The Real Reason Why I Don’t Give A Damn About Men’s Compliments

I woke up around noon today. And after stirring in bed between my soft blanket for a few minutes with me trying to figure out what I wanted to do today, I decided to check Instagram.

Last night I posted a series short clips of me dancing to my Instagram stories, and quite a few of my friends sent me quick heart reactions to my videos. The feedback felt good to receive since I suffered severely from both of my legs locking at the same time as a result of dancing too intensely for too long. While it was nice to hear from my friends a message in particular stood out in my inbox.

It was from a guy I was chatting with through Instagram a few days ago. He told me he wanted to speak to a “real misandrist” about a situation he was going through, and while I do not speak to male strangers for any reason I had time to indulge him and he seemed harmless. We ended up having a great conversation, and his story was so hilarious it made my morning. He also has an accent, and I literally melt for certain accents.

So he sent me a message in response to one of my dancing clips.

“You’re so perfect.”

I stared at the message with no emotion. I gave it a heart react and kept it moving.