for fuck sake, don’t call them a princess or anything a father would call his daughter…. also… they are people not kids…