Tag Archives: relationships

Wait, did we just fight over a light?

Confession- I’ve been seeing this man, Jack for several weeks now. Really, like a month. He’s great, he’s fun. But the dude can kinda act like a princess. For example, he kept dropping hints about how he was losing an hour of his precious sleep when he stays over at my house and how he is tired. blah blah blah.I have to wake up 1-1.5 hours before him and get ready and apparently, I am ruining his slumber. His biggest complaint was about the light from the bathroom while I drowsily get ready… IMG_6034.JPGIMG_6035.JPG

IMG_6036.JPG I just couldn’t EVEN handle it…. So ya, I went off about a light. A light.

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Flashback: The Best Thing I Ever Did.

Throughout the duration of my less-than wonderful relationship with Dexter, we had our fair share of issues. I would imagine every couple does. But for whatever reason, I treated this particular issue as if it was a project. As if this behavior and habit could somehow be remedied with patience and kindness; character traits that I no longer calmly and quietly aspire to possess.

When Dexter and I would get into an argument, I would push his buttons and he would lose his temper. Our biggest issue was his inability to not curse, swear, or call me horrific and shocking names. 

Bitch, stupid, whore, idiot, slut, fuck off, cunt, fuck you, go to hell; the verbal attacks would be loaded with creative arrangements of these words and expressions. They were persistent and they were endless.

I could always see it coming. The pressure would build up and I would brace myself for the explosion. Each time, as the violent words were being fired mercilessly in my direction, I would get exceedingly quiet and exceptionally still. “Dexter,” I would always begin in the most gently voice I could muster, “take a breathe, we’ve talked about this. You know you cannot say these things to me”. Historically, it took between an hour to two days for him to calm down. And I always somehow ended up apologizing. I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand that aspect of my relationship with him. 

He once almost broke up with me because he wanted to be able to call me these names and words without consequence. “So you are prepared to tell your friends that we are no longer dating because I won’t let you call me a bitch?” I argued with him.

During the months and years that I “worked with him” on his “issue” I asked him why he thought it was ok to speak to me in such a way. He, of course, had no answer. “Would you ever say the horrible things you have said to me to your mother?” I persisted. “No? And why not?”

“Because she doesn’t deserve it!” he screamed. 

Oh, but I did? Fucking asshole. What the hell was I doing in that relationship?

This brings me to the good part; the best thing I ever did. One day, I was driving us to dinner in my car (since the loser could never afford gas) when we somehow got on the subject of Nuvo, a sparkling liqueur that I really liked. For whatever reason, he was furious at my love for this drink since he had never witnessed me drink it in our year-plus of dating. “When did you drink that last?! Who bought it for you?!” he demanded furiously. “Dexter, what’s your problem?!” I demanded right back. I pushed buttons like a pro.

“My problem is that you were a fucking whore-slut before I knew you! You fucking disgusting cunt!” 

I slammed my brakes. Hard. I didn’t check my mirror or have the slightest concern about the safety of this decision. We came to a screeching halt, right there in the middle of a popular road with a  speed limit of 40 mph.

“GET OUT.” He stared at me, horrified. “GET OUT OF MY CAR. RIGHT. NOW.” 

And so he did. He slammed the door hard and stood on the shoulder looking like he might punch a tree. And I drove off. I left.


Today, I drove past the very spot where I commanded Dexter get out of my car 14 months ago. It made me feel sick to my stomach. Absolutely sick. Why did I ever tolerate that? I am embarrassed that I ever allowed myself to be in that situation, let alone repeatedly. For years. Even after “the best thing I ever did”, I still “worked with him” on his angry explosions.

Everyone gets angry. Everyone fights. Now and then, everyone curses. I am not immune, I have cursed in arguments and have shouted. But I made it a point to never curse at him or call him names so that I could “set a positive example” about “how arguing should be done”.

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GAG. Thinking about how I tolerated this treatment makes me want to vomit in my shoe.

Although I’m upset with myself. Everything is a learning experience and boy, have I learned from these experiences. Ladies, men, everyone–respect yourself enough to not tolerate, empathize, or stand for demeaning and belittling verbal abuse and assaults. I forgive myself for my young stupidity. But I will never repeat the past. 

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18 Lessons Learned From My First Semester Single.

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As I am wrapping up my last semester as a undergrad, I discovered something monumental. This has been the first whole semester where I have been single. But really, I have never been single for the entirety of a semester and I’m fairly certain that this fact is my sole regret of my college experience. I should have experienced this all much earlier, BUT, it actually couldn’t have come at a more perfect time and I couldn’t be more thankful.

This semester, I learned vital lessons that, if I had not learned them, I would not have been prepared to face my future.

Although tiresome, troubling, and torturous at times, I ultimately learned 18 lessons that I value more than any boyfriend.

  1.  how to be alone
  2. how to not have a sole companion to tell my daily stories to
  3. how to pay attention, real attention, to my friends
  4. how to stop looking at my iPhone screen and look at the world and people around me
  5. how to use public transportation effectively–boyfriend ain’t gonna pick me up when I have a flat tire no more
  6. how to really be independent–no one does me favors or runs me errands anymore, it’s all me
  7. experimenting with different hair styles and outfits can help you shape yourself into the person you want to be
  8. how to accept and embrace failure without a shoulder to cry on
  9. how to spot bullshit
  10. and how to call it out as such
  11. going to the movies alone is liberating
  12. loneliness is a real emotion
  13.  it’s ok to feel it
  14. and how to deal with those feelings
  15. how to overcome my “struggles”, chin-up, and move forward
  16. grace and strength are often overrated and it’s ok to have a breakdown
  17. no one can define you, limit you, or hold you back unless you allow them to
  18. AND FINALLY, self respect will always be worth more than company
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8 Screenshots From An Asshole

Today is Easter Sunday. The second most boring day on Earth, after Christmas. Out of boredom, I decided to go through my camera roll and I discovered disturbing screenshots after screenshots of the bullshit I endured in a past bad relationship. You guessed it, with Dexter.

Confession: I need to provide full disclosure that these screenshots are, of course, only portions of conversations and, that if someone took screenshots of all of my conversations, there would certainly be some things that I would not be proud of. However, these images and segments of conversations are only snippets and limited examples of red flags that I SHOULD HAVE recognized and shut. the fuck. down. I did not alter the texts or delete any responses on either side. I clearly took multiply screenshots in the same sitting, but that does not mean that every instance was related or associated with one another. I only blurred out names and phone numbers and any information that would disclose the identity of others or my true identity. *winky face

I am choosing to post this article to 1) empower myself to never, ever repeat the mistakes of the past and never allow myself to be treated, spoken to in such ways again and 2) empower others to spot red flags and recognize them as such.

  • The time I hid at Savannah’s house when he cussed me out…

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  • And when I refused to reply and things just got worse…

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  • And when it continued with a “real threat”
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  • The time he threw a hissy fit because I didn’t invite him to hang out with me and my friends

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  • The time he broke up with me, but then was jealous of my friends…

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  • The time he broke up with me but wouldn’t leave me alone… and I fell for it AND even basically begged to not be left alone…. DAMN IT I’M AN IDIOT! I am the most pissed at my past self for this…

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  • The time he wanted to explain that he was just “a kind person with compassion”…gag

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  • And finally, the time I was the cold hearted one…

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 A huge mistake was tolerating all of this. A huge mistake Dexter made was obviously, sending these texts. There are countless texts I regret sending too. Everybody makes mistakes. Mistakes are a part of learning. I will learn from this. I have learned from this. Although bad, these experiences were good because I grew from them. Now to move forward and conquer the world *hair flip 

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The Time Machine.

Two years ago, I drunkenly stumbled into Savannah’s garage. Alone, sad, and cold, I had wandered off from the small party going on inside. Once inside the garage I fumbled my way to find the light switch and finally succeeded. The light hummed softly, irritating my soon-to-be headache. The garage sat still and empty as I peered around the small space. And that’s when I saw it. A wooden box. It stood about 7 feet tall and barely 4 feet wide. The light colored wood panels glowed in the fluorescent light. A small door sat in the middle of the box, centered with a glass panel. I peered through the glass, the inside was empty except for a wooden bench against the backside of the space.

I grazed the front panel and found a small handle. Prying it open, the warm smell of fresh wood wafted out of the door and I stepped inside. Quietly, I closed the door behind me and sat on the bench.

OH MY FUCKING GOD. I AM IN A TIME MACHINE. 

After soaking up my moments of pure joy of laughter and squealing, I finally emerged and returned to the party boasting victoriously about my find and my travel through time. Granted, my Time Machine is actually a free standing sauna, but to me it didn’t matter. It was an escape and I had found it and it was forever mine.

Last night, Savannah and Nadia threw a party with their other roommates. Last night, I made out with a guy in the Time Machine. Last night, we went back to see the dinosaurs and Jesus (yes, Jesus). Last night, I got to escape again and it was great.

The Time Machine and recent life experiences have allowed me to feel reflective of life and to be surprisingly wise. I say this, because recently I have observed once-relatable issues in my friends that I have now put far, far behind me. Here are their stories.

Esme

Esme, my sassy friend has a Dexter in her life. His name is Daniel and he dated Esme briefly a few years ago. Daniel and Esme have a “deeper connection” and are caught in a tragic, torturous debacle of love, dishonesty, and friendship. Daniel has a girlfriend that is not Esme, but he loves Esme and she loves him. They kissed two nights ago and he’s butt hurt because she is talking to another guy. The whole situation makes me want to roll my eyes and shake her. If he would do that to his girlfriend, he would do that to you too. He clearly isn’t honest, is confused, and wants to have his cake and eat it too. GET OUT NOW. But she won’t. She will never be able to rid herself of Daniel. I use to understand that feeling. You feel like you JUST. CAN’T. imagine life without the other one in it. Here’s what I know now, no matter what happens, the sun will still come up in the morning. Your favorite radio host will still be there on your morning commute. The seasons will still change. The world will not stop and life will still go on. 

Cameron

Cameron is the guy who I made out with in the Time Machine. He got out of a 3 year relationship 3 days ago. He’s confused, lonely, and is wallowing in the grief that comes with the end of a relationship. “Thanks for showing me your Time Machine,” he cooed as we flirtatious cuddled up to chat inside our wooden box from heaven. “This is really good for me, it’s going to help a lot. But oh God it will be so bad when she hears about this, she thinks you’re so pretty so that won’t help”. Wait, what? “Um, there’s no reason to tell her about this unless you two are getting back together,” I spoke probably too boldly. “Do you want to see her hurt?” he assured me he didn’t and that he wasn’t just on “a break”. Here’s what I know now, when you’re done, be done. Walk away, move forward, move on if need be. This is not The Notebook and you are neither Ryan Gosling nor Rachel McAdams. A tragic romance is not cute or romantic. At all. 

Shannon 

My good friend who goes to a different university, Shannon was dumped 2 months ago. “He said there were 3 reasons,” she explained over Facebook chat.

  1. He wants someone to like me as much as a like him
  2. He doesn’t see himself marrying me
  3. He doesn’t think he’ll ever fall in love with me

Ok, so he just validated that he’s an asshole who’s way too serious about not being serious. Shannon didn’t want to marry him, or if she did she definitely wasn’t expressing that because we are TOO FUCKING YOUNG for that shit. But whatever, he made a call, let’s move on right? Wrong. “Don’t talk to him anymore,” I advised her. “Just come to Hipsterville and let’s go out and have fun being single!”. “Oh he definitely still talks to me. It’s just so impossible to cut him out,” she complained. Here’s what I know now, anyone who you have to cut out of your life handed you the fucking scissors. Cut that shit, toss the scissors back to them for the next girl that comes along, and either let go, or be dragged. 

And I know all of these crucially important, world altering life lessons because of a shitty few months and because of The Time Machine.

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