Being Called Entitled Doesn't Make Sense

Being Called Entitled Doesn't Make Sense

There is a thin line between feeling entitled to something and expecting something.

I've been of the mind lately that there is a thin line between feeling entitled to something and expecting something.

For example, a guy sends a woman a message on a dating site. It's not a gross and presumptuous message, just an introduction and asking permission for more information about her in a return message.

He gets no reply. He is burned and complains about getting no reply. People say he's acting entitled to a reply. These guys are often referred to as "Nice Guys." "Nice Guys" are rejected because they are seen as just smoother manipulators. They're seen as feeling entitled to responses and interactions when in their minds they're merely expecting something in return because it was requested nicely. Is he though? Or was he just expecting a reply and was disappointed when a reply didn't happen?

Take the Uber driver who drops off a passenger at her building, and not only waits for her to get in but watches the windows to see which apartment is hers by waiting for the lights to come on. Is the dude expected to know exactly where she lives for safety purposes? Or is he being entitled?

The being entitled or expecting something line is also blurry when it comes to unrequited love. If you love someone and they don't love you back, and if you continue to have feelings for them — does that mean you're acting entitled to them?

At what point is an expectation some sort of unspoken demand?

What actually counts as feeling entitled to something?

If you wish for something hard enough, is that the same as acting entitled to it? If you work for years for something, get all the qualifications for it, take a test to master it, and STILL don't get it so you start working for it again, are you acting entitled to it?

If working towards something, waiting for something, asking for something, and hoping for something all mean one is acting entitled to something, then why should anyone have anything at all? Because to want something bad enough now comes off as someone acting entitled to something just because they want it.

Who came up with the concept of entitlement anyway? Was it once something good? Is it generally something else but socially something completely different? Is it a word made up by Feminists? Why is it that whenever someone wants something, others say their acting entitled to it?

I feel like this should be one of those words people should just stop using. It comes off as a word that is only thrown out there to purposely rile someone up. You can gaslight someone at the drop of a dime by saying they're acting entitled to something. There are other words one can use to describe how someone is acting other than saying they're acting entitled.

For the dating site guy who was burned by the lack of reply from a woman he messaged politely, I simply feel like he was acting disappointed because he was expecting a reply. For the Uber Driver who not only waits for their charge to get in and then waits to see that lights turn on, I feel like they're acting creepy. For the unrequited lover, I feel like they're acting hopeful.

Acting entitled shouldn't be a thing anymore.

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A Letter To The Tomboy I Used To Be

To that girl with the baseball hat, board shorts, and grass stains, thank you.

To the tomboy I used to be,

Thank you so much for making me the strong, beautiful, determined, and badass girl I am today. I am proud of who you've become. It is because of you that I can stand on my own two feet. It is because of you that I am not afraid to stand up for what I believe in. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

You were never easy to deal with. Mom and Dad had a lot to handle growing up. It was Dad who had to fight for you to be able to play boys' baseball. It was Mom who had to stand up to the boys that were mean to you for playing a boys' sport. It was both of them who had to cart you around to all of your games and practices, because playing one sport a season was just not enough. It was Mom who had to wash your clothes endless times, because the grass and dirt stains would never come out the first time. Don't ever forget who helped you become who you are.

Your attitude and thought process is very different from that of most girls. You grew up dealing with your problems through wrestling or fighting. Pettiness was not something you could deal with. Your anger came from losing a game, not drama with girls. You didn't understand why girls fought, or were so mean to each other, and to this day, you still don't understand it. You are different. You aren't like most girls by any means, which can be difficult for you, even now. You are so much tougher. You think differently. You are determined.

I love who you turned into. You are so strong; you handle everything with such passion and grit, that I can't help but thank you. Thank you for pushing yourself, and for not letting anything or anyone get in your way. The boys were mean sometimes, and the girls talked about you, but that never fazed you. That chip on your shoulder only made you strive even harder for greatness.

Thank you for making me unique. Thank you for making me extraordinary. Thank you for making me, me.



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I Found My Voice When I Was Diagnosed With Muscular Dystrophy

How I became a writer


I have always had a love and passion for writing since I was little. Probably as early as third grade. I would always write makeup stories about monsters and typical third-grade stuff. My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Strobbe saw my potential. Her class was hard but it pushed me to become a better writer. Rarely anyone got an A in her class and I had received an A in that class. Then as time went on, I pushed away from writing just because I didn't think I could make way with a career of writing - obviously I was wrong.

I began on the teaching path the rest of my elementary years. (Yes, I've had an idea of what I wanted to do when I was just in elementary, call me crazy.) In 6th grade, I still thought teaching was the way to go. At the time was going through a rough patch- getting spinal fusion and getting diagnosed with MD. It was a lot for a 12 or 13-year-old to handle. I had a lot of thoughts and feelings.

My mom had encouraged me to write again whether in a blog or writing in a journal. I had decided to write in a blog and it felt really good to write again. I only talked about my surgery because I wasn't quite ready to share the whole MD ordeal yet to the whole world. Close family knew but my friends had no clue.

I got into high school and students even teachers would ask me "Why are you riding the elevator?" Why this and that. I didn't really share much because I was afraid people would think differently of me. But I was tired of people asking me. I then wrote a piece on social media and put my story out there for the world and it felt amazing. I finally found my voice and I was loving writing more than ever. It was because I had the courage to speak up and stop hiding. I needed to share what I have been through and teach people to learn to embrace what they've got no matter who you are. I wanted to be the person to make a positive impact on people who have diseases and those who don't understand what it's like having a disability through the power of writing. I wanted to have the power to tell people's unique stories who may be afraid to speak up for themselves or share their story.

My goal when I write is to hopefully make a difference in someone's life or just someone that can be relatable. In high school, I am also highly involved in publications ie being Co-Editor-In-Chief for the Magazine for the last four years and it was a huge game changer as well, I never thought that I could make a living and realistically have a job In the journalism field. Being in publications was an eye-opener. It lead me to so many opportunities- writing for Newsboys, going to Mizzou for Journalism field trips etc. It made me fall in love with writing even more than I had. For me, writing is everything to me and I know I wouldn't be the same person or even the writer I am today without sharing my story.

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