I like cats, in theory. They are independent enough to not bother you, but affectionate enough to make you feel loved. They’re aloof, which gives you unconsciously pleasant validation of your low self-image, but they aren’t human enough to vocalize their disdain in a manner reminiscent of your childhood caregivers. It’s the perfect balance.
But in reality, cats are narcissists, and like their human counterparts, they are manipulative, capable of smelling fear, and inexplicably attractive to me.
A few nights ago, I lay in bed asleep with my cat curled up on my chest. Not the most comfortable situation, but I thought it was sweet, until she reached out and clawed my face. Then I realized my favorite animal is far too much like my favorite type of human. They both present love as something that slowly cuts off your oxygen supply. I thought about this for a while, and the result of that profound introspection is the following: a list of signs that you may be in a toxic relationship, inspired by my experience with cats:
- You travel for a month and return to find they didn’t miss you, barely remember you, and have started sleeping with your brother.
To be fair, I have never met a human who did this. But I credit my brother for that more than anything else.
- They give you crap, and you clean it up, spritz the room with air freshener, and say, “This is great.”
We don’t own cats; we don’t have real authority over anything that successfully commands us to flush their toilet for them. But sometimes we give someone love, and they respond with a metaphorical litter box. Love is cleaning this up, we say. Maybe, but it’s delusional to think there won’t be poop in it again the next day.
- You aren’t appreciated for the nice things you do, only punished if you stop doing them.
Spoiling someone is much easier than un-spoiling them. Have you ever put a cat on a diet? I was once responsible for my sister’s cat when she traveled, and he had been on a diet ever since she decided to bring him to Kuwait and discovered he exceeded the weight limit for hand luggage. I was supposed to enforce it.
She warned me that he could be very persuasive in his attempts to get food. Multiple times, if my hair was in a ponytail, he would bite it and attempt to drag me towards his food bowl. There was never a reward for feeding him. Slowly, he trained me to see the few moments of relief before his next attack as an expression of love.
He has a lot to answer for.
- You unconsciously start congratulating yourself on how tolerant you are.
I know there are many reasons why people put up with mistreatment, and it’s not always because it feeds their self-image of being a nice, accepting person. But sometimes it’s a factor. I was very proud of the everything I endured while babysitting. At one point, the cat sunk his teeth into my arm, and I decided to record a video. I wanted evidence of what I was putting up with. How long would he keep biting me if I didn’t stop him? It turned out to be around 30 seconds. Now everyone will see what’s wrong with this animal, I thought.
No one said that. They said, “What’s wrong with you for letting him bite you like that?”
- They jump into your lap within a few moments of meeting you.
How sweet, I thought. You must really love me. I should take you home immediately.
And I did. I adopted my cat a few days later for exactly that reason. And all she wanted was a warm place to sleep, which is only flattering for a limited amount of time, until you realize exactly what it means.
I have not slept in peace since. There is no part of my body she has not turned into a pillow. If I sleep on my side, she balances precariously on my hip bone, somehow convinced that if she just wills it strongly enough, I will not move a millimeter. Although that may be preferable to what a human would expect in the same situation, it’s not exactly easy.
- They hurt you constantly even if they don’t mean to.
It’s not a cat’s fault they have claws. They don’t mean to scratch you when they walk across your arm or knead your leg. But it still happens. There’s no point in saying it doesn’t. You wouldn’t refuse to bandage a cut just because it was an accident, so why do we pretend an emotional wound isn’t there just because no one intended to give it to us? It’s not always that one person or the other is toxic; it’s the combination. Wish them peace, then give it to yourself.
Sometimes you just need to get a dog.
Half-Blood Kuwaiti 