My cat does not care about my feelings. He informs me of his need for food, affection, or a change of scenery. His food must cover the feeder or he’ll refuse to eat. He could shake it for the food to cover the bottom but he takes me to it, then looks expectantly, knowing that I’ll oblige.
He does not hesitate to disturb my work or quietude. Sometimes, I feel my primary purpose on earth is to fulfill his desires. Humans, too, need some selfish spaces where our quirks are indulged.
People learn quickly to respect personal space and limit their demands. They remember previous hurts. I long for the self-confidence of my cat. He expects to be adored, ignores an angry tone, and returns the focus on himself. A judicious dose of selfishness is a part of self-care. Our true friends won’t mind.