relationships

Here’s Some Helpful Advice: Suck It Up.

endurance

i love the dictionary.

They always say if you don’t go through bad things you won’t appreciate the good.

They say you need to go through trials and tribulations to appreciate where you are now compared to where you’ve been.

They say you need to push through, that it’s just a rough patch, and that if you keep going, they say you’ll make it out alive.

And whoever they are, they’re right.  We just tend to forget, or maybe ignore, all that advice when we’re going through those rough patches, when we’re in the midst of trials and tribulations, and when the bad is blocking out all the good in our lives.

We live in a world that feeds off of instant gratification.  Text messages don’t get prompt responses, relationships fail to be defined, and job offers don’t come.  But we texted first, we want to be with that person, and we applied to that job an hour ago.  Why haven’t we heard back?

Our parents, and their parents all struggled.  Yes, our generation has technology, and the ease and accessibility of it has made communication that much stronger, faster, and immediate.  But we, as millennials, fail to accept that regardless of that access, we all still must struggle and endure the worst parts of life, in order to come out stronger, to persevere, and appreciate what we’ve built, just like our parents.

The reality of the world is that things aren’t going to be handed to you, and if they are, you’re extremely lucky and shouldn’t take it for granted.

The internet has made overnight success a seemingly attainable and tangible idea, when in reality, most kids coming out of college will not be on the influential 25 under 25 lists, and they’ll have to work for money just like 98% of the population.

Hollywood has made romantic relationships and the idea of perfection achievable.  And while you should still never compromise on someone with whom you’re going to spend the rest of your life, the harsh truth is that things don’t work out like the movies, and you’re going to have one or multiple failed relationships in order to realize what you want, need, and deserve in a partner.

You’re going to have to start from scratch, try and create something out of your life with a multitude of wrong ingredients before you finally realize there isn’t a recipe to success, it’s all just trial and error until you get it right.

But that’s why it’s called endurance.

You need to have that shitty job when you’re first starting out to know that you’ll constantly strive for bigger and better. There are going to be horrible things that happen to you along the way, people are going to get promoted over you, you may get laid off, you may be stuck in a position for a long time with no room for growth.

But you have to endure it.

You need to have a series of imperfect connections for you to know when a good one comes along. Sparks will fly and fade multiple times until you find one that just keeps burning.  You’ll figure out what you thought you needed when you were sixteen may not translate to your desires for twenty-five.  Or maybe you’ll realize you shouldn’t have let that one get away when you decided you wanted to grow up separately rather than together.

But you’d never know these things if you didn’t endure them.

There’s a reason why life is considered a marathon rather than a sprint.  If we all rushed to where we were going, we’d be dead in nine minutes.  But the beauty of time is that we have it and the reality is we should not waste it.  We need to understand that life isn’t all rainbows and butterflies and there are going to be shitty times where you want to give up, run away, or break down.

But you should just endure it.

Because at the end of that seemingly endless, pitch-black tunnel, there will be a light. And everything you’ve worked for, gone through, and endured will be worth it.

You’ll find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and cherish the connection you have from the start. You’ll nurture that relationship and use the lessons from your past to make yourself and your partner better.

You’ll get your dream job (eventually), and realize that all the skills you acquired through that crappy customer service gig or the connections you made through that string of temp jobs will ultimately help you in the long run, even if it seemed like remedial work at the time.

Because endurance is the reason people wait all winter for spring.  It’s the reason we lived in that horrible roommate situation to be able to save up enough money to move out and into a better place.  It’s the reason we hate our lives now, but will love and appreciate our future.

So just remember to endure it.

I Wanted A Pony, I Got A Lecture.

Watch out. Marlborough Man. There's a new chick in town.

Watch out. Marlborough Man. There’s a new chick in town.

Every year for my birthday I prayed that I would get a horse.  Instead, I got my cousin’s old sweaters and a lecture from my mother on being grateful for the things I already had.

A hand-me-down, by definition, is something that has been passed on from another person.  Most likely, you’ll refer to that old coat with holes in it that never kept you warm in the winter, or the pair of socks that went through three siblings before they made their way to your feet.

They are the sweaters your brother always wore that made him look so cool, or the high heels in your mother’s closet that your six-year-old feet prayed every night they would one day fit inside.

They are the items that the previous owner took care of enough to live a second or third life.  Like the house that’s been in your family for generations, or that weird glass duck your mom keeps on the mantle, and no one really knows where it came from.  But it has value.  So it’s passed down, kept, and maintained.

In an effort to avoid being completely literal, I want to talk about the hand-me-downs in our lives that are way less tangible, yet far more meaningful.

These are the attributes that have shaped you into the person you are today. It’s the ideals, beliefs, and quirks we learned from people in our lives that had an impact far greater than a birthday gift.  A hand-me-down isn’t just an object, it is something that makes you who you are.

It is your mannerisms; the ways you move, gestures you make.

It’s why you always twirl your hair because your older sister did it when she was talking to boys.  It’s the nervous ticks you inherited from your mother because she hates public speaking.  The way you always talk with your hands because your family always had to show rather than tell you what they were talking about.

It is your perception of color, and the way it can positively or negatively affect your life.

It’s the inheritance of racism, sexism, and the idea of inequality from previous generations.  Views that your parents, grandparents, and relatives had that were unfortunately passed down to you.  Or you might carry the legacy of acceptance, open mindness, and visions of equality.  Your mind is a sponge, and you know that skin color is no grounds for inferiority, and people are people, all of whom we can learn from.

It is your voice, and the way it carries you through life.

You’ll never be able to count how many times you’ve been asked why you don’t say your R’s, or how you got your lisp.  You’ll never be able to explain why you learned to say “draw” instead of “droor,” or “theeter” rather than “thee-a-ter.”  It’s because you were taught to hold your tongue and wait for others to speak, or why it’s your innate desire to blurt out your thoughts without thinking of the repercussions.

It is the lesson you learn from the past.

Whether it be a day, a week, a month, or years, there are people in our lives that have an impact.  It’s because of that time you fell in love too quickly, and from then on, refused to show all your cards from the start.  It’s the friends who made you laugh, realizing you need those more than ones who will bring you down.  It’s that man on the street who greets you every day, letting you know that the littlest bit goes the longest way.

It is your genetic make up.

Or the reason why you dealt with curly hair through puberty when all the pretty girls had straight. It’s why your thighs are thicker and your waist is smaller.  It’s why your face is longer and your nose is pointy, and the reason you can’t digest dairy or are prone to alcoholism.  It’s all the things that make up who you are, and remind you where you came from.

That weird glass duck will always be sitting on your mantle, and no one really knows where it came from.  But as human beings, we are all walking examples of what has been handed down to us.  We represent an amalgam of experiences, cultures, perceptions, and memories, all of which affect how we act on a day to day basis, for both the good and the bad.

And we will all eventually pass those things down.  Just remember that the next time you don’t say hi to that stranger on the street, or talk down to someone without thinking of the effect it will have, or go for the guy you think you can change when you’ve never been able to change one of them.

What hand me downs to you have?

I’m On The Wrong Side of Twenty-Five

Chevvvvvvvs.

Chevvvvvvvs.

So, um.  Vacation is real, and it’s fucking awesome.  It also hurts like hell when it’s over.

But sound the alarms, hide all the children, bake every cake, cause I’m back and I’m chock full of noggin goodies and ready to write em down.

Mentally, I feel great. Physically, I’m a little worse for wear.  As you get older, you really start to recognize how many things you just can’t do anymore.  Along with wearing overalls and cheetah print scrunchies, I found out over the course of my week long hiatus that I can’t quite hang like a college kid and bounce back like I used to when I wasn’t twenty-five.

I woke up this morning and my eyes essentially refused to open, and walking in to work looking like you just toked up with Willie Nelson and Snoop Dogg is never a good look.  #apologies

What I’ve learned this week is that I’m on the wrong side of twenty-five.  

And that really, really sucks.  Cause being on the right side is always more fun, I think.  Depending on how you look at fun, I guess.  Criminals and the like would probably disagree with me.  But then again, they’re in jail and I’m not… yet.

I may be young and able-bodied, but I am in no way, shape, or form, capable of doing beer olympics and not spending the entire following day curled  up in a ball watching reruns of CSI while having someone spoonfeed me macaroni and cheese covered in velveeta.

Listen to your bodies.  When you wake up on Sunday and you feel like crap, going outside and sitting in the sun without drinking water is not going to make you feel any better on Monday.  In fact, it will make you feel worse.

Exercise is always good.  Even when it’s not good, you’ll feel better after you’re done.  Or at least that’s what my mother tells me.  I always say the same thing about naps and chocolate.

If you have a good buzz going, cleaning your kitchen and/or entire house will be way more productive in the moment.  You will cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time.  Drunk minutes always seem to double regular minutes, but you may also wake up wondering why you slept in bed with a swiffer wet jet and why your dog is wearing rubber cleaning gloves.

Never forget to eat.  At twenty-five, this seems like it should be natural.  It’s not.  Sometimes you spend all day shooting the shit and catching up with old friends and wake up the next morning realizing your body survived a day of treacherous drinking on one egg and 8 pieces of cold bacon.  Set alarms, bring a buddy, or grow the hell up and remember to nourish yourself.

Strapless bathing suits are the devil.

Keep in touch with old friends.  Especially if you experienced something life changing together.  Friends like that don’t come into your life often, so cherish them.  Make a point to see them, keep in touch, and reunite as much as you can.  You’ll want to remember the time one of you passed out in a strange place and how many different locations you traveled to in order to reunite. (shameless plug)

And last but not least, it was confirmed that Ray Rice is a giant pile of douche bags.

What did you learn this week?

I Got Lost In The Dating Pool

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Caution: Enter At Your Own Risk

You know, that unfathomable abyss full of unknowns, what are we’s, and should I’s?  That God awful place in life where no one really knows if you’re out to dinner because of a mutual interest or because the end result is a hopeful bang.

Yeah, welcome to the dating pool.  Put on your best swim suit, get in the water, and Marco Polo your ass over to the deep end.  You may find what you’re looking for, or you may just want to hold onto the wall for a while until you know it’s safe to start looking.

First off, you’re going to want to utilize the buddy system.  There is no substitute for an effective wingman in the dating pool .  You’ll need that guy or girl to help when you’re drowning in guilt, self-doubt, and with the all too familiar life question, “should I text him back now or in forty hours?”

Always remember to apply sunscreen, the dating pool is never in a shortage of burned bridges, scorned lovers, and hot love making; all of which need the necessary precautionary protection.

For those who are eager to jump right in to a relationship, feel free to enter at the deep end.  There are diving boards of various heights, all of which are easy identifiers for the type of relationship you’re seeking.  If you want a low maintenance, easy going relationship, try the spring board.  If you’re looking to add a lot of time, effort, and danger, you may want to jump off the high board.

Warning:  High risk does not necessarily equate a high reward at the dating pool.  He or she may just be a psycho.

All other patrons can enter at the various laddered and step intervals found throughout the vicinity.  The shallow end steps boast most of the new relationships.  These are the ones still undefined and unlabeled, the ones still just trying to figure out if this is what they want.

People in the shallow end need not worry about those that are treading water in the deep end.  While some of the swimmers look like they have it all together and their heads above water, beneath the surface may reveal a struggle and they just know how to put on a brave face.

Because in reality, they may just want to get the fuck out of the pool and onto dry land.

Those in the deep end, and maybe in the shallow end, may not be comfortable enough in their own skin, thus, they have garnered the ever so tacky floatation devices.  Ranging from large to small, these devices signify that the person they are outfitting is neither ready, nor willing to fully immerse himself in the relationship.

This person could be wearing floaties due to a failed relationship recently.  He or she could have almost drowned due to suffocation, over-exertion due to putting in too much effort, or because he or she felt they had to babysit their previous significant other and does not want to be pulled down again.

If you see someone using a kickboard or a noodle, they are drunk.  These are crutches that we use in order to make dating more fun.  You may look like a jackass, but god damnit, you’re having fun while doing it.

While in the pool area, you may encounter a bunch of people just laying out on the sides.  These are the people who are not interested in relationships.  They do not want to go into the pool.

This means your advances will be shut down, your invitations will go unanswered, and your money will be wasted on frozen treats at the snack stand with no return on your investment.

It is easy to get lost when you’re in the dating pool.  One minute you think you’re going to sit by the water and tan, the next thing you know you dove straight into the deep end with Marcos from Prague who is visiting for the summer.

I’m not going to say it won’t last, but I am saying maybe you should have taken a floatation device with you, because that shit is going to be ROUGH later on.

There are children allowed at the dating pool.  Just be advised, it is a lot of work trying to handle kids while wearing a bikini.  One wrong move and you have a rogue boob on the loose, and that never looks good on anybody.

Unfortunately, there are no lifeguards at the dating pool.  This is an enter at your own risk environment, and if you get pulled under, there’s no one to save you but yourself.

The (real) 10 Reasons I Never Had A Boyfriend

If you’re reading this hoping I’ll finally come out as a lesbian after all these years, I’m sorry for your inevitable disappointment.  I do, in fact, still like men.  A lot.

Recently, I expressed my differentiating opinions on the things everyone thinks on their first date, and I figured it was time that I responded to another article.  This one is not nearly as ridiculous, and I don’t think this girl is crazy, rather she is just not telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Thought Catalog tends to post uplifting, motivating articles about feminist pride, relationships, and confidence boosting lists.  And yes, I love it.  I’m completely guilty of going forty pages back on my lunch break, having my eyes glued to the screen wondering what the Eight Ways to Make A Failing Relationship Work While You’re Living In A Treehouse could possibly be.

But my friends, I am also a realist, a truth teller, and a lover of self-deprecating humor.

I read this article and identified with it.  I liked her reasons, but felt they lacked authenticity and anecdotal support from the late bloomer’s perspective.

So, I am here to save the day (not really), and embarrass myself beyond all belief when I tell you the real ten reasons I never had a boyfriend.

1.  I was ugly. 

I’ve talked about myself being a late bloomer many times.  I am not joking, if I could invent the teleport I would go back to 200-2009 and slap myself in the face every single day for nine years.  A girl that looks like she was just attacked by her brother’s wardrobe and willingly went to a school dance afterwards will not get a boyfriend.

Oh, but she has such a good personality!  Save it.  We all know that doesn’t have any weight in the game of puberty.

Exhibit A.

Exhibit A.

2.  I have a resting bitch face.

Apparently, I am unapproachable because I look pissed off all the time.  I guess people tend to stay away from girls that look like they are going to murder your first born or steal your puppy if your leave it outside while you’re in line at Starbucks getting your $14 frappe venti mochacochalino.

3.  My best friend was better looking than me.

And I’m not saying this out of jealousy.  I mean, this girl was freaking beautiful.  How am I supposed to reel in a classy lad when I have a genetically impossible broad traveling with me wherever I go?  Did I mention she has a heart of gold?  Yeah, no way I could compete with that.

4.  I liked people out of my league.

I tried telling Leo DiCaps it would work between us.  But I guess when you aim that high in the relationship department, there is nothing to expect but failure, defeat, and disappointment.

5.  I don’t understand social cues.

I don’t know why you invited me to prom with you, but I can sure as hell assume that it’s not because you wanted to hook up with me.

6.  I drove a Ford Taurus.

Try picking up a dude while you’re rolling through the parking lot in this.

Exhibit C.

Exhibit B.

7.  I am a terrible looking eater.

No one wants to take out the girl that not only immediately tucks her napkin into her shirt to create a makeshift bib, but one that looks like she wanted to wear the spaghetti sauce after she was done eating despite her napkin neck protector.

8.  I’m not good at feelings.

See here.

9.  I was fat.

I had cankles when I came back from studying abroad.  Guys couldn’t tell where my boobs ended and my stomach began.

Exhibit C.

Exhibit C.

10.  Everyone thought I was a prude.

People assumed I didn’t hook up with anyone, so why should they try?  Nothing worse for a guy than putting in all this effort with a girl and getting denied multiple times after sexual advances.

Bonus:  I eventually figured all these things out and obtained me a high quality, grade A piece of man meat.  Even though my face still rests pretty bitchy, I guess figuring out social cues was a step in the right direction.  And he’s apparently really into the Ford Taurus VW Jetta.

Things Boys Are Doing While They’re Not Texting You Back

You asked him about his thoughts on the color blue, and he hasn’t responded.  The nerve!

Here’s what he could be doing instead:

  • sleeping
  • rattling off sports statistics in a macho-off with his friends
  • eating pizza
  • doing hoodrat shit with his friends
  • watching baseball
  • watching basketball
  • watching football
  • watching hockey
  • watching any other sport in the world
  • watching sports center
  • reading ESPN.comgirlfriend-clingy-crazy-texting
  • eating burritos
  • googling pictures of Dwayne Wade
  • drinking beers with his friends
  • playing video games
  • playing basketball
  • playing football
  • playing baseball
  • playing golf
  • googling pictures of Kevin Durant
  • doing anything active
  • taking a nap
  • eating pasta
  • trying to figure out why you asked him that question
  • doing push ups
  • googling sports predictions for the upcoming season
  • watching porn
  • reading Barstool Sports
  • complaining that there is no one around to make him a sandwich
  • talking to someone on the phone
  • taking a shower
  • forgetting you texted him in the first place
  • researching the illuminati on wikipedia
  • grocery shopping
  • comparing who has bigger biceps among his friends
  • googling pictures of Mila Kunis
  • making fun of someone else in his group of friends
  • watching a movie
  • trying to figure out/understand the female psyche
  • actually doing work
  • dreaming out the next meal
  • talking in a weird accent
  • masturbating
  • googling pictures of sneakers
  • driving somewhere
  • not talking about his feelings
  • working out
  • watching videos of old people falling over on YouTube
  • eating lunch
  • eating breakfast
  • eating dinner
  • eating a snack
  • watching some more porn
  • refreshing that app that tells you all those sports scores and stats
  • googling pictures of LeBron James
  • pretending to work out while they check out other girls at the gym
  • figuring out where he left his cell phone
  • on his lunch break
  • enjoying some extra curricular activities
  • or he just doesn’t feel like answering your question because he feels no immediate need to respond as it will not directly benefit him in the near future

 

Why Women Are Responsible For “The Hook-Up Culture” And How We Can Change It

ARTICLE ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED AT TheEighty8.com:

DATING & SEX, RELATIONSHIPS MAY 21, 2014

 

What I’m about to say may come off as a little harsh, but my mother always told me that being straightforward was always better than sugarcoating an issue.

Sometimes Betty Crocker can’t even make a poorly baked cake look better.  So why should you try to be sweet with an issue that can’t be dressed up and presented as something acceptable?

There are countless articles on the interwebs about “the hook-up culture” and how it is ruining relationships for millennials. Girls are settling for hooking up guys who don’t actually want to date them, and subsequently perpetuating the idea that men don’t need to commit to women in order to get what they want.

While the hook-up culture is absolutely a factor in changing the relationship landscape of today, the reality is that the entire culture can be entirely changed by women–we just have to want to do it.

This isn’t new news, but there is a double standard in society that says women cannot have the same hook up patterns (publicly) as men.  I don’t plan on going into the idiocy of this notion, nor do I feel like I should have to explain to the other half of the human race that women are just as sexually charged as men, but unfortunately, in today’s world, girls cannot go around hooking up with multiple people in short periods of time without earning some sort of derogatory label.

With the advent of technology and the ridiculous idea that being tied down to one person during your twenties is insane, women have settled for steady hooks ups rather than relationships.  This is all fine and well until you’re faced with a complete degenerate asshole who doesn’t respect you as a human being.

If you happen to be one of those girls who has decided to engage in a casual hook up situation with  Mr. Douche, than please listen very carefully to what I am about to say.

You knew he wasn’t going to be boyfriend material when you started hooking up with him.  There was never any thought in your mind that it would turn into something more than sex.  When talking about him with your friends, you have associated his name with the following: douche, asshole and loser.  You are aware that he does not respect you, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.

The way I see it, you have two choices. You can choose to make sex the priority.  You can accept that he doesn’t respect you in the way that he should, and fully look at it as you needing your needs met just as much as he needs his.  But it will have to be on a ‘good for him’ basis, because you know he doesn’t always follow through with plans.

Or you can choose to make yourself the priority.  Awareness of your personal worth and value as a human being is something so easily compromised today.  While you may have needs just like a guy does, by not putting self respect above sex, you’re perpetuating the hook-up culture.  You’re making it okay for guys to not call when they say they will, flake on plans and disrespect girls because they know they will be able to get what they want at a later time.

It starts with girls respecting themselves.  No one said changing the world was easy, and it’s not always a fair fight.  But the girl who respects herself puts out a far better vibe than the girl who is just down for anything, and guys will notice that.

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Your Cell Phone Is Turning You Into A Jackass

Have you ever had a tree magically appear in the middle of your walking path?   Bump into a mailbox that had the audacity to stick out just a little too far from its post?  Fall victim to a dip in the sidewalk that DEFINITELY wasn’t there yesterday?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you may not know it, but your cell phone is turning you into a jackass.

A lot of people in today’s society would rather lose both arms and trade their first born instead of going a day without their cell phone.  We have this need to be connected at all times of the day; to know what is going on every minute of every hour.  Without our phones, we might miss what Angelina Jolie wore to the grocery store at 8:36am on a Tuesday.

But I’m not here to point fingers.  I have, at one or many points, answered yes to all three of the questions I posed above.  Which is why I have recognized and admitted that my cellphone has in fact, turned me into an asshole.

If you live in a city, or anywhere that generates substantial foot traffic, you recognize that something as simple as walking in a straight line may seem like a Herculean task for some people.  There are those people who take up the entire sidewalk, or those who think that suddenly stopping will somehow make the laws of inertia follow suit, preventing everyone who is following from a body to body collision.

If you put a cell phone in the hands of any and/or all of those people, the world might just self destruct.

When you have your cell phone in your hand, everyone around you becomes irrelevant.  It’s almost as if it emits a force field that envelops your entire body, blocking out all sound, sight, and common sense.  So naturally, that oak tree sprouted overnight, that mailbox is absolutely sticking out too far, and that dip in the sidewalk was definitely not there the day before.

On the off chance that you happen to be a human being who doesn’t use their phone for an application telling you how to put one foot in front of the other, yet you still can’t put it down for your ten minute walk to wherever it is you’re going, we would all like you to know that we understand how important your life is, and we will start making adjustments to our schedules to stay out of your way.

Your cellphone cloud of ignorance does not dissipate when you leave the sidewalk, it follows you into your home, your work, and your social life.

When you are out with friends and simple conversation isn’t enough to stimulate your brain, your cell phone might be turning you into a jackass.  Refusing to acknowledge anyone else’s conversational needs before your own is a tell tale sign of not giving a fuck about anyone but yourself.

I’m sure the person or people you are out with loves staring at your forehead while you answer text messages from friends who are not currently present.  Seeing you take a phone call at dinner and then listening in on half of your conversation with your cousin, John, may or may not be the highlight of their day.

There are several remedies that can help reverse being a jackass when it comes to using your phone.  All you need to do is simply take your cellphone, place it in your pocket, and go wherever you need to go.  I promise no one will think you have no friends if you are walking around completely aware of your surroundings.

You can also take a more extreme approach, and when out with friends, put your phone on vibrate, silent, or in some cases, even powered off.  This will ensure that you will have face-to-face, uninterrupted conversations with whomever you’re out.  Should the occasion arise where one or more parties need to use the restroom, feel free to take out your phone to check to see if anyone thinks you’ve skipped town.

But, maybe you could use the brief moment of solitude to reflect on your newfound freedom, know that you’re with a person or group of people who have chosen to hang out with you, and revel in the fact that you do indeed have friends even though you are not currently on your phone talking to someone.

Or you can always just be a jackass.

Treat Emotions Like Beer, Bottle Them up.

brothers.

brothers.

Although my parents would characterize my seemingly regular childhood temper tantrums as a pretty aggressive display of emotion, outside of demanding extra dessert and slapping my brothers for ripping the heads off my barbies, I’ve never been great at expressing my feelings.

Maybe it was because I grew up with three younger brothers.  As the oldest of four, and the only girl, I never really had a model for how to act.  My mother and I, although very close, are very different when it comes to personality.

Needless to say, if you’re going to survive eighteen years in the midst of a male dominated household, you have to learn how to protect yourself in emotional combat.  Aside from the regular physical battles, the way brothers really get to you is by finding your mental weaknesses, and attacking when you least expect it.

Growing up with brothers teaches you not to dwell on little things, to stand up for yourself, and how to be competitive.  But it also, unintentionally, leads you towards the masculine side of the emotional spectrum; so instead of saying how you feel in the moment, you retreat and don’t talk about it.

When you hang out with boys all the time, you learn that they would rather give you a beer than sit and listen to your problems.   

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friends.

Because nothing makes guys more uncomfortable than when a girl just unloads all her personal crap on them.  Especially if it’s during a football game or when you’re out at a bar. When you have a “girl day,” you learn to drink a beer and deal with it later.

This works well until you realize you are in college and have not sustained one real or lasting relationship during your lifetime.  If someone wanted to date me, I was either unaware or uninterested, because if it meant talking about feelings and being vulnerable, I didn’t want any part of it.

Everyone puts up walls for different reasons.  Personally, the initial thought of letting someone in that you barely know is daunting.  The act of sharing secrets, opening doors to your past, and exposing yourself, metaphorically, to another person for the sake of a connection is terrifying.

At the same time, while a little mystery is a good thing, there needs to be a dichotomy between the two people in a relationship to make it work.  Eventually you will have to let your guard down.

Recently, there have been an overwhelming amount of circumstances that formidably illustrate my inability to give up control over certain aspects of my life.  Whether it be attending a friend’s wedding, my parent’s thirtieth anniversary, or my most recent breakup, I have come to the brutal realization that I need to step outside my comfort zone in order to foster a meaningful connection with someone.

I’ve had my fair share of crazy experiences: skydiving, bungee jumping, one time I even ate cat food.  But the tangible part of being afraid is much more desirable than emotionally freefalling into unknown territory.  I mean at least after skydiving I got a sticker telling me I did a good job not dying.

Thinking about the craziest thing I’ve ever done, I immediately remember how terrified I was to actually commit to it.  Picking up and moving to a new city, alone, without a job or any financial support other than my own was the single most daunting event in my life.  But looking back on the past year and a half, knowing where I am now, the reward was totally worth the struggle.

At the end of the day, no one can make you take that leap other than yourself.  Outside influences, supportive or not, have no weight compared to what your gut tells you to do.  Knowing that personal reflection and a willingness to change are attributes I admire in someone, it only makes sense that I try and develop them.

My twenty-fifth birthday is only a few weeks away.  I’m not entirely positive if it is the looming “quarter-century” age label weighing on my conscious, or just the stark reality that I’m resisting a change I know I need to make, but either way, it’s scary as all hell knowing that being vulnerable is something that is not only expected, but appreciated in lasting relationships.

I guess I’ll just have to be twenty-five and terrified.

I just hope someone gives me a sticker on my thirtieth birthday.  I need to know I did a good job not dying.

In A Nutshell, This Is Why I Am Single.

377838_2231746724329_619540547_nIt’s hard to believe really.  I’m walking around this world without a hand to hold.

(Sorry, Mom. I’m too old for your sweaty palms!)

Maybe I’m not “the total package,” maybe I can get too comfortable around boys and forget to get “out of the friendzone.”

Really though, I’m sorry I burped in front of you. I thought it was okay.  My brothers don’t mind, but I guess that’s because they’re forced to have me in their immediate circle for the rest of my life. Where as you, unknown boyfriend of the future, you do not.

I mean like who wouldn’t want to date someone that does the following:

Disclaimer: Some of these have been embellished for entertainment. Either that or I’m just trying to have you not think I’m a total wack job.  But I guess that has been thrown out the window by now. 

  • Unbuckle my belt before I get into a stall in the bathroom
  • Constantly listen to female power ballads by Celine Dion in my car
  • Burp in front of the opposite sex and still expect them to think of me like a dainty, polished lady
  • Avoid showering for a couple days
  • Forget to shower for a couple days
  • Forget to shower for a week (I haven’t done this… in a long time)
  • Actively avoid eating vegetables
  • Lock myself out of my car and/or apartment
  • Drunk dial people on a Tuesday night
  • Barely shave my legs in the winter
  • Internally accept that “winter weight” is an epidemic and can’t do anything about it
  • Use the poop emoji more often than necessary
  • Talk about sexcapades in front of people I have a crush on and expect them to think I’m a pure, polished, non-hussy
  • Wake up on Saturday morning with ketchup stains on my elbow from the bar the night before
  • Argue with other humans that wine is just adult grapes, so I’m getting my fruit intake for the week
  • Irrationally hate other women for having good hair and a nice figure
  • Can’t civilly discuss politics or religion without going on a tangent about either (I know nothing about either, either.)
  • Attempt to talk to boys at the bar and the first thing out of my mouth is how rarely I do laundry
  • Utilize the same vocabulary as a filthy sailor man
  • Have daddy issues
  • Get too drunk and cry about all the feelings I internalize during the workweek
  • Think that twinkies and club soda is an acceptable dinner for a working professional female
  • Live in a closet
  • Sleep in a twin bed… with one set of sheets
  • Talk about my electronic devices as if they are humans
  • Throw a tizzy fit if I miss happy hour by 10 minutes

So boys, LINE UP!