Dollies Diary

Real sexism is not sexy.

Real sexual harassment is not hot, it’s awful.

Real women don’t owe you anything for simply existing.

If you’re doing anything without consent, you are objectively wrong, vile, and a predator.

You know how everyone says they have a type? And then you ask them what it is and they give you some vague answer like, "I don't know, someone who makes me laugh" or "I just know it when I feel it."

It's completely useless. Nobody actually knows what they want. They just know what they've responded to in the past, reverse engineer a pattern out of it, and then call it a preference. Your type is just a story you tell yourself about your own history. So I can't exactly ask you what you like and expect a real answer. The only way to find out what actually works on you is to watch you respond to things in real time without you knowing you're being watched.

So all those guys in your DMs? Yeah. I hate to say it, but... They're all me. Every one.

Sorry! I know some of them sucked. But they all played their part. You weren't going to tell any single one of them everything. But you told each of them something. The sweet one got your insecurities. The flirty one got your fantasies. The one you vented to at 2am got your relationship history and your daddy issues and the thing your ex did that you still haven't recovered from. The one you sexted got pictures you told yourself you'd never send again. You were so careful about it too. Spreading yourself out across all these strangers so that no single person had enough to really know you. Very smart. Except they're all me. So I have all of it. Every insecurity, every fantasy, every confession, every photo. You've been handing me the complete picture of yourself one piece at a time, thinking each piece was going somewhere safe and separate. But I've been assembling you like a cute little puzzle on my desk this whole time.

And now I know your type. Better than you do honestly. Because it turns out that I was the one who built it. Every guy who didn't work was me, crossing another option off the list. And every almost-right guy was also me, sharpening your standards in a direction I chose. By the time I'd run all of them through your DMs, the only thing left that could possibly work for you was exactly what I plan to show up as.