Nomadic Nurse Diaries

Dear Gods of Red Flags and Questionable Life Choices,

Tell me why I am magnetically drawn to the psychos and the assholes? And yes, I say that affectionately. We’re not talking about the charming, slightly mysterious types who add a little spice. No, no—these are the ones who leave a trail of chaos, radiate a low-level hum of superiority, and probably think “self-reflection” is something for people with weak minds. For reasons beyond me, these are my people.

But here’s the twist: I don’t just attract them in my personal life. Oh no, it’s everywhere. Professionally, as a nurse? Same story. I walk past a patient’s cell, and if they’re sporting the full Narcissist Starter Pack with a side of personality disorder, guess who ends up having the best conversation with them? That’s right, me. Somehow, I know exactly how to talk to them, navigate their maze of quirks, keep them from spiraling into a rage—and sometimes even get a “thank you” out of them. How? Why? Does this make me one of them? I mean… no, right? But the question still lingers.

It’s like I’m fluent in Red Flag—a language I never learned but somehow speak with eerie precision. While everyone else is sidestepping the landmines of their egos, I’m out here dodging with finesse, like it’s second nature. Maybe it’s my extensive training in the art of de-escalation… or maybe I’m just that level of unbothered. I’m the calm in their chaos, the voice of reason to their running inner monologue that tells them the world revolves around them. I’m not proud of it, but I have a track record of making even the most insufferable types say, “You know what? She’s alright.”

So tell me, Bestie, what does that say about me? Am I hopelessly empathetic? Dangerously curious? A magnet for the types of personalities most people avoid? Because at this point, it’s practically a personality trait. I’m like a moth drawn to the chaotic flame, or maybe more like the unpaid therapist for everyone who can’t tell where their ego ends and the rest of the world begins.

And the best part? I can see the warning signs from a mile away. Oh, I know exactly who these people are, and I still lean in, thinking, Well, this’ll be interesting. It’s like I need a flashing neon sign that says, “Proceed with caution—or maybe don’t proceed at all.” But nope, there I go, charming the uncharmable, somehow winning the approval of the toughest egos in the room.

So here I am, Bestie, self-aware enough to laugh at my life choices but apparently not self-aware enough to avoid them. Because where’s the fun in that?

May the Gods of Better Decisions bless me with a taste for normalcy someday. But probably not today.

So tell me bestie, am I one of them?

Your Nomadic Nurse