Here it is ladies and gentlemen. In all my artistic glory, I’ve depicted The Vicious Cycle of Dating. Although I did not draw the reverse arrows, the cycle can happen starting with the nice girl turning the nice guy into an inevitable asshole.
Either way you spin the cycle, we all start out as nice people, yet we all get hurt one way or another and it alters who we are and how we treat our next romantic endeavor.
I will admit that I was the bitch who turned a nice guy into an asshole. Sometimes it’s not intentional, it just happens. And I’ve met guys who are all assholes to women because they were hurt. People cheat. They lie. They tell you what you want to hear. They leave. They say hurtful, demeaning, and terrible things. Putting someone through that will torture a good soul, twisting it into something darker. Do I believe deep down, hiding beneath every sarcastic, dickhole comment, that they truly are nice guys who just want to love and be loved in return? Yes. But it takes finding that one nice girl that’s left somewhere in this big, beautiful and brutish world to remind them who they truly are.
Remember that time you accidently said “I love you” to your sort-of boyfriend of three months?
Oh, wait you probably don’t because that happened to me. Not you.
We are all creatures of habit, and for several years I was dropped off at school by loving parents who would often wish me well, tell me to make good choices, and often say “Goodbye, love you!” As a teenager I would slam the car door shut as quickly as possible to ensure no one heard the ridiculous affection my parents had for me. In middle school the only love I wanted was from my boyfriend of two weeks. It was social suicide to have parents hug you, let alone tell you they loved you. Obviously, this may be an exaggeration. But back then it sure as hell felt that way.
After years of carpool lanes and “Goodbye, love you!”, I was taught to reciprocate. So when The Bartender dropped me off for my class last week, I instinctively said “Love you!” as I closed the car door.
As the car drove away, this was me:
As soon as I sat down in my class I hurriedly sent a text: FORCE OF HABIT ACCIDENT.
I wasn’t aware that I could feel utterly mortified, embarrassed, disgraced, shamed and humiliated all at the same time. (Except for the morning after I threw up a hostel floor and my roommate had to clean it up and remind me about it the next morning) but it turns out I have that ability even when I haven’t been drinking.
*On another note: more posts to come after this college kid finishes her final exams.
I apologize for the lack of posts. What with school starting up again this fall I haven’t been nearly as bored as I was during my internships. But there’s something else I’ve been doing lately – I’m kind of, sort of, seeing someone.
I feel like just as I was getting into the whole idea of being single and gettin’ my swag on at the bars every weekend, I just happened to wind up dating someone. After of course, my mother asked him for his phone number and he subsequently wrote it down for us as a joke. And then I in turn left him a note reading, “If you were just working for a tip tonight, great job, but if you need someone to squeeze your flat ass sometime, give me a call.”
And my crass humor and brazen (mostly delusional) self-confidence got me a lunch date, followed by many more drinks out and now I’m here. Dating someone. It’s new and it’s uncomfortable and I constantly feel like I have no idea what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do. It’s been almost 6 months since I ended things with my ex-boyfriend of over five years. He was my first everything. First real date, first time saying ‘I love you’, first date kiss, first sleepover, first fight, first struggle to find a balance in a relationship.
My most recent first date…ended in a high five.
And the awkwardness didn’t stop there. I’ve been fumbling my way through dating for the past few weeks and let me tell you, it’s nothing like a romantic comedy. I’ve said numerous things that have made me sound more idiotic than a drunk, blonde girl who ‘auditioned’ to be in a Girls Gone Wild video. I told him I was scared of his penis. I’ve thrown up in his front yard and proceeded to pass out in his bathroom. Last night, on accident, I punched him in the groin.
I’m sure there will be more stories to come. I can’t imagine I’ll get any better at this.
The following have been said to or by yours truly.
Things You Don’t Want to Hear in a Bar:
“If they don’t take you home, I will.”
Man: “Usually you would buy me a drink.” Uh actually I wouldn’t and I won’t. I have boobs. Boobs trump penis any day.
“Look, they’ve been laying the groundwork, but I’d much rather go home with you tonight.”
“I’m not with her, she’s just a friend. She’s actually on the Varsity Swim Team.” Yeah, she’s just a friend. And I’m just tipsy.
“I went to BYU.” Mormons.
“How can I get you home?” If you have to ask, it’s not going to happen.
“I’m not doing well, am I?” Not after that comment. Maintaining what little confidence you had is only going to get more difficult from here on out.
“I know your mom.” Although it would be worse if they said, “You look like your mom.”
“Oh you’re from TCU? You’re one of those girls.” Actually no, I’m not one of those girls, but you are, in fact, one of those assholes who assume stereotypes are always correct.
“I would hit that.” And I would hit your face.
“Please stop. You’re messing with my other options.”
“I remember your white blazer from last night. It’s very…um…unforgettable.”
“In my free time I play video games.” Guys, even if this is all you do in your free time, never say it to a girl. I watch Sex and the City all day, every day and I would never admit that to a potential.
Things I’m Fond of Hearing in Bars:
“Could I buy you a beer?” I don’t care that my Shiner is $1 tonight and that’s why you’re offering, a free drink always taste better.
“I’m from Britain.” & “I have a Swedish passport.” Anything that tells me that you are not American and I’m dropping my jaw (among other things) at the bar.
“I’m 24.” & “I work [here].” Job, check. Not a boy, check. Got your shit together, check.
“Would you like this seat?” Thank you for checking out my ass and then noticing how good it looks because of my 5 inch heels that I can barely walk in.
“I can’t concentrate because you’re smile is so pretty.” Aw, shucks, thanks orthodontia.
Watch the clip below to understand the topic I will be discussing:
Expectations ruin any good thing you thought could happen and all you end up with is disappointment and negativity.
I’m still learning this now that I’m home. Expecting that cute shirt to look good when you try it on or thinking you are going to have a legendary night out are harmful and detrimental thoughts to actual reality.
When you let go of expectations and let life just happen, you will be a lot more satisfied by the outcome, because you aren’t comparing it to what could have happened.
Expectations are human constructs. We manufacture them for ourselves as humans to set boundaries and ideals for our lives. Religion, culture, fashion, etc are all perceptions of what society expects of us. Life is what actually happens. It’s uncontrollable, and the more you try to tightly hold on and constrain it, the more out of control you actually begin to feel.
My friend gave me this advice about guys, “Don’t wish for anything. Don’t imagine anything. Because as soon as you do, whatever you wanted to happen will never, ever, in a million years, happen.”
So being single I’ve learned that I should have no hopes or dreams when it comes to men.
Which as negative as that sounds – it’s just a more realistic way to look at life. Dating isn’t a romantic comedy staring [insert beautiful, witty, and charmingly awkward actress] and [insert hunky male star with gorgeous smile that makes you forgive them at the end of the film for being an asshole]. Life is about making the best of any situation because you are living life, not acting out a contrived plot. We won’t ever be able to guess the ending of our lives, and that’s one of the perks of living.
Stories from abroad:
One thing I learned abroad was not to expect anything amazing, incredible, life-changing, or memorable to happen, because as soon as you expected it to happen – you would inevitably be disappointed when it didn’t happen.
The best example I have to champion the destruction of your expectations happened on a Wednesday night in Florence with my friend Stephanie.
We honestly wanted one drink. One simple drink. We went to our favorite student bar, Naima, and it was a slow night. The night was young and so were we, so we stopped by another bar called Lion’s Fountain. As we were perusing the crowd, we were approached by these guys who offered to buy us drinks. After talking for a while we went with them to a club, 21, and proceeded to get more free drinks. From there we went to a nearby pub, and following suit, more free drinks. Hell, Stephanie even got a bouquet of flowers. Then we went to another club, YAB. After that, the night is pretty much black. However, the next morning I woke up to this note in my phone:
No, I never saw Adam again, but that’s not really the point.
The point is, NONE of that would have happened if we had been planning on having some epic night out. We went out, not expecting anything and we ended up having a blast…albeit a black out…but a blast nonetheless.
So my advice to everyone on this Thirsty Thursday: screw expectations.