one time, i felt like this. i was dating the wrong person. i was confused. i felt stuck. so i wrote this to try to make sense of it all. cognitive behavioral therapy on myself.
what the fuck is going on? i’m a romantic. i swear. i am such a romantic. but lately, i keep hearing the same things from men… some of whom i’ve been on dates with or guys who i THINK think they’re flirting or even bonding with me- i keep hearing about how men aren’t wired for monogamy or that it’s boring or unrealistic. this info on a date i’m on with a guy, coupled with the fact that i feel like i haven’t dated anyone who’s crazy enough about me to want me to be their girlfriend in about a year- is beginning to break my heart and cause me to lose faith in love or the idea that men actually maybe like and want to be in relationships too. i’m not even sure about the guy or if i like him that much before he’s clubbing me over the head with unromantic rationale.
i wonder if part of the reason for the responses i’m getting is because i have this website (too meta and or self referential? sorry. this one time only. actually, that’s probs a lie) and guys either don’t wanna date me because of it, or men have some misinformed idea that i don’t believe in a committed relationship, or they feel they can tell me their innermost thoughts on love/sex/dating/and relationshipps because they know i’m facinated by it and write about it. but in doing so, i become their friend; the bubble bursts and romance is debunked…leaving me feeling a bit hopeless on love.
i know i’ve felt it (love). i know i’ve been in amazing relationships. and the men i experienced them with would agree. i know what love can feel like…. and i haven’t felt it in a while.
i’m so sick of men i date telling me about how marriage and monogamy or whatever is unrealistic. or telling me about ex’s, etc. (even though i’m guilty of this too- i have made a new rule not to talk about ex’s with guys i might want to date) where is the mystery? what happened to the mystery? i want to believe in love and romance! i know it exists! i see it! i’ve felt it! i’ve had it!
but i feel cold and dead inside… today. i will change my mind in an hour or tomorrow… but you’ve caught me in a moment.
men i’ve met at the community table at m cafe or guys i’ve dated or just men i know or whatever tell me that they’re not satisfied. that they want the next best thing or something new or to cheat or to be alone or whatever!
but i also see married couples that seem happy and like best friends!
AND i see married couples that are young, but look dead inside, who don’t have sex anymore.
i talk to married men who complain about being married and flirt with women who aren’t their wives and say ‘of course i want to fuck other women, i’m a man’
it all just seems hopeless.
it’s seems like the idea of being in love is now just a bubble that will ultimately burst after a few months, but for me… date #2.
here’s my theory, i don’t even know if i’ll ever want to/or be asked to get married (again, cuz i was engaged when i was 21) but this is what i think the key to happiness is when it comes to love and dating and relationships:
meet someone who you’re attracted to, who you have great physical chemistry with, who you respect and who makes you laugh, and vice versa. and be their gf or bf (which means being monogamous) ONLY if the idea of losing them or them with another person makes you feel like you’re being punched in the stomach.
then stay with that person until you’re no longer compelled to. this doesn’t mean that every day will be great; but even when you have fights or are having a hard time with someone, you can still have a desire to be with them. however, the minute you honestly don’t feel the relationship is worth fighting for… get out of there as gracefully and in the kindest way possible.
but the shitty thing is, people aren’t honest with their partner or even WORSE: themselves. they stay in relationships years longer than they should. when they were miserable 10 months in but too much of a coward to leave. they cheat and could potentially bring diseases back into their partners bed, (their partner who is under the impression that they’re partaking in a monogamous relationship).
see, you can have whatever relationship you want: monogamous, open, no relationship, whatevs… as long as your partner is on the same page. and the relationship might morph and change so the two parties have to check in with each other and communicate! but people hate communication. they’re terrified of conflict and everyone’s such a people pleaser they just do and say what they think their partner wants to hear or believe! and then vent and complain to strangers. ugh!
i feel like i’m pretty clear on all this. so until i find someone who wants to do this with me that i have chemistry with and am fascinated by… my search continues. but hearing so many men tell me that men and women are wired differently lately has done my head in. yes, i get it! i heard you loud and clear 4 dudes on separate occasions this past week who said this to me: ‘men can get 10 girls pregnant in one day, but a woman can get pregnant once and be donzo for 9 months.’ or ‘it’s different for a woman.’ FUCK YOU! i get it. but women aren’t fucking naive. we love sex and crave newness too! women cheat too. we date younger men who are hot and firm and stylish with tons of energy who can make us cum over and over again with an outlook on the world that keeps us young and current. look at madonna! and women are crazy career driven too. women can be just as boycrazy as men are girlcrazy. obviously. nowadays, women care more about making a career/money/and a life for themselves than having a baby! wake the fuck up dudes! so don’t you look at me and tell me we’re so different.
and also, i have to remind myself, that i’ve met men who actually like relationships. i’ve met men who are romantics and sensitive and need arms to crawl into. i’ve often been the cold fish robot who turns off her emotions to a man when he puts his heart on the line or offers it up on a silver platter. in a way this is a letter to myself to remind myself that romance and love are real and no matter how many men tell me otherwise, i’m not gonna feel stupid or naive for thinking magic happens… at least during the first 6 months. jesus!
maybe my blawg has fucked me. maybe the small pool of men i’ve dated who even know about this silly thing have rattled me a bit because they think they know my inner monologue when i’m just trying to kiss them… i’m actually at my most calm and meditative when i’m kissing and sexxxing. that’s something i’ve only just realized. it’s when i actually turn my brain off.
my hyper self awareness and sensitivity makes me think too much and ask too many questions and feel too many feelings. it’s exhausting. especially for the men who date me.
i like powerful successful men, or men who are experts/masters at what they do- whatever it is. which is probably why i am feeling this way tonight. because that highlights the type of man who has many choices, so why would he want monogamy? why would he seek the benefits of a relationship when you could be with a different girl every night and focus on work and be a perma adolescent? that’s how i feel about relationships most of the time. i make my own living, i’ve never looked to a guy to support me, and i don’t like to waste time dating people i have luke warm feelings about when i could be with friends/family/or making stuff… creatively and financially. But then i remember how good falling and being in love felt. and even though i can barely remember, i know it’s the best thing in the world and something worth experiencing. it’s what books and movies and songs, and even babies are about (well, at least some babies).
so even though i’m fine on my own, and i’m selfish and grapple with my ego and self-importance and realizing my goals/dreams… even though i don’t feel incomplete without a bf, i’d still love it if i fell in love. who wouldn’t? which is why when i do go on a first or a few dates with someone and the vibe seems to be too rooted in logic and reality and brass tax and even though we’re holding hands or on a ‘romantic date’ but the idea that monogamy is for suckers and unrealistic… it just makes me think, ‘why are we doing this’? we need the mystery to create the love bubble. we need to put the logic and ‘bro out / best friend chatter’ to the wayside to give romance and love at least a chance to happen. otherwise, it’s like hanging out with a pal. gross. it’s like we all know too much now. we’ve seen everything fail or work SOMETIMES. we read blogs about celebrities and think ‘if they can’t make it work, WHO can?’ or ‘they look like how it should be, i only want that.’ ugh, now i’m rambling. ha. now?
to continue with that theme: if and when you do meet a new person all over again and you’re attracted and fascinated and there’s a mutual willingness and desire to keep seeing each other and get closer… that’s a whole other terrifying can of worms. being vulnerable with someone? existing with them in silence? trusting and believing they just like you? suddenly feeling exposed and seen? having to worry about being naked with them? being hyper sensitive with them , when normally you wouldn’t if you were just with someone you didn’t really care about, and a single comment could hurt your feelings? that is terrifying.
the other day, i contemplated just shutting off emotionally. it would be so much easier. with no feelings and without the ability to be emotionally available, no one could hurt me. i think i might try that.
-after i wrote this, i spoke to men who validated the idea that some guys do prefer committed relationships. they like monogamy. they told me that after a while, being single began to feel like ‘groundhogs day’. these men validated an idea or type of man who i’d thought went out the window: the kind of man who wants to be his best and do whatever he can to make the woman he’s with happy and her life better. that was a relief. cuz i know i have that desire and ability in myself when it comes to being truly/madly/deeply in love.
i might have to restructure this website of mine and make it lean more on the side of being a big sister type thing and lead with my podcast or giving advice or answering questions and of course, the blind leading the blind. maybe the title of the site alone is what skews mens opinion of me or gives them the impression they can tell me everything; or that i’m probably a slut; or makes them scared of me cuz they think i might write about them.
or maybe i just havent met the right guy. someone who likes my openness, but knows i feel deeply about things and am very sensitive; who knows i’m not out to ruin people’s lives or expose them in anyway-with the things i write about on this site.
i know there are many right guys. but maybe i havent met one recently who i vibe with in the way i want to; where at least our differences balance us out and make us stronger and happy and comfortable.
…at least one who is sure of me and doesn’t keep sprinkling in reminders that love or relationships are unrealistic to him.
but then again, i want and i want and i want people to be open to me/with me; to be vulnerable or give me their hearts and trust me and all that… but sometimes i wonder: i don’t love everyone i meet. i’m busy and closed off to a lot of people. so i need to make sure my need for someone to be open with me isn’t just my ego needing to be fed. i need to keep the part of me that behaves like an emotional vampire at bay. i used to do that a long time ago. collect hearts for sport. it’s mean and unnecessarily complicates your life.
but i still think talking about ex’s and how monogamy isn’t possible, ON A SECOND DATE, is just bad etiquette! i mean, use your brain guys! and yes, i know girls are totally guilty of this too.
but all of this dating stuff and meeting people is a delicate dance. cuz all it takes is one person that clicks in just the right way… and then all these bizarro, klunky, not quite right fits will all make sense. they weren’t meant to… because they needed to keep me open for the one who is most right for me.
I’ve never been the type of girl whose thought there’s a specific time or rule as to when to have sex with a guy. Every time I’ve had sex with a guy it’s been because I wanted to and it’s never really affected me badly.
I do however believe that if you 100% know you do NOT want to pursue a relationship with a guy, and want him STRICTLY for sex and sex alone… it’s totally ok to sex him on the first date/whenever you want! In this case, there’s no such thing as too soon. Just use a condom and make sure you see him naked in light so you can asses if he’s having some sort of herpes or other sexually transmitted disease/infection breakout. Women use men for sex too you know!
But, as girls we do have to realize that casual sex can be like a game of russian roulette for us:
We take a chance of accidentally forming feelings we thought were impossible for us to form. no matter how logical we went into this no strings attached self imposed agreement with ourself. this can happen when we sex cuz of annoying/amazing chemicals like oxtocin and dopamine that couse through our veins and surge through our brain when we are sexing and spending time with someone. Phermones are powerful.
We take a chance that the guy might not like us anymore. he may have gotten or not gotten what he wanted and might never call us again.
For the most part, I really don’t think there are any rules because I’ve had sex with guys on a first date and we’ve fallen in love and gone on to have long beautiful relationships .and i’ve waited months before sexxing and had just as long and beautiful a relationship. if its meant to be its meant to be. But be a smart woman about it. be in control of your actions. and give yourself the best chance possible.
First off, pick and choose what your goal is with the guy. Decide if he is WORTHY of YOU before you give all your power over to him and decide you’re just grateful he’s considering sticking his penis in your vagina!
Do you even like the guy?
Would you be embarrassed to be seen in public with him?
Do you think he’s funny or interesting?
Does he treat you well?
Do you respect him?
Do you want to fall in love and extend the magic and honeymoon period and the mystery for as long as possible? Then i advise waiting.
Is the dude totally stupid but the most gorgeous guy ever and for some weird reason he wants to take you home? DO IT! DO NOT PASS GO! TRY NOT TO GET AIDS AND LET THE ABERCROMBIE MODEL FIREMAN OR WHOEVER HE IS FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!
Are you just trying to scratch your drunken vaginal itch with some bonehead at the club that evening while you pine for the dude you’re really in love with who’s ignoring your texts and is probs woo’ing or fucking some other trollop? Then sex the bonehead and don’t look back. Actually, I’d suggest just taking a cab home, masturbating, and making an appointment with a good therapist first thing in the morning. But that’s just ME!
Do you have extreme daddy issues and just feel the need to sexualize every situation you’re in with every guy and think you’re just a sexually liberated/evolved woman who says ‘i just like sex! no big deal!’ but really it’s an unconscious need to feed your ego and get validation the only way you know how? Again, don’t do it then! Masturbate and call that therapist!
And if you DO like the dude and could see yourself being cozy with him for longer than one night, then don’t jump the gun!
The thing about waiting that’s cool is that the pay off is so much better for both parties involved!
Whether you wait three dates, a month, two months, or THREE months (if that’s even possible anymore) it makes it all better!
It means you’re being respectful of yourself. You’re not just letting any/every dirty dick inside your precious vadge hole. Yes, even YOU are precious!
It means less of a chance of getting an STD you’re lucky to not ALREADY have contracted.
It means your reputation (even if you say ‘i don’t give a fuck about what people think of me!’) will improve because as sexy or flirty as you might be, and whatever people might think of you/whatever you’ve done in the past… at least the dude who wants to fuck you will think ‘wow, she’s not as easy as i thought. if she’s not so quick to give me a blow job and sex, it means she probs doesn’t do that with other guys either! i can trust this girl. i could introduce her to my momz one day. i respect her more. and i like the chase cuz i’m a man and ultimately we’re still just animals and sometimes things are that simple.’
It means you two will bond and get to know each other as people and maybe even become friends, and laugh and do cool stuff together, other than fuck! isn’t that the goal? to be best friends and laugh with someone you’re attracted to? that’s my love goal. i mean, i want him to have a big private and a healthy bank account too, but you know what i’m saying.
It means you’re building something called anticipation! You can’t ever get that back if you give your puss away too soon! It’s a magical feeling: Like that feeling between Winnie Cooper and Kevin Arnold from the Wonder Years! Did they even ever have sex?! Who knows?! Who cares?! You get my point! Remember romance? Aiden waited to sexxx Carrie for this very reason! Everything moves soooo fast nowadays, sometimes we have to consciously slow down or we won’t enjoy how good something can feel. It’s like not chewing a hundred dollar filet mignon and just shoving it in your mouth and swallowing! Why would you want to do that when you could smell it and chew it and savor it?! This analogy is grossing me out and not the best representation of what i stand for, but again, i think you get my point.
And I’m not saying don’t mutually masturbate, or dry hump (which is what i call 7th grade sex), or let your boobies be suckled, or be fingered in a car at midnight, or work your way up to giving him a blow jobs and letting him lick your puss! No! NOT AT ALL! I’m just saying hold back on the straight up fucking/penetration! I mean god forbid you hang out for three months with some dude and THEN find out he has a tiny nubbin dick! No no no! That is not what I’m encouraging at all! DEFINITELY do a pants graze and find out what you’re dealing with down there! I mean JESUS CHRIST, don’t be irresponsible with your time!
The point is: i don’t care what you do or when you do it, you’re a grown up (i hope, i think). I just think it’s important for you to know why you make the choices you make, and to be aware of what your end goal is.
If you want to be taken seriously, by someone you’re entering a relationship with; or more importantly, taken seriously by yourself: then treat yourself like you’re your own child! Would you let the six yourself version of yourself be fucked by some stranger at the bar? I hope not!
Waiting to sexxx is encouraged because it’s giving you and a relationship your trying to nurture/foster the best chance!
And try not to sex some dude you don’t really like while you pine for the dude you ARE taking your time with. I used to do that. It makes the main relationship less precious, is a form of sabotage, complicates stuff and it’s being irresponsible/wreckless with someones feelings: both dude’s actually, and yours! How would you like it if some guy did that to you? Acted like you were his main focus but was dating & fucking other girls? I’m sure you already know cuz that has probs happened to you a million times if you aren’t very fascinating, attractive, fit, interesting, dynamic, or just live in a big city/small town with men in it.
I try to live by the golden rule: treat people the way you want to be treated. I break it all the time, but i’m trying. It’s a daily practice.
But back to sex: overall, if it’s meant to be and the guy really likes you (unfortunately i feel that for the most part, the ball is thrown into the guys court after you give yourself to him sexually) love and a relationship will follow no matter what unconscious, drunken choice you two made at 3am.
Good luck! It’s the blind leading the blind over here!
looking for love isn’t easy. it’s scary and stressful. trying to look your best and be brave enough to put yourself out there. seeing yourself reflected in someone’s eye’s. but we all do it. we’re addicted to the search. and all for someone who could potentially give us aids herpes.
i don’t know what i want. i didn’t think i was looking for anything. but i’m always looking for something. i must be.
the older i get, i analyze more and more. i know what worked and what didn’t work in the past.
i’m addicted to newness, but i want intimacy; something that comes with time. but, does it? haven’t you ever felt immediately intimate and electric with someone you barely know and that’s what keeps you knowing them…that’s what takes you to a place of real intimacy? i know intimacy and electricity are two separate things, but i want both. i want to feel safe. i want a good person who fights for me, gets me, knows how to deal with my crazy in a way that doesn’t frustrate me even more. and someone who calms my crazy just by being himself. someone i want to be the best version of myself for.
when it’s right, shouldn’t it feel effortless? at least in the beginning? how long does the beginning last? can it be the beginning forever? is this why i’m addicted to newness?
should i be with someone who’s different from other men i’ve dated in the past? should i try a new way? do i have a type, other than drummer? i feel like i don’t have a type. although i usually pick men who treat me well. so that’s good.
i’m looking for this invisible balance of things. it’s something i can’t quite put my finger on. i want to mix and match qualities in men i’ve known, men i meet, noticed in passing, heard of, imagine.
won’t i just know when it’s right? i thought i had in the past… but those things ended.
is it a timing thing? i mean, what am i really looking for with these men i put so much on; these men i think of all the time and consider; these men i affect and let myself be affected by in the worst and the best way? i mean, i’m not ready to get married. i’m definitely not ready to make a baby: which is what i truly consider to be the life changer. who cares who i marry? it’s the man i have a child with that’s forever. but i’m not looking to do either of those things yet, so ultimately all i can hope for with these dating, love, sexual, life experiences, dalliances, relationships is to learn. learn about myself. learn about others. learn how to communicate and be kind and considerate. learn about what works for me and what doesn’t. and that’s all very valuable stuff.
sometimes (most of the time?) the stress and strain i put on myself emotionally is more than is necessary. i forget to look at the bigger picture and i focus on the minutia under a magnifying glass. we’re all just gonna die and i’m bummed he hasn’t texted me back? well, in a perfect world he would have, but that’s neither here nor there. i’m here to learn about myself and have adventures and grow and be happy and affect others in a positive way maybe i hope. but the nuances and intricacies of searching and meeting and sexxxing and loving are intense and it’s hard not to get emotional and caught up in ego and details that make your head spin.
i hope i’m not alone in all this. i know i’m not. but knowing that doesn’t make it any less painful/exhausting.
my therapist (yawn) says i have two aspects of myself working at once: the adult and the child… and sometimes i let the little girl version of me make the choices for myself and that’s when i get into trouble.
i’m probably too demanding. i definitely think too much. i’m constantly needing reassurance and testing men.
will i stop this one day? or will i just meet the person who balances me out/rights my wrongs?
romantic movies make women sub consciously wake up every morning thinking ‘maybe today i’ll meet the man of my dreams!’ but what if that never happens?
that’s why people settle. i don’t want to settle. but what’s settling? i think the trick is: you have to know you can’t have it all with one person. you almost can, but something will always be lacking. the trick is, get as close to 100% as you can! that’s how you weigh the candidates. which guy comes closest to fulfilling your crazy long love necessities check list? which dude ranks highest on your vibe/chemistry meter?
i get very scared of the day-to-day calm in relationships. when a man says he feels very comfortable with me, i get very uncomfortable. i have a fear of being taken for granted.
should i blame those romantic movies or having had too much chaos in my childhood. leaving me with a need for chaos that resides in a very cozy spot deep inside my subconscious which is why it’s what i seek out and very often create for myself or at least try to create when i’m dating someone or in love, because it feels the way home felt. it’s what i know. it’s familiar and what i think i need/i’m supposed to have.
i have to work on this.
(continued from HERE)
the rapper and i puffed our cigars. i hoped he couldn’t tell i was turning green. in a bold move that only an insecure drunk white girl with bangs and sloppy eyeliner can make, thinking i was playing it cool and coming off as artfully bizarre and interesting- i switched tactics/decided to up the ante of my approach: i casually told the rapper that i’d never had an orgy before and that if he wanted, he should include me in whatever antics he was gonna get into later with the hired escorts.
it didn’t end there. i thought it would be helpful to paint a specific picture for him and suggested we all get a hotel room, a lot of champagne and get ‘way weird’. he seemed into it! OMG! i was so lucky! i mean, the night just could NOT end without me giving it my all in my quest to bed a rapper. who knows when i’d have this chance again?! i mean, i know i could actively seek out sleeping with rappers, but that’s just not my style. who has the time? i mean, that would be embarrassing. i prefer when opportunities to embarrass myself fall in my lap!
i sat on his lap while we sat around a table chatting with some guy with an accent. when i asked the guy with the accent what his name was, the rapper said ‘you don’t know who that is?’ i didn’t. but when i found out, i couldn’t believe it. this was my lucky day! i couldn’t believe it! what a babe! it was as if my vision board came to life. that was a joke. kind of. i know what i sound like. just stay with me. accent guy was/is a very well-known Scottish actor. tall and handsome, rugged good looks. he’d just been on the cover of all the tabloids having been released from rehab. why was he at this party then surrounded by all this temptation?
i asked accent guy to stand up so i could asses his height. that’s a big deal for me. i like men to be taller than me. it’s my issue/my problem. i know this. it just makes me feel small, and therefore more feminine. how dare you?! anyway, he stood up and we went from standing back to back, rubbing our bums together, to standing face to face- looking into eacothers eyes. i asked if he was drinking, he said no. oh phew! good for him!
a girl got up to get a champagne. immediately, without thinking or meaning to, i turned MYSELF into accent guy’s enabler and said: ‘will you get me a champagne too?’
accent guy/Scottish movie star: ‘i’m not getting you a champagne.’
me: ‘how come?’
Scotland: ‘if you were fucking me, i’d get you a champagne.’
me: ‘but how do you ever expect me to fuck you if you don’t get me a champagne.’
out of nowhere, the fedora guy from earlier swooped in: he whispered in my ear, told me he wasn’t leaving the party without my phone number and handed me a pen and a piece of paper. as if this moment were choreographed, i wrote down my info and told him to call me tomorrow. he scampered off. how exciting! wait, he was cute right? yeah, he was cute! i felt like i was in a movie. the night was so sexy. i mean, how could it go wrong?
the movie star/accent guy, the rapper and the prostitutes (whoops, i mean high-class escorts) all got up. the party was in a transitional state. a wave of thoughts and feeling flooded over me: ‘oh no! why? i was getting cozy! we were making a company move? that would take so much effort. house parties are great!’ but people wanted to go see some ‘it’ band play at some small hollywood club.
the rapper took me by the hand and we left the party. but wait, what was i gonna do with my car? i told the valet that i wanted to leave my car there; that i was too drunk to drive. but the valet said ‘no’ and brought my car up for me. wtf? there was no way i was gonna drive. i don’t do that. this was as close to a stupid (car & alcohol related) situation as i was gonna get. fuck! why didn’t i take a cab like i USUALLY do?!
so how did i remedy the sitch? instead of getting into the rappers escalade, his huge brother (not in the slang sense, but in the actual blood related sense) who must have been over 200 pounds and like 6’9 – crammed himself into my prius and drove my car to the club. it was the cutest thing i’d ever seen! to the naked eye: he was big, he was black, and he looked like a scary thug! but in reality: he was the sweetest teddy bear of a guy (who lived in the valley and had probably murdered someone).
now that i think about it, i’m pretty sure he was wearing cargo pants. whatever THAT means. he listened as i explained how to use the push button start and as i yammered on about how ‘surely no rapper would wanna sexxx me, cuz i don’t have an ass and i’m all white and weird-looking and not a rappers demo! i don’t look like kim k or coco!’ but 6’9 was so encouraging. he told me that if i took him back to my place, he’d TOTALLY fuck me! i appreciated that, but i said we should probs keep with our original plan and go to the club. so off we went, just me and a 200 and something pound rappers bro/entourage dude in cargo pants that i’d never met before who was now driving my car. off we went to da klub… (to be continued)
one of my girlfriends reminded me of that age-old, cliché quote: ‘the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result’. blah blah blah, yakkity shmakity. you know the quote. it was during a tear filled (mine) conversation with her where i was basically telling her about a frustrating day of miscommunication i’d had with the latest guy i’d found myself having a ‘thing’ with. a relationship? i suppose. yes. i’m just trying to sound tough. but we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend officially. we had no label. we were just getting to know each other, exclusively: not seeing/kissing/sexxing anyone else. his request, not mine. but i had NO desire to see anyone but him. however, we were NOT boyfriend and girlfriend. i mean technically it felt like the definition of what a boyfriend and girlfriend are… but we’d yet to have the talk. but not having a label is fine.
here’s the part where i come across as slightly bitter and confused re. labels:
personally, for someone like me, a label can be scary. maybe he was unsure. maybe i was unsure. and maybe it’s just nice to have a new level of relationship to graduate to; even sexy! as opposed to just rushing into bfgf. really it’s more about the quality of the time we spend together, how we’re treating eachother, the time we’re having; as opposed to a label that can make a person feel, well, labeled/antsy/trapped. and in the meantime, having no label means we’re together cuz we want to be together. not out of obligation or because we’ve put ourselves in a box that we might be afraid to tell the other one we want out of. but, in all honesty, i’m never afraid to leave… so, there goes the anti boyfriend/girlfriend label argument i’m trying to pound in a little too hard! what was wrong with me? why didn’t he want ME to be his gf? even though i didn’t want the label, my ego was bruised! i wanted HIM to want the label!
i’m sure i’m just forgetting about all the things i’d said/done to make him think i don’t want/am not ready for a boyfriend. perhaps that time i said: ‘we are NOT boyfriend and girlfriend.’ or ‘i’m completely afraid of commitment!’ or ‘when do you think this is gonna end?’ or ‘how do you think this is gonna play out?’, ‘NO labels’. oh shit, i did say those things, didn’t i? plus the countless jokes about wanting to date other people (even though i don’t), references to ex’s, checking out dudes in front of him…. fuck! what a little monster i am.
anyway, back to my original thought:
during this chat with my girlfriend (who i later found out was STONED- wait, what’s a bigger betrayl, not telling someone you’re on the phone with that you’re stoned or not telling someone you’re on the phone with you’re on adderal?) i told her how i was disappointed by the guy that day. our plans got confused and i was so angry for being made to wait around for him. but the real reason for my moodiness wasn’t actually because of what happened (as it was a total non problem) it was this: i was terrified and furious and so uncomfortable that i’d found myself vulnerable. i hated that i was affected by him. even though the day was a bit fucked and didn’t go as planned (possibly cuz mercury was in retrograde- ugh, i just threw up in my mouth… but like, you never know, ya know?!) i was enraged that i was emotionally vulnerable. enraged that someone i was slowly giving myself to disappointed me. i felt like maybe i was out on a limb by myself and thought about how there are no guarantees. ‘why should i put myself through this?’ ‘it probably wouldn’t last anyway. nothing did.’ was i bitter? was i jaded? i was terrified.
but then i also thought, if i don’t learn these relationship ‘people skills’ soon… i might never. and then where will i be? i almost need to surrender to loving someone, and being loved by someone; surrender to all the uncomfortable nuances of a relationship. like miscommunications and feeling feelings. being affected. being vulnerable. not knowing. uncharted territory. co existing with someone. trusting someone. being annoyed by someone. and learning how to walk through it all. if not now, when?
after all, i would have the same uncomfortable experience i’d had today with any guy. i had in the past and i would again. it was just a question of being open to it. it was a choice i had to make. i’m in charge of my choices. i could easily choose to close my heart, shut down and say to myself ‘i don’t wanna do this. i don’t wanna feel this way. i don’t want to be affected by someone like this. i don’t want to be so attached to someone emotionally. i’d rather just go back to being alone & casual makeouts with guys i’ll never let into my heart.’
but if i don’t surrender to being with someone in an honest and monogamous way, and learn how to communicate with someone and be completely seen and raw, etc, i would never build that muscle. i need to practice experiencing/getting through all the awkward uncomfortable moments that come with being vulnerable. if i try to control everything and only stay with someone when it’s easy and new… i’ll wake up at forty and be alone. but that’s ok, right? sure it is, but wouldn’t diving into something uncomfortable and scary NOW make my life expand and help me grow?
i’d met someone who was a good person with a good heart. we have tons of mutual friends. our sexual chemistry is epic. i respect him. he’s smart. he has morals. he’s sexy. he’s strong, he has an eight pack. he has that unspoken badass/cool factor. he’s a good dresser. i mean, wasn’t this a good jumping off point? my therapist says that when you meet someone, you’re doing a dance with them and your goal is to meet in the middle; two people help eachother balance eachother out/help eachother heal. i think i’d found someone i’d like to dance with; someone who could help me learn to trust and remind me of what it’s like to be in a healthy relationship/all the wisdom and experience there is to gain from a real relationship.
but i was so frustrated. his disappointing me that day, cuz we didn’t see eachother when i thought we would, made me want to use that as the perfect excuse to ruin it and run! i wanted to be angry and close my heart… something i was just beginning to give him. fuck, i was so annoyed. just a day earlier i told him ‘of all the people i might trust, i’d like to trust you’ and then i placed his hand on my privates as we spooned and said ‘this belongs to you.’ just before drifting off to sleep. and then the next day he lets me down? i was furious. my mind was reeling with thoughts and questions- moments of clarity and freak outs: maybe he wasnt into it like i was into him. but i was ONLY following his lead! why was he tricking me? this was just a reminder that nothing was guaranteed. why was he telling me about the rewards of a solid real relationship and telling me that i’m addicted to ‘newness’ and unable to trust… but then not wanting to call me his girlfriend and yet basically act as such? why did he screw up our plans? and why did i feel like when i was out of sight, i was out of mind? how much of my insecurities were just me? i’m guessing MOST! did i even LIKE him? i did. but i still felt a bit disconnected. did that mean he did too? or was i just burned and scarred by my last relationship and all my previous relationships? were these daddy issues? of course they were. fuck, how boring of me! how long can THAT be a crutch? yawn!
isn’t it weird how self-aware i /you/one can be about behavior… but as logical as you are and as smart and aware of your issues you can be, putting them into practice and behaving the way you know you should and cutting out the behavior you know you should cut out is so difficult? self-awareness and life practice are two different things. should i just be nice and forgive and keep moving forward? or should i get angry and sabotage it and run? well, my girlfriend said that if that’s what i usually do, i should change it up and not be the definition of insanity. hmmm. ok. i would continue to get to know him; decide if i like him; and not give him all the power. i’ll tell him how i feel when i feel stuff; when i’m calm; without being angry. i won’t freeze up and run. i won’t try to ruin it just so i can get out of being with someone in a real way.
so, to officially talk myself off the ledge:
yes, my feelings were really hurt, but i’m only THIS UBER sensitive cuz i really like him and felt disappointed/strung along. i wanna be with someone who wants to be with me in a real/crazy/intense/beautiful/epic way! and being left in the lurch gave me the impression he could take or leave me. i hope i’m just being dramatic. I’m so afraid of being sucked in just to have the rug pulled out from under me. but that’s the thing about life: there are no guarantees. that’s what makes it exciting AND scary.
i thought this could be something real. i want it to be something real. whenever i become vulnerable with a guy, i get so sensitive. i analyze everything; get mad so easily. this is nothing new for me. i think i just forget these emotions exist, like how women forget their period is coming or how painful birth is. if we remembered, we’d never let it happen again.
opening up my heart and letting someone in to potentially break it just seems like too great of a liability. as women, we already do so many other frightening things when we date/sex/love a man: we are seen at our worst, ride on the back of motorcycles, make ourself susceptible to getting pregnant/stds, fall into habits of unprotected sex, and worse… are asked if we’ll have anal sex!
but i’m gonna try it! (and by ‘it’ i’m referring to a relationship, not anal sex. but maybe. who knows? how dare you?!) cuz keeping my heart closed to the infinite possibility of a relationship would be an even bigger liability. right?
(continued from HERE)
holy fucking shit. there he was! all by himself on the patio: the rapper hyphenate! my bff of the evening in red and i were super excited, but of course we down played it to subtle exchanges of intense eye contact… but we both knew we were internally shrieking! we sauntered out onto the patio as if we were exploring the house; acting as if we had no idea who he was/he was in the way/he was invisible/and in no way the point of our focus. i’m sure he figured us out in a split second.
he said hello.
me: ‘oh, hi. we’re not interrupting your alone time? are we?’
‘two beautiful women? not at all.’
omg, he was TOTALLY in love with me! er, i mean us. i mean me. after all, to be fair, my casual acquaintance in red had a boyfriend!
we all sat down, ordered vodka sodas from a waitress (it was just that kind of party. i wanted to make a joke and say ‘i’ll have a disaronno on the rocks’ but i wasn’t loose enough to be that charming yet. that’s why i needed the drink to begin with!) and got to talking. he asked what i did. i said ‘i’m a plus sized model’. he seemed confused. phew. nonchalance would have made me spiral. why did i always set myself up like that? i told him i was a writer. he said he was a writer too. i said ‘oh you are?’ and he responded ‘you think i can’t write?!’ omg, did he just accuse me of being racist? (did i mention he was black? i thought saying he was a rapper was enough.) i just laughed and he told me he was also an actor, writer, producer, musician. boring! i KNEW all this! ‘oh wow.’ i said.
suddenly out of nowhere (as if sent by god to vadge block me) some skinny/indie/desperate/ass kissing actor walked up (my desperation was a totally DIFFERENT kind. how dare you?!) icing me and my babe friend out. they talked about having worked together and martial arts and stuff like that. i noticed the rapper was wearing a bizarro ring on his wedding finger. oh, that changed everything. i asked him about it. he said he was yes, ‘technically with someone. but in life, everyone does what they like.’ oh do they? what the fuck did that mean? i mean that sounds great and all, and the dark side of me subscribes to that way of thinking… but the little girl in me would also like to surround herself with people who live by the golden rule: treat people the way you wanna be treated. the majority of me wants to believe that people are faithful and you can trust people!
when my girlfriend and him started discussing having sex with emotion versus casual sex and she said she found it very hard to have sex without at least a kernel of real intimacy, the rapper nodded in agreeance/eye fucked her and regaled us with a story about shooting a film in china, feeling lonely, going to a brothel and fucking ten prostitutes. but after, he still felt empty. so THEN, he called a female friend of his to come out & visit and found that when she got there and cuddled him, that’s all he needed. it was an emotional connection he craved. um, was that his way of woo’ing her? er, i mean us?
so many thoughts flooded my mind:
•um, ok… what?
•the dude’s married and cheats? is that what he’s saying?
•so, cheating is ok?
•wait, prostitutes? gross! this isn’t ok! if i stand for ANYTHING, this isn’t it!
•does this mean he has aids? surely herpes. chlamydia? gonorrhea? help!
•does being famous mean you’re above having a moral compass? the rules just don’t apply to you?
•does everyone who’s not famous wish they could behave this way because it means they have money and notoriety and power and are above the constraints of the social norm?
•i wanna fuck a rapper and NOT get aids!
•hollywood is cray!
•just keep drinking and see where the night takes you.
•YOU COULD FUCK A RAPPER YO!
•please don’t say ‘yo’ or the n word or even the phrase ‘the n word’ out loud. not that you would alexi. not that you would. just saying.
the birthday cake was being presented and our patio convo was broken just as quicky as it began. we joined the rest of the party by the pool to sing happy birthday.
after the cake was cut and i made sure not to eat a slice because i was in public trying to appear sexy, i started chatting with a guy in a fedora. in my fun drunk haze, my whole ‘no fedoras’ rule went out the window. i pulled him aside and said:
‘are you gay?’
me: ‘are you sure?’
fedora: ‘i’m sure’
me: ‘how tall are you?’
fedora: ‘tall enough’
me: ‘k. cuz i’m looking to get into trouble tonight’
and with that i was off.
my bff wanted to go home to her boyfriend. she was sleepy from red wine. we had a pow wow in the ladies room & regrouped like girls do. she reassured me that i wasn’t acting dumb, that i was beautiful, and that i was not fat. so, i said she could go. she left and you know what? i missed her immediately. it’s so nice having a girlfriend/traveling in a twosome.
i went back outside and found my rapper by the pool smoking a cigar surrounded by professional escorts! wtf?? were all the hollywood cliché’s true? god, for someone who was born and raised in west hollywood, i was so naive! like a complete asshole, to blend in, i asked for a cigar too… like Samantha in the pilot episode of sex and the city when she’s making a move on mr. big. see? life really does imitate art! i had managed to regain the rappers attention. yay! he spotted me and said ‘what’s up legs’. phew! but uh oh, i was getting too drunk. i was aware of what i was saying, but i was two drinks away from vomiting in a potted plant… something i’ve only done once seven years ago that i never want to experience again. i had to pace myself.
(to be continued)
(continued from HERE)
it was a Wednesday night. was it a full moon? it may as well have been. i canceled my podcast to meet a friend of mine at some hollywood party he invited me to; a directors birthday. i knew ahead of time i’d be drinking: partly because i was wanting to have a crazy night and partly cuz i knew i’d be self-conscious going to a party alone and hanging out with famous people. it was all very conscious: i’d had a conversation/checked in with myself (as my therapist would say) and made the decision to get drunk that night and have an adventure; be it a make out, radome sex, an orgy, a threesome, or just end up naked in a hot tub. i had no idea… but i wanted to get weird.
i ate a big macro at m cafe for dinner to line my stomach. i drove to the party, which in hind sight was SUPER stupid (do people ever say ‘soups stoops’?) because i knew i was gonna drink. i totally should have cabbed it. oh well, i handled it all fine. we’ll get to how, later. i pulled up, gave the valet my car (sometimes i forget to take off my bizarro prius key/button thing, and go into wherever it is i’m going leaving the valet in the lurch… but NOT this time! it was a sign! tonight was gonna be a good night! or just memorable!?) i passed by men in bow ties pointing which way to go up the stairs to get to where the party was happening. i navigated walking on the tiniest, most NARROW sliver of concrete between a wall and a pool, praying i didn’t topple in upon arrival. i would have DIED! DIED!
i wondered if i might end up in the pool later, topless with all the other party goers. and hopefully only the most good-looking of the bunch! but that was neither here no there. i didn’t have time to wonder about ridiculous NONENSE… hey look, there’s my friend! he wasn’t exactly a friend. he was an acquaintance i’d known for a while. i’d always been attracted to him… but something about him scared me. was it the fact that i thought he might be mean and have no feelings? yes! also, i just didn’t feel safe with him. and yet i was drawn to him. he has nice eyes and is really smart. unfortunately i knew i’d never get close enough to really learn from him. and for political reasons, i could never date him… cuz i’m taller and he dated my friend. i’m actually kind of over the height thing. kind of. also, i knew if i ever slept with him… he would turn on me in an instant. we would no longer even have the casual semblance of a friendship we were pretending to have. which at least involved witty banter and occasional texting. i love being able to text with people i don’t know very well about the deepest darkest most honest thoughts i’m having at any given moment. it’s like emotional chat roulette, except without the visuals, and in twitter form. n e wayz…
i said hello to my friend who’d invited me, immediately ordered a vodka soda, sat down next to that dude who wrote that movie, i know, right?! i ran into people i knew that i didn’t expect to see. one of which was a beautiful girl, whose face always makes me happy when i see it. she was dressed ONLY/ALL in red. this would only add to the night!
me and my girlfriend in red (who is like a foot shorter than me btw) did laps and took in the party: holy shit! a rapper i’d had a crush on for like 2 weeks, a weird indie pop star girl with lip injections wearing flats (later i was so happy to see her eating a cup cake… it just made her more likable) and a bevy of other people i’ll get to…
one drink turned into four and before i knew it i was negotiating a threesome with a pale skinned, bloated (i’m assuming from pills), yet charming and smart gothy pop star with weird eyes and his hot babe girlfriend who said that if we all were to have sex- i was only allowed to have sex with her and not him. wait, what? what kind of bullshit threesome was this turning into… BEFORE IT EVEN STARTED!? i don’t think so! i mean, yes, i know at some point in my life i’ll be out of experiences to experience and will want to learn how to lick pussy… but i wasn’t there yet; and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna happen in a situation being labeled as some MOCK threesome! no dice. it’s for the best though, as i was almost positive the pop star had herpes. on a side note, my gynecologist says everyone has herpes and that getting it is only a matter of time… but i don’t have it, and (knock on wood) i’d like to keep it that way. yikes.
this party was actually like a herpes land mine. i should have stayed home. NOT! anyways, i dodged that std bullet and moved on to gossiping with actors, an ex boyfriend that thinks i’m a nutcase (why? just because i kept repeating my latest mantra “we’re all gonna die! it’s just a matter of when and how! you have to get weird and be brave and collect as many experiences as possible!” followed by “so, total hypothetical, if we were to have sex… would you buy me pancakes tomorrow morning?”) and keeping tabs on the rapper hyphenate. it’s important to ALWAYS have a goal! and my goal of the evening quickly solidified. actually, in this case, i had several 1. don’t get herpes and 2. have sex with a rapper.
on my way to the ladies room, i made out with the guy who invited me to the party (whoops) which was awesome, but it had to be put on ice cuz he had his eye on the singer with lip injections, i had my sights set on the rapper… and this wasn’t a time to fuck around! we could make out ANYTIME! during our kiss the babely director dude walked in (does that mean i’ll never be able to kiss him?) and i ran away, pushing my friend toward lip injections as i linked back up with my bff in red. we found the rapper on a patio… (to be continued)
so much stuff has happened. i haven’t written about my personal life in a while. i’ve been wanting to, but every time i tried to force myself… i’d do every other thing possible to avoid sitting down and writing. and i’ve been up to so much too! i’ve been having so many adventures, i’ve been using that as an excuse for not writing ‘well i’m too busy collecting stories.’ or ‘i can’t beat myself up for not writing because this is the down time where i’m supposed to experience things and reflect and…. zzzzzzz’. so now i’m sitting down and facing myself. what the fuck have i been up to? what the fuck have i been doing? where do i even start? i got out of a relationship… and the dude i dated is so unattractive to me now, i can’t even look back. however… the sex was great and he was kind. but given the opportunity, i will never sleep with him again. i call that ‘moving backwards’. i’m not saying the stories i’m about to tell you don’t involve me sleeping with guys i vowed never to mess around with again… i just mean, not THAT guy. even as we were breaking up; as i sat in his car during that cliché uncomfortable silence that happens when you sit in a car at night with the person you’re about to not be in a relationship with anymore… while i was semi tearing up, i was doing an internal inventory of the boys i’d been wanting to sleep with/guys i could potentially hook up with now that i was single! guys i’d met, known, seen that i thought ‘hmm… if and when i become single, he seems neat/sexy/cool/interesting… (or) i’d really love to make-out/be fucked by that guy!’ but no one even came to mind!
immediately after the break up, i just kept moving forward (like a shark?) for a moment i was fixated on a guy who was married but that’s not my style. i know better. and that momentary crush dissipated quickly. next i slept with a guy i’d met through a friend. over drinks, he gave me the impression he had split from his girlfriend. but after we slept together, he told me he was married, but that they were in a ‘weird place and taking space’. what the fuck? um, why didn’t anyone think to tell me about this? where was the wedding ring he was supposed to be wearing? why didn’t i know this before he asked me to drinks? fuck! even though this was not my problem, this was definitely NOT the type of experience i wanted to continue or repeat. we remained friends (and by friends, i mean casual acquaintances) but before we said goodbye, i talked to him for a very long while (over the phone) about his options/what his behavior meant. i tried to help him look at himself. but all he had were answers that made him feel less guilty and as if he had his life all figured out/wrapped up in a bow/and an excuse for everything. ha! i was already used to this type of lying one does to ones self from my conversations with the previous married guy i’d tried to psychoanalyze. i was very familiar with this bizarro compartmentalizing and rationalizing people who are too scared to just follow their heart do. they like to explain away to whoever will listen… but really, they’re talking to themselves.
i only had enough energy to say a few words to the guy. cuz this type of convo is exhausting and more often than not, results in nothing changing: ‘jesus fucking christ, the golden rule is treat people the way you want to be treated! if you don’t want to be with her, leave. the world won’t implode. you’ll both be okay. you’ll be doing each other a service. thank god you two don’t have kids! get out before she accidentally gets pregnant! or what if you cheat on her and get a disease and then give it to HER?! this isn’t ok! how would you feel if your wife walked around without a ring on, acted as if she were single, and slept with someone? probably not so good!’ ‘but she wouldn’t be able to survive without me. she’d crumble. she’s not strong enough. i wait around cuz maybe it’ll get better.’ ‘but how hard is it supposed to be? you’re still young! it’s not supposed to be this hard! you cheated! the trust is gone! this is not ok! oh, you think she wouldn’t be ok without you? she’d crumble? oh, really? fuck you! that is so self-indulgent! she’d be fine! believe me! do her a favor and end it! let her show you how fine she’d be! you’re being a pussy! you’re lying to yourself because you’re scared to be alone, you’re a people pleaser, and you want it both ways! That’s not ok!’
He decided to stay with his wife. yikes. these two back to back experiences with unhappy, confused, unavailable men made me question love/monogamy/and marriage… for a SECOND. then i remembered (after talking to dr. drew during one of my 7th grade style call in’s to loveline on kroq) that these are two very specific cases and don’t represent all men. phew. but why was i attracting such emotionally confused and unavailable men? was it because they were a reflection of me? was i just as confused and unavailable as them? or did they need to meet me because i was the perfect person to have a conversation with to send them back in the right direction… whatever that means? or at least a direction toward living a more clear and honest life? hmmm. who knows? but it didn’t go un-looked at on my end.
next, i went on a date with a SINGLE guy: tall, young, beautiful and totally wrong for me because i was completely uninterested in nearly everything he had to say. i didn’t want to be… but i was. we were in very different place in our lives. he gave me an epic guitar lesson… and that was the highlight. i wished it had been just that. i could have kept having him show me chords forever. he was such a wonderful teacher. thanks to him and our date, i realized that there’s a big difference between being able to play guitar and being able to teach guitar or teach anything in general. you can be a master at something, but it’s a completely different skill to be able to teach someone something. teaching takes patience and the art of communicating clearly. he was lovely, just not for me. we did not have sex; but he DID try to lick my privates… and i appreciate that!
i had lost a lot of weight at the tail end of my relationship because i’d been stressed from work. however, the week my relationship ended (in an empty indian restaurant on ventura blvd aka ‘the valley’ btw) my life suddenly slowed down. i feared i’d put weight back on… and i did. not a ton. i just went back to my normal self. no big deal. but i used this as an excuse to go into lock down mode. i needed to be alone. i needed to mourn the death of my relationship. i didn’t feel sexy. i didn’t want to be touched. i stayed in and watched bad tv- reality show bullshit, movies, the original 90210, sex and the city, something borrowed, an unmarried woman, broken english. i picked at my skin and tried to self sabotage….
and then out of nowhere, something shifted. i was in a weird place. NO, a NEW weird place. i was (metaphorically speaking) in a waiting room – work wise. i’d had all these meetings about projects and stuff and whatever and now all i could do was wait to hear back from the powers that be.
and even though i was continuing to wake up, breathe, eat, sleep, podcast, do some mediocre blawging and run errands, i felt aimless and a bit hopeless. but my previous isolated/internal depression turned into something else. i felt like i had nothing to lose.
i woke up one day and i no longer cared to stay in all night watching bad tv, hiding up in my apartment.
i wanted to be reckless and get drunk and make out and have sex and adventures. i didn’t give a fuck! was it because it was getting warmer out? no. i was living by a new code. i had a subconscious (now conscious) mantra going on in the back of my mind: ‘we’re all gonna die. it’s just a matter of when and how. so collect as many adventures as possible.’ and that’s when shit got exciting. this is just an intro to the stories to come… (to be continued)
i haven’t even been able to successfully masturbate recently. i mean, if i was in the mood to even try, i would be successful at it… but i haven’t been. i’m walking around in the weirdest mood lately. sure. i just got an i-phone, so life can’t be ALL that bad. now i have more incentive to get in a car wreck while i’m pretending NOT to be: a) fascinated by how much my phone can do/ b) texting and driving. and ps: day one of owning the i-phone, when i’m not driving, i’m walking around los Angeles talking to anyone who will listen/crosses my path and saying things like ‘hey, do you have an i-phone?’ ‘yeah. why?’ ‘cuz, i just got one. so, yeah. i have one too now. it’s crazy, right?!’ while the person just looks at me with a deadpan expression thinking ‘this poor girl. where was she two years ago when i was as excited as she is now? poor thing. she can’t even partake in the collective excitement that passed her by.’ and then i say ‘do you have Siri?’ and that’s when i realize there’s an i-phone class system. and as much as i want to connect, i can’t; cuz we’re the same but different.
anyway, i-phone bullshit aside, i don’t know if it was the full moon the other day, or my recent break up, or mercury in retrograde or whatever else people are saying is causing the general collective moodiness… but i feel weird. i feel like i’ve been sleep walking. i feel glazed over. i ALREADY blame my i-phone for that! to be fair, i should blame my blackberry too. the i-phone is just an intense chaser. regardless, here’s where i’m at: i’m watching too much tv. late nights up till 7am watching back to back episodes of the original Beverly hills 90210 on dvd; every Kardashian show; mob wives; each and every ‘real housewives of…’ wherever, bravo Andy in the clubhouse; bettheny ever after; tmz; the soup; Chelsea lately; fuck… i even watched ‘shahs of sunset’! ‘SHAHS OF MOTHERFUCKING SUNSET!” i promised myself i wouldnt! BUT I DID! and when i tell my friends i was up till 7am and my eyes are burning, they get excited, thinking i was having sex or raging or having adventures - which i’m known to do. but no. i’ve been in a bizarro, glazed over, lethargic, haze these past ten days. ten days is it?
i’m trying my hardest not to pick at bumps on my body that no one can see but me (i call this behavior ‘home surgery’/self sabotage) because I’m anxiety ridden and worried that my dreams aren’t gonna come true and that ultimately everything isn’t gonna be ok. i also think the picking is me subconsciously, but now consciously, trying to prevent myself from getting naked in front of strangers. this behavior isn’t new for me. it seems to always strike when i’m in between relationships. i just forget about this. i block it out. like how girls block out the warning signs that they’re gonna get their period… even though it happens every month. or how women (or so i’ve heard) block out how painful it is to give birth. cuz if they didn’t, they’d never have another kid again. i guess i block out my post break up behavior because if i didn’t i might never jump back into being in love again?
during this slump… i’ve found moments of warmth come while watching ‘something borrowed’ for the umpteenth time. i’ve even found myself literally saying to myself things like “John Krasinski is so likable. he’s the new tom hanks! i’m telling you!” and “this ginnifer goodwin girl has such a lovable face. i really adore her. i don’t even care that she spells her name all weird with a ‘g’ or whatevs.” and “this might be the best work Kate Hudson has ever done. for real. and yeah, i’m even factoring in her performance in ‘almost famous’ too, even.”
i still have no crush on anyone. i’m pissed and disenchanted that my ex boyfriend turned out to be what i hoped/thought he wasn’t when i first met him: a pussy. someone too sensitive and overall, someone not strong enough for me. someone who refused to see me clearly, but pretended to. someone who did himself the disservice of not being his true self around me because i intimidated him. all of this bums me out, because all i thought he was doing and all i wanted him to be was himself. all i wanted him to do was love me and not be phased by me and my sense of humor. i just wanted to accept him, and for him to accept me.
and now, these past few days, i’ve been catching myself falling into pockets of momentary disillusionment. momentary pockets of disenchantment where i question if anyone will ever love me again. if i’ll ever love anyone. i’ve thought: what’s the point? everything ends or gets shitty eventually anyway, so why even start again? why even try? and even when/if i do start dating again… even if it’s just because i want to have sex and be touched and kissed again… why invest my heart or any part of me emotionally? why do that? i see so many of my friends who are in lackluster relationships. they’re unhappy, and cheating, or fighting, or faking, or gloomy, or staying in their situation out of fear, or settling. what the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK!? it all looks so shitty! like everything’s doomed/has an expiration date.
right now, i’m not looking for a boyfriend… however, i am on the verge of being in dire need of sex again… but that’s just primal. i just feel ‘blah’. i’m trying though. trying to take the advice i’d give to a friend. i wake up and make coffee and shave my legs and make myself as cute as i can before i leave the house so i can trick myself into feeling good. so i can feel a bit sexy? i’m staying busy, and making lists, and checking things off on those goal lists. i’m focusing on work, i’m spending time with my family, and friends, and my i-phone. i’m making songs, and writing, and taking epsom salt baths, and playing drums, and trying new restaurants (and trying to balance THAT with not gaining too much weight). i’m staying up till 4am reading the Craigslist missed connections, and trolling Facebook/twitter, and reading, and going to the korean naked spa… i’m trying to distract myself; to fake it till i make it. i’m newly single-ish, not interested in anyone, AND i’m waiting to begin a job that’s around the corner… so the in between, down time is an uncomfortable feeling for me. i’m sleeping in late. have a hard time getting out of bed, etc. i know i said all this… but it just feels really unlike me. it feels like i have mono! i don’t, but it feels like i do! i know i am the perf candidate for mono, but i already had it in eighth grade! how DARE you!
one of my favorite things to do while i’m out and about, when i am finally able to get out of my goddamn front door, is smile at strangers who look all grumpy. and when we make eye contact, their grumpy face melts away into a smile. that makes me happy. that little moment has a ripple effect and not only does it make me feel less alone and connected to the world, it makes me feel like i made a little contribution. something as simple as eye contact and a smile.
my therapist tells me that this mood i’m in, this phase, is the quiet before the storm. i believe him. i have to. what else can i do? he says things like ‘everything is exactly as it needs to be’. he tells me to say this to myself when i’m panicked and am forgetting to breathe (which i often do). and so i say it aloud to myself, when no one’s looking/around. duh. and it actually does calm me. i tell myself that this hazy rut will pass and needs to exist for reasons i’ll understand later.
and overall, i know that no matter how bitter the taste in my mouth gets right now- regarding love and relationships- i’m a romantic. and when it’s right, it’s right. i’ll feel it/vibe it when i cross paths with whoever i’m meant to be sexxxing next or whoever i’m meant to love next. right now, i don’t think they’ll be the same person… but one day they will be. xoxo