You Villain Vortex You!

Some women have been single for so long, we don’t date anymore—we grant you access to our peaceful little empires. Like reluctant queens handing out visitor badges to our perfectly curated chaos. You text me good morning as I’m chilling in a cozy condo in the Isle of Palms, and honestly I’m already mildly annoyed.

So let’s get down to brass tacks. You want to infiltrate my world and become a partner? Honey, I’ve been sleeping next to my laundry, laptop, iPad, glasses, and snacks for years.

My closest friends are my two sons. The love of my life is Rocky the raccoon who I adopted as my support animal. And I have daily meetings with people that aren’t there to other people’s vision, but to me I’m having a whole conference with people that are in my vision.

Here’s How You Actually Get My Attention

That generic “good morning beautiful” text? Delete my number. But send me a Family Guy reference, a South Park quote, a Scarface one-liner, any mob movie wisdom, or better yet—open with “Good morning, psychopath, who’s on your list today?” Now you’ve got my attention.

My vibe is simple: I’d welcome the idea of ‘We,’ but if our energy doesn’t mesh or your physical presence ruins my aesthetic—if we don’t look good together as a unit—why am I wasting my time?

You plan a good date, and I’m thinking, “That sounds nice, but I could also stay home, and do another home decor change and some online shopping. Focus on my empire and watch South Park or Bob’s Burgers or some crazy non-PC cartoon.”

My Entertainment Standards

During football season, nothing—and I mean nothing—comes between me and my Steelers. Off-season? I’m binge-watching exotic escapist shows like White Lotus, rewatching Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love for the hundredth time (yes, that beautifully sensual masterpiece), and getting lost in Wild Orchid with Mickey Rourke and Carré Otis.

But here’s where I really geek out: British television is my obsession. From The Graham Norton Show (that man is comedy gold) to classic British gems like EastEnders, Are You Being Served?, Keeping Up Appearances, and Fawlty Towers—I live for that dry British wit and brilliant storytelling that actually had substance.

Classic Gen X entertainment that knew how to entertain without dumbing everything down.

Plot Twist: Cowboys vs. Steelers

Even though I despise—and I mean despise—the Dallas Cowboys with every fiber of my Gen X soul, if you happen to be a fan, it might just be a match made in heaven. Why? Because I can still drop “one and done” with devastating accuracy. Sure, they beat my Steelers the last time they made it to the Super Bowl, but that was back in the 1900s, so we’re calling it ancient history.

The “Check On You” Text

You try to check in emotionally: “How are you feeling?” Dude, I’m feeling fantastic—Rocky’s over there demolishing his little grapes like a tiny trash panda king while I’m adding shit to my cart that I absolutely don’t need but absolutely want. Life is peak right now, thanks for asking.

And dude, when I don’t text back or vanish into the void for a while, does it mean I’m having some emotional crisis? Hell no. It means I want to starfish face-down on my bed for three hours in complete silence without having to explain my existence to another human being. It’s called self-preservation, not drama—learn the difference.

Listen Larry—yeah I know your name ain’t Larry, but at the moment that’s the only L name I could come up with—here’s the deal: You’re not competing with other guys because there are no other guys. You’re up against my weighted blanket (undefeated champion), my hard-earned peace of mind, my meticulously planned solo adventures, and the pure, unadulterated joy of not having to share my cupcakes with someone who’s going to eat the frosting first like a goddamn sociopath.

The bar isn’t high, Larry—you’re just not clearing it.

Enter at Your Own Risk

As a Gen X woman, I don’t get offended by anything. Send me those memes that come with “you’re going to hell” warnings, and watch me light up like a Christmas tree. If you can make me laugh so hard I spit my coffee out, congratulations—you’ve got my attention and a foot in the door.

Non-Negotiable Boundaries

But here’s a non-negotiable: Snoring will get you kicked out of my space faster than you can say “sleep apnea.” I don’t care if you dozed off because we had a fun-filled day and you’re perfectly comfortable on my sofa—the moment I hear you snore, it’s like nails on a chalkboard, and you’re out of here. My peace is sacred, and that includes the acoustic environment.

And the second you cause even 0.0001% stress? I become that umpire—you’re outta here. I’ll snap my fingers and vanish like Houdini, back to my solo scheduled adventures.

What I’m Really Offering

I’m an asshole. I’m a cut-up. I’m formidable. But what I’m offering you is insight on reinvention, relocation, and encouragement for you to march to the dopest beat—so unique it’ll have you weak in those badass knees. And if you’re not a Gen Xer, there will be things you’ll have to look up unless you have an old soul and love good TV shows and movies.

So my lovelies, whether you’re broke, overwhelmed, or plotting your escape to another country—ooh la la—my stories on rebuilding your mind, body, bank account, and filling up that passport will make your own psyche jealous. You, my loveliest, have stepped into the villain vortex.

Join the Journey

I’m hoping if this crazy-ass Steel City chick can change just one person’s life, I will be fucking ecstatic. So here’s the deal: follow my journey, pre-order my book “Shōshin,” listen to the podcast, dive into my blog—or don’t. Your choice, your loss.

If you get offended easily, there’s the door marked “Deuces.” I’m weird, I’m quirky, I’m bizarre, and I bloody well love every fucking one of those labels.

So if you find yourself in a bit of a “quandary”, crossover to the IDGAF dimension and hang out with your girl at the Self Made Society Lounge.

Final Thoughts

Look, at the end of the day, life’s too short to sleep straight in your own bed or compromise your peace for someone who can’t make you laugh until you spit your coffee out. Whether you’re building your empire from a cozy condo in Charleston or plotting your escape to another continent, remember this: your standards aren’t too high—everyone else’s are just too low.

Stop apologizing for taking up space, stop shrinking yourself to fit into someone else’s vision, and start sleeping as diagonally as your heart desires. The right person will appreciate your villain energy, your weighted blanket boundaries, and the fact that you’ve turned being single into an art form. Until then, keep building that empire, keep raising those standards, and keep living life completely on your own terms.

Take care of yourselves… and your space. I’m Kimberly.