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.
It’s funny how my memories of you can spill onto a piece of paper in a series of letters; foreign to the unlearned, yet just as beautiful.
But I scrawl them out on whatever sits in front of me, as if hesitating for one more second would erase you from my mind.
The shape of your bones drip with blue ink on a crumpled up newspaper that I’ve been meaning to throw away for weeks.
The curve of your smile and the softness in your eyes engraved in the floor at the bottom of the staircase after I lost the strength to climb them. Or maybe I lost the will to climb to an empty room.
I can see the curls of your hair dancing off your shoulders as you tiptoe across the room staining the couch with your favorite color of nail polish.
Your pale white skin and the constellations of freckles on your stomach defaces every mirror I’ve looked into because I’d rather see that than see the hallow eyes and sunken cheeks pretending to be me.
And there, chiseled into the mantle where the dust surrounded old picture frames, is the makeshift novel of how your sharp breaths pierce my ear when I plant my lips on your collar bone.
I can see your nimble hands unperched from your hips as they reach out for mine scribbled across the doorway from the day I thought I could leave, but just kept waiting for you to follow.
It’s funny how all of these memories of you can spill out and be just as beautiful.
“FLUID is a gritty interactive novel that explores the nature of free will, through both the large story of a cosmic battle between good and evil, and the small story of two teenagers yearning for connection in a greedy, manipulative world.”
Have you ever read a book and forgotten that it’s not real life and you don’t actually know the characters? …you’re basically Gilmore Girl level acquainted with the characters, and you’re rooting for them/with them?
That’s how “fluid” was for me, and like all things I’m obsessed with…I share it with the masses! I’m not going to go into too much detail, because the author does a much better job at summarizing it than I ever could.
It’s an adult interactive book, so check it out on a digital platform (iBooks, nook, etc.) I also highly recommend you head over to his website. You can get more information about it there.
I have read it three times and I’m consistently in love with the content in this book… It’s a must-read!
Oh, and just as a fantastic side note: you can stalk the author on Instagram (I already do, regularly): @TravisSentell -not only is he a phenomenal writer, but he takes beautiful photos of his travels! Oh, and he’s a total silver fox with gorgeous blue eyes…so there’s that. 😉
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.
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.
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.’
And second: am I the only one who finds it incredibly condescending when someone says “you’ll meet him/her when the timing is right. It just has to happen organically.”??? -I like the idea of not having to put forth effort, but nothing actually happens organically. I’d love to say I’m not pushy, but I am. I’m always making moves to get things accomplished. Nothing great in my life has ever happened organically. I had to put in a sufficient amount of effort to make ANYTHING work.
I’m 25, and have been dating for a decade. Yes, there are women out there who have been dating in their adulthood a lot longer than I, but I’m exhausted.
My type has gone from so narrow and picky that it was comedic, to “must be a decent human being, with whom I can have great conversations and moments with.” -I obviously want to be attracted to them, but I tend to find intellect and a mutual connection more attractive with my aging. He doesn’t have to be freakishly tall, British, funny, athletic, bilingual, 5+ years older, dark, and handsome. <I told you it was comedic>
He can be a normal human being, because I am a normal human being. I mean, I think I’m a catch, but I’m not Giselle Bündchen.
So, how the F**K do I go about “bumping into” this normal and sophisticated gent in an organic fashion? ….Do I hover over Tolstoy at the old bookstore, with hopes that I’ll have a meetcute with some cutie who ALSO is obsessed with early 19th century literature? -Come on, guys… that’s not actually a thing. Meeting people organically is total bullshit. So, until then… the cutie in the produce section will have to do.