Romance movies and Rom Coms have done me no services as a young adult.
However, there is one Rom Com that doesn’t do me wrong: Trainwreck. Holy shit did Amy get that screenplay right. Though the story-line gets a little silly at times, it’s actually extremely relatable. Dating in my twenties has been a total grab bag of experiences mixed with Vodka (shaken, not stirred). When you’re young, sometimes you really do date a John Cena-type (in appearance and personality), and sometimes you date a Bill Hader-type.
But not all writers are Amy Schumer, and not all romance movies get it right.
Romance movies are nothing more than mindless escapism. A chance to take out the Kleenex and indulge in some sickly sweet entertainment, admire the attractive cast and let ourselves get emotional about the characters on the screen. Who didn’t shed just a little tear at some point during Dirty Dancing? And don’t even get me started on P.S. I Love You.
The truth is, most romance movies are stupid and unrealistic. An over the top idea of what love is all about, perhaps even a metaphor for love that takes all the little things and blows them into extremes for our viewing pleasure. Some claim romance movies are damaging, and I get that, maybe impressionable teenage girls watch them and do genuinely start to believe that love should be like it is in The Notebook and refuse to settle for anything less; i.e. refuse to live in the…
“There is a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.” –Madeleine Albright, former United States Ambassador to the United Nations
Seriously though, I’m not messin’ with that meme. Feminist rants really are my jam… So, here’s one of my favorite rants: the importance of supporting your fellow female badass……
Is there anything more special than having female friends?
I’ve noticed over the years that it appears to be a really trendy thing to label oneself as a “guy’s girl”, or the type of girl who “has more guy friends than girl friends”, because “women attract drama.” Now, there’s obviously nothing wrong with having an abundance of male friends; I have plenty of guy friends. I’m talking about the women who avoid making friends with women-This has never been true for me.I was raised only by women, and I have…
As I’ve been very forthcoming in much of my writing, most of you know I’m sort of the queen of breakups. Not quite the queen of relationships, but definitely the queen of breakups. Now why would a bright twenty-something be both a commitment-phobe AND a relationship-type? Because why not.
But to be honest, I’m just so sick of trying and feeling like I failed again. I came across this post on Thought Catalog, and it resonated so well with me. I’ve been this woman; I’ve had her same thoughts; I’ve felt her same unhappiness when someone I loved was constantly choosing being “busy” over me, and I’ve been devastated when I realized I was the only one in the relationship that was fighting to make it work.
They say that if a man is not ready for commitment, even if you bring him all the ladies in the world and hand it to him on a silver platter, he still will not commit. They also say that if a man really values you and doesn’t want to lose you, he will do everything he can to keep you, because that is the real challenge, the challenge is not getting someone, the challenge is keeping them.
I was trying to find a happy medium between two paradoxical facts, so I was giving you your time but at the same time I wanted ‘more’ from you. We had good times, we laughed, we had intimate conversations, and we had a very strong connection, but you also had that with many other women, and I had that with many other men. Sometimes I felt we acted more like friends than lovers but isn’t that a good thing? Either way I wanted to “make this work”. I was tired of failed relationships, I was tired of meaningless flings, I was tired of being lonely, I was just tired and you gave me something to fight for.
I fought for you and for the relationship to work, but later on I realized that if I continue fighting, I will be fighting myself, because in the soundless moments that I refrained from everyone and thought about this relationship, that little voice inside my head told me that it’s not what you want, it’s not how it should be, you are not happy, and when I paused and reflected, I was the only one fighting, while you were trying.
I think the older you get, you look for those who can comfort you and be there for you as opposed to someone you can have fun with or just kill time with. You want security, knowing that when everyone walks out of your life, that person will walk in, and I never felt that, I felt that you were in the front line of people who are constantly disappointing me. So I left, and I may have looked back a couple of times, but it was nothing more than pure nostalgia.
I guess this is what’s funny about relationships, you think you want something out of a specific relationship only to realize that you want something totally different.
I don’t know if it’s because you get to know yourself better, or because in the darkest of moments, when you are alone in bed thinking about the meaning of life, you come to understand that all you ever want is to be loved a little more, and understood a little better, and sometimes you can’t just keep these two truths under wraps and when you unravel them, you want to make sure that your partner will embrace them instead of running away.
You were always “busy” doing other stuff; sometimes absolutely nothing, but you always chose “busy” over me, and eventually I chose me over “busy” and started giving more time to those who made time for me. Why do we always remember those who were always there for us when we find no one else? Why can’t we just value their presence without having to feel their absence?
When I saw how amazing you were to your friends, I realized that you are capable of being a giving & generous man-just not with me. How do you explain that? I don’t know. Maybe this where the whole ‘not meant to be’ thing comes into play. We just didn’t bring out the best in each other. Why? Because we weren’t meant to be.
So I guess I thank you for paving the way for me to know who I should be with, the kind of man I should look for, and what I want out of a relationship. Thank you for teaching me that no matter how hard I try to change myself to please someone, they can still reject it.
Thank you for making me embrace my core and stop changing myself for a relationship that does not go the distance. Thank you for reminding me that people can say we are so ‘perfect’ together, and then say ‘we saw it coming’ when it’s over. I learned not to listen to them anymore.
Thank you for making me realize how dangerous infatuation can be, we soon find ourselves doing things we never thought we would, so blinded by the VERY obvious facts, and clinging to strings of false hope. Sometimes you ask yourself what was I thinking? The answer is you weren’t.
It wasn’t easy getting over you, attachment is a double-edged sword, but I learned that in relationships it’s better to break your own heart and save yourself from falling apart. Thank you for making me aware of the lines we shouldn’t cross in relationships, and how blurry these lines can be when you’re in love. Thank you for bringing me one step closer to ‘the one.’
This is a must-read. Body image issues is something that we can ALL relate to.
Originally published on XoJane.com
Growing up as an Asian American, I knew I would never have the long legs or double lidded blue eyes of the models that graced the TV screens and magazines I saw. Hell, I might not even have the tan skin if my melanin continued to refuse to cooperate. I recognized […]
Kevin now has his own corner on Basic&Bipolar. Enjoy his beautiful words below, and under the menu option “It’s All Copacetic“.
I can hardly remember the way you tossed your hair; something I’ve studied on numerous occasions. I catch glimpses now and again as trees reach out and swing their branches in the wind. And the wind still carries your scent, following me everywhere I go, urging me to look back and see you standing there. But I still have trouble remembering the way you tossed your hair.
I can hardly relive the flashbacks of your lips pressing tightly together and melting away from mine only to tease; like a newly blossomed rosebud opening for the bees and then withering away the second it slips in. Then hunger ensues; hunger for your lips. But I still have trouble reliving those flashbacks.
I can hardly feel your hands. I imagine they would be lost in mine, our fingers intertwined like the mossy overhang on our front porch door. Our front door, it creaked slightly when you crept in, opening it slowly to soften the sound.
Oh, I can hardly recall the sound! The sound of your voice as it trembles beneath a whisper, forcing out those words. And I’m still holding onto those words. You said that if I left there’s no way you’d survive.
Then you left…so, are you still alive? I can hardly recall.
As discussed in part I of my Tinder Tale installments, I collected tinder date stories throughout the summer. During which, Joan and I had been particularly obsessed with going on a double Tinder date, because after a few dates on Tinder… it was apparent to us that the men in our area didn’t really take to tinder for anything serious, so we decided we’d get some good laughs, food, and drinks out of it. I mean, why not… we’re two hot twenty-somethings; we might as well make the best out of this hook-up app.
“The Worst Double-Date We’ve Ever Been On”
We had had several unsuccessful attempts to have a double tinder date. It was something that was constantly in the backs of our minds while setting up dates with contenders. After probably two months of unsuccessful attempts, we matched with “guy whose name I forgot” and Ari.
GWNIF (guy whose name I forgot) was there for me, and of course the gorgeous and well-built Ari was there for Joan. GWNIF was chosen as a desperate attempt at a double-date. Joan and I really wanted to go out for wine and cheese, so I booked a date with the first contender that was available that night.
Ari arrived to our favorite wine bar before we did, and was already eagerly getting us a table. When we walked in, he was gorgeous and smiley as he hugged both of us. Though he was there for just Joan, he was ridiculously social and sweet to me as well. *Fellas, when you date a woman, you ARE also dating her best friend. Play nice, because best friends can make or break your intentions to date. – I was totally team Ari– I even whispered to Joan that I didn’t care if GWNIF didn’t show up, because I was already having a nice time. Wishful thinking got me nowhere, because that awkward turtle showed up 5 minutes later.
He was nice and polite (at first), but a really snobby sommelier. He was the most annoying of the annoying wine snobs; he sat there sniffing the wines, and testing our waitress on the different dry reds she could provide our table. –I’m all about knowing your wines, but as soon as the customer starts testing the staff, I’m probably going to accidentally spill my wine on his/her lap for being an asshat at my favorite wine bar.
He asked me about my job a lot, as he found what I did incredibly interesting, and he kept saying “I really should go back to school. I can’t do a lot without a degree.” –he said this at least three times, so I finally said “What would you go for then?” And here’s the kicker: he said “I want to run my own wine bar. I’d like to learn more about running a business, and pick-up some managerial skills.” To which I said “not testing the staff like they’re at gunpoint while you’re on a date is probably a really great place to start as far as interpersonal skills go.” -Yes, I did say this… I’m rude, guys.
Ari was being delightful and involving me in his conversations with Joan, because it was obvious to everyone at our table (other than GWNIF) that I was not interested in snobby snobberson. So, my energy was spent attempting to make small-talk with GWNIF, while also socializing with Joan and her pretty manfriend. *I’d also like to add that men also tend to use their best photos for this app (women aren’t the only ones who do this). GWNIF was one of those guys.
GWNIF and I didn’t talk about anything interesting in the slightest. I don’t like talking about work in late night social environments, because of the nature of my job, I feel it’s not respectful to discuss it over drinks. So, that topic wasn’t going to work. I kept trying to talk about hobbies (I’m basically a collector of small-time hobbies), and he had none. Who the F**k hasn’t a single hobby!? I mean, nothing. He didn’t collect anything, he didn’t have any special skills (outside of wine quizzing), and he had NO major life interests, and owned zero pets. I had absolutely nothing to talk to this guy about. Staying awake around him was a total chore. He just kept talking about wanting to become more cultured. -And hopefully find a hobby or two.
After our third or fourth bottle of wine at the table, we all decided to call it a night. Completely out-of-tune with me, Joan invited the entire table back to our place for some more drinks and a movie. The situation got away from me, and the next thing I noticed was Joan giving GWNIF directions to our home and telling him “you know what, why don’t you just follow us back!” -Great. Thanks, Joan. Now I have to hang out with this snoozefest even longer. As we walked back to our car, I whispered “what on earth were you thinking? That guy was the fucking worst. Seriously.” Giggling, she responded “yeah, I know. I thought it’d be funny to see how you’d get out of it.” -Gee thanks, yah fuck!
I eagerly took control of this situation, and texted him that I was tired and heading to bed. He understood, and said that he could tell that I seemed “sleepy”. -uhh yeah, because you were boring me to tears, homie.
After a failed attempt at sexy texting me a few days later, I never heard from GWNIF again. I was actually shocked by his attempt at sexy texting. Not only was he boring, but apparently is also horrible at picking up social cues. No thank you, sir. He was rude and a complete snoozefest. He was unmatched and deleted right away.
Needless to say, Joan and I have vowed to never double-date again unless we’re in solid relationships. I know I definitely have no desire to go on a double-date, ever again.
Have any of you had any good experiences with double-dating? …Maybe I’m just doing it wrong (I probably am).
The name is fitting, I’m sure you’ll come to understand. I’m a new contributor for B&B. Here I’ll be expressing my feelings, frustrations, highs, and lows surrounding my relationship with food. All kinds of food. The healthy kind of food. The not so healthy kind of food. The kind of food that not even running a 5k could make you forget about. I’ve never run a 5k…but I highly doubt it would make me want to forget about pizza… or bacon.
Sometimes I’m a hard core dieter. The kind of hard core dieter where cleanses are involved, pills, shakes, meal replacements, etc., you name it – I’ve probably tried it. Other times, I’m a binge eater. A serious binge eater where its Chinese take out for dinner, fast food for lunch, and leftover cake from a relative’s birthday celebration for breakfast.
Don’t get me wrong- I’d love to see myself in something less than a size 12 in my life time. But oh the struggle is real trying to find a place between happy and healthy when all I really want to do is eat macaroons.
I’m on this journey of balance. But for now, you’ll hear me bitch about needing to run but wanting that burrito a little bit more. I’ll get that six pack… one day.
I am the furthest thing from being a “cool chick”.
This is my dating reality:
I have no idea how to navigate the dating world. I know what type of relationship I want, but I have no idea how to weed through contenders. You’d think I’d have better asshole radar after a decade of dating, but I don’t. And I want to stab myself in the eye every time I hear the phrase “I’m just looking for a chill chick to, you know, hang with.”
Let’s discuss the phenomenon that is “the cool chick”
This concept is one that is pushed on women a lot. I absolutely hate the concept of her. She’s not real: she’s a sexist concept that was probably created by beer commercials. From what I gather, a “cool” or “chill” chick is the following: unbothered by flakey-ness, DTF always, never gets too emotional, never gets jealous, loves “dude” activities (whatever that means), doesn’t need relationship labels, she’s adventurous, fearless, and is basically a guy with tits.
I have a few ladies in my coven that would fit the majority of those characteristics…but never too emotional? Always unbothered by flakey-ness? …that’s where I, and most women get lost: flakey-ness should never be tolerated, and being emotional is not a negative behavior. We should celebrate uniqueness from one another, and our emotions are one of those unique things we should not be ashamed to celebrate.
If someone stands me up or flakes on me multiple times, I will probably rid my life of that person (romantic or not). I don’t always like “dude” activities -I hate video games (if that’s a dude activity), and I only have sports knowledge when it’s relevant to me. I like labels (and label makers!), as I find that they assist in providing comfort in budding relationships. I am pretty adventurous, but I’m not even mildly fearless…. as I am afraid of almost everything. I am extremely emotional, and I have no shame in letting it be known that I basically have multiple personalities.
Yeah, I’m definitely not an ideal “cool chick”, and dating in my mid-twenties has been a total grab bag of mixed results. Unrealistic expectations make dating even harder. Women are not two-dimensional creatures. You can’t get the woman that loves sports, AND likes to keep things casual for THREE years. That’s not a thing, guys. We have complex personalities. We aren’t…men. I will probably always be adventurous, but also extremely neurotic and love labels (of all kinds).
Basically, dating in my twenties is the worst. And down with this “chill chick” concept!