I’ve been haunted by a ghost every night since you left.
He shows up only when my thoughts have quieted.
He looks like possibility, and sounds just like you.
You were rough around the edges, and especially dismissive.
I found your polo shirts repetitive, and your “nice guy” facade hard to swallow.
You took up all of the space in the room with your obnoxious laugh.
Your obnoxious laugh…
though only known to my ears for a brief stint, it’s taken-up permanent residence in my mind and haunts my moments of solitude.
To drown it out, I think about how the sun touches down on the earth, kissing her daily
…and how warm that unfailing embrace must feel.
I wonder if the plants miss the sun in the dark of winter as much as I miss your obnoxious laugh in the silence of night.
I will never be a “chill chick” or good at being a millennial in the dating world. I don’t like unspoken understandings, and pretending I’m “cool” with never being clear on where things are headed.
A while back I realized that I was constantly settling for unspoken sentiments and understandings in my romantic life -which happens to be a huge fucking trend among millennials. I was dating someone who I felt was constantly letting me down, and they never actually apologized for their fuck-ups. I just got gifts and an abundance of attention for, what felt like, five minutes… and then everything resumed to it’s regularly scheduled awkward avoidance. I had settled for them so much so, that I realized we never really defined our relationship or where it was going…because awkward conversations were avoided at all costs. We had such a flimsy foundation in our relationship that the only way any obstacle was ever addressed was through bouts of ignoring followed by petty arguing… so mind-games.
I never thought I would be someone who would contribute to such a rotten aspect of the dating world, but I was! I played mind-games and I was good at it… gross!
That’s what I had resorted to in this relationship, because I was terrified of asking for clarification and demanding more out of a partner. I genuinely think a lot of game playing boils down to how unwilling we ALL are to be vulnerable and to be honest about our intentions and feelings. With this lack of communication comes so much insecurity that usually leads to settling for unspoken sentiments and understandings.
Now, I’m not talking about the occasional unspoken sentiments that will occur among loved ones. I’m talking the situations that we find ourselves in when we haven’t defined our relationships, because no one likes to have difficult conversations anymore. I’m talking the unspoken fights and makeups we have, because no one likes voicing that their feelings are hurt or they feel undervalued in their relationship.
Unfortunately, this whole “unspoken understanding” concept is one that has reappeared throughout my dating life a lot. It had been a very annoying trend for me, because much like many other women in our society, I’m terrified of sounding assumptive and demanding and contributing towards all of those “crazy chick” stereotypes. But honestly, fuck stereotypes. I don’t really care if I’m associated with that rude label anymore, because I’d rather be myself than pretending I’m comfortable in a situation I really can’t stand.
To break the cycle, I decided a while back to stop giving credit to people who haven’t earned it. I no longer settle for the unspoken sentiment or understanding. I refuse to accept situations that go undefined. They make me wildly uncomfortable. I love labels (and label makers, FYI), so I need clarification in my relationships. I will NOT commit myself to someone who hasn’t been forward and open about being committed to me. I can’t stand the situationships where it’s not discussed whether we’re exclusive and heading in a “together” direction. Assuming we’re on the same page as someone else who has their own unique mind and set of beliefs is absolute insanity, in my opinion.
This is all just one more example of how “unchill” and horrible at being a millennial I am.
To be continued,
To the man who describes himself as a broken-hearted hero,
I thought love was jealous, fragile, and painful. I thought everyone who loved deeply, did so complicatedly.
Since you, I’ve discovered love through the purest of sources: friendship and kindness.
The kind of love that makes me feel seen. The kind of love that makes me feel heard.
It’s that kind of familial love I didn’t realize I already knew, and had no idea I would someday gain even more of.
Because of what I’ve learned since you, I was ready for him. To see him. To hear him. To love him.
I’m thankful for where my path has brought me. I hope you can say the same.
The confident queen who walked away
Am I right!?!
How many of us have thought “I just need to lose____lbs”, “I just need to be in better shape”, or “I just need my long luscious locks back”….”and that’ll show him! I’ll be too hot for HIM!”
I’m guilty of this, and I know many others are too. Let’s work on this, guys and gals. Let’s collectively work on valuing our journey enough to not invalidate our present. You are who you are right now. Nothing superficial has changed who you are underneath all the bullshit.
So what if I’ve been in better shape and my hair is in a weird transition phase -I’m the same catch I was last year and the year before. I’m still the same sassy mouthed, moody queen who loves fiercely. Chances are, whoever I’d want to “teach a lesson”…things were not that great anyway. Superficial relationships never are.
It’s great to joke about the quirky things we all do (and I genuinely am someone who has thought the above…in the last month!). But I think the most dangerous thing about having this mentality is that we constantly say to ourselves “you’re not good enough…yet!” So, we’re not only putting ourselves down, but we’re seeking out this fictional version of ourselves that we’ll finally be happy with. We’ll feel better about where we’re at in life when they’re pining after us.
This is a sort of fucked up concept, guys. One that extends beyond the romantic. I’ve got a yogi bestie who thinks she’ll get more people in her classes if she looks better in her Instagram photos. What does her leg cellulite have to do with her ability to teach yoga? Not a fucking thing. What does my weird hair phase have to do with my ability to love? Not a fucking thing.
Let’s all do better, ladies and gents. Remind yourselves and your friends that we are all perfectly fine in the present. Own your path. We may be flawed, but we’re constantly redefining our perfectly flawed mold.
We need the support of the collective to break this bad habit.
To be continued,
I’m not cool or “chill”. It’s just a simple fact about me.
After an embarrassing amount of failed attempts at getting movies back from the flakiest fuckboy I’ve ever encountered, he felt the need to tell me “Chill, girl. You’re really cool, but damn.. sometimes, you’re too much.” And that’s obviously when I acted like a complete mature, composed adult and told him to go fuck himself if he couldn’t manage to return my stuff like a proper fucking adult would….Did I say mature/composed? I meant, a complete mad woman who would have throat punched him if he had told me to “chill” in person.
I am not a low-key, chill chick (whatever the fuck ‘cool’ or ‘chill’ even mean in that context). I don’t even mildly exude that. I’m high energy, and a relatively demanding person that is definitely too much for some people. *My best friend likes to compare me to a puppy, because I’m both playful and will whine relentlessly until my loved ones surrender to my whims*
Are these qualities everyone loves? Definitely not. Do I pretend to be anything but a neurotic goofball? Goodness no. If I’m “too much” it means that I’m not for you, so get to stepping. I’m fine with who I am.
Also, ladies…how many of us love being told to “chill” or “relax”?? Sigh. They never learn.
I’m so not cool, guys. I like getting my stuff back after I stop seeing someone -it only seems fair. I also really like adult conversations that don’t lead to “show me your tits”, relationships that involve labels, and I LOVE having specific plans to which the other adult shows up on time (8 pm does NOT mean 9:30pm).
To any future flakey fuckboys to cross my path, I’m not chill…I will NEVER be chill. Stop requesting it of me.
To Be Continued,
This actually made me laugh, because I give this friend shit constantly.
But to further explain the likely cause of his and most men’s confusion with women: he’s a millennial who enjoys casual dating. Not promiscuity, but actual dating. He’s definitely a gentleman (and is generally very wonderful) but he actually dates around for fun. Are there any women out there who enjoy that? ….Homies, that might be why you don’t understand women: most of us actually hate casual dating.
Let’s discuss casual dating in situations I’ve been in: we talk a lot, we like each other, we either have sex or just “fool around”, we do things together, we never get too “couple-y”, I’m treated like I’m just “one of the boys”, and I always feel on edge and like I can’t relax. *There’s definitely ZERO type of commitment that provides any sense of security.
Now, I can’t speak for all women, I can only speak for myself but casual dating has been nothing but bullshit for me.
As a result of being the anti-casual chick, I friend-zone all men who I know have no intention of actually dating me. I want love… the real kind. Not the romance that fades shortly after it begins, but the boring kind of love. The kind that provides comfort..the kind of comfort that makes a person feel at home with their counterpart. I like having a partner. I have no shame in that.
I’ve voiced this in the past to men I’ve “seen” and to friends, and it’s generally unacceptable for millennials to want a commitment. Men have genuinely been confused in the past when I refuse to take anything further and kick them out of my life, because they’re just not in a place where a relationship is feasible.
Well, gents of 2016, not all of us want a fuck or makeout buddy. Sorry that you all tend to find us confusing because of that.
Game changer Amy Schumer was picked to be the cover of Vogue recently, and her interview is so atypical Vogue that it’s basically giving me life. I love Amy; she has been my dream bestie since the first time I saw her stand-up. I love any woman who celebrates her truth. I relate so heavily to not only her journey, but to her comedy. I believe in talking about the uncomfortable stuff that people need to hear about.
“I wouldn’t know what motivates Tina Fey and Julia Louis-Dreyfus,” says Schumer when I bring this up. “This insatiable drive. I have it too. Sometimes I feel like they’re hustling, they want something, and they’re not going to stop until they get it, and they play the game. I am very into making up my own rules. Like, I don’t want to play the game and succeed at it. I want to redefine it. That’s the only way I can deal with it. Maybe that’s naive. ” -What a great way to utilize comedic talent!
Her interview with Vogue really is game-changing. She talks about the era of the mean girl being over, and that people are becoming more honest and not accepting of meanness, she discusses her journey with her dad and how being comedic was a defense against difficulty through her childhood. And what we can all probably relate to, she talks about how confusing sex is when you’re young and how her perception of beauty warped her sense of self when she was young. I am in love with alllll of that. In true Amy fashion, it’s honest and hilarious.
Click Here to read the whole interview.
Enjoy, Friends! I loved this interview.
To be continued,
So, bumble (the dating app) spoke out about a woman being verbally abused by a male user, and I’m getting all sorts of feisty over it:
HelloGiggles covers the story pretty well if you want to read what bumble had to say in response to the screenshot above.
If you’ve ever been on Tinder or Bumble, you’ve probably encountered a Connor-type. He’s a classic “I have too much to offer you, so tread lightly” type. My most recent encounter with one of those was when I matched with Legarrette Blount last summer, and he told me I should consider myself “lucky”, because he’s picky. – 😳 ahem…excuse me?! Who the fuck are you!? (I had to google him to figure out who the hell he was) And I’m still NOT impressed, but his name sure as hell stuck with me!
I digress, it’s crazy that this Connor guy’s prestigious degree didn’t instill any sense of decency or humbleness in him. What a great way to impress the world with a fancy degree, Connor. We thank you for even allowing the rest of us to coexist with your ego. *barf*
This guys is a massive jerk, and I hope he finds exactly what he’s looking for in a counterpart… A giant bag of dicks.
Oh, and to all the haters of state schools… We got the same education, but I paid for mine myself. *flips hair* #ProudASUalum
I made a list of all the words I should have said to you.
They turned into a book; the kind of book that you can read over and over, and still learn something new.
But there was a certain way the words looked to me every night.
They spelled out something sinister, and somehow never looked quite right.
They would stare me in the face and mock me for not understanding them.
And as soon as I’d start to figure it out, they would mix themselves up again.
The story never changes though.
It’s always the story of me and you, and all the things we’d never make it through.
And I guess somehow, before I even wrote it, I always knew.
I’ve memorized the lines but can’t quite figure out what to do.
When my arms reach out, grabbing nothing but air as if the emptiness is trying to give me a clue.
When I stop breathing to try and hear your heartbeat just once more, until my body starts to turn blue.
My God, what am I supposed to do when my sheets no longer smell like you?
She quietly died in a room where no one had bothered to change the calendar in for five years.
It was a decision she had made a few months before but never found the courage to go through with. That was largely in part of her never being alone.
Before then, I had left her side only once. It was something I deeply regretted but learned to forget over time.
I knew how much it hurt, but she said, “The heart heals because it’s made to take chances.” That never made me feel better, but it did give me a reason to breathe.
But by and by, the air grew thin until we found ourselves struggling to find enough for the both of us again. Or maybe she was just choosing not to take her share.
Fearing suffocation, or perhaps embracing the outcome more than she thought possible, she secluded herself to a small box to keep her safe from me. Or so I thought.
As the days passed, I couldn’t bear the stinging absence of her lips on mine. I couldn’t stand the sight of her not standing next to me, or the feeling of my fingers being able to touch in the void that her’s once filled.
So I found her there, her heart not quite healed but unable to break ever again.
Her lifeless lips with no intention to ever touch mine; her limp body with no means of standing next to me; her fingers unable to place themselves in the void they once filled.
She quietly died in a room where no one had even bothered to change the calendar in for five years.