Growing up, I was never fond of romantic comedies or dramas. They bore me to death and it always felt foolish. I wouldn’t say I didn’t believe in marriage, but I had no interest in it. Also, I was maybe 15 by that time, but still… I feel like American girls are shaped by society to want to fall in love, get married, have children, and be housewives. Barbies, play kitchens, baby dolls, heart-shaped everythings, etc. I never had any interest in that stuff.
Now that I’m 23 and have had my fair share of personal experiences with relationships, I’m still unsure about marriage. I can’t say I’m indifferent, but I don’t have a strong opinion on it. I’m still doing research before I state my final conclusion.
I agree that relationships shouldn’t be forced, but mathematically there should be someone out there who is perfect for you. “Your soul mate.” But there are a gazillion people, so what are the chances that they are any where in/near your vicinity? But someone should be able to match you percentage-wise (definitely not based on OkC’s system) just enough for you to be able to be content with that one person for the rest of your life. Imagine your best friend, who I’m sure you have had a couple falling-outs with, but overall have shared a great deal with each other over years. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Now imagine that best friend, in female form, and with awesome sex. That is the person you should marry.
I agree with marriage, mostly because marriage SHOULD be synonymous with monogamy, and commitment to monogamy. I wholeheartedly believe in monogamy, and sometimes the ring seals that deal (at least it should). But you’re right, it should never be forced.
I totally didn’t meant to get into that, but oh well.
My life story:
A Jackson Pollock painting.
Me, on the subject of marriage.
Disclaimer: This was intended to be conversational, not an essay, so please disregard the horrible syntax.
“I’m really scared for my generation, you know. The thing that scares me most is Tumblr. I hate what Tumblr has become. Because it like, it reminds me of those clique-y girls in high school that used to make fun of everyone and define what was cool, but in five years, when you all graduate, that shit doesn’t matter. No one gives a fuck about that shit. Instead of kids going out and making their own moments, they’re just taking these images and living vicariously through other people’s moments. It just kills me. Then you’ll meet them and they’re just the biggest turkey in the world. They don’t actually embody any of those things. They just emulate. It’s scary man, simulation life that we’re living. It scares me.”—Drake (via vofresh)
“Socializing is as exhausting as giving blood. People assume we loners are misanthropes, just sitting thinking, ‘Oh, people are such a bunch of assholes,’ but it’s really not like that. We just have a smaller tolerance for what it takes to be with others. It means having to perform. I get so tired of communicating.”
I’m not big on Valentine’s Day because it is a big hype and it makes people feel lonely or crappy when they don’t get anything. However, since I am in a relationship, it’s nice to receive a little something. I’ve also come to enjoy it by realizing it doesn’t just have to be about your significant…
i’m guilty of this… i might even be considered the high priestess of slutting this idea around: i love to snuggle/cuddle/nuzzle/etc.
i’ve been thinking about this concept in bed while i snuggle with my boyfriend, my stuffed animal elephant “snuffy” (jealous?).
i believe my generation is many things, including over-exposed to technology, overly reliant on material things, overly sexed, and dependent on seeking attention (whether we realize it or not) in all matters of life.
but we really are the biggest cuddle sluts in existence, in my opinion.
forget bringing a guy home after he buys you a few beers to go bone in the bathroom. people are coming back to their beds/couches/drunkenly to their floors to have this new or seasoned visitor hold them ever so softly as they drift to sleep.
sure we are sexting and daydreaming about making out on our office desk with the new fling(s), but when all is said and done, we’re talking about “crawling into bed” and “taking naps” and even buying shirts that say “lets eat pizza, make out, and take a nap” (i want this shirt so badly.)
now i call myself the high priestess of this trend because i have formulated my single-self life around my bed (commonly known as “the fortress”). my good friends know that my favorite past time is sleeping and i can often be caught napping at random times (my old roommate used to think i was dead because sometimes i sleep like a corpse: arms across chest/laying on back…i know its weird but it feels so good).
i’m ok with the idea of hanging out with someone new and instead of going to an overpriced restaurant, ordering sushi and eating it in my bed together. why not? especially since i know if this hang out is going well, we’re probably going to make out and, dare i say it, fall asleep in each others new arms in a post-sushi-comatose state.
but i’ve been wondering, i know i love to sleep, but what is it with our generations’ obsession with sleeping next to people? are we so starved for love/affection/attention that we literally plan dates just to feel, for even a few hours, that some stranger ‘loves us enough to hold us gently as we pass out’?
i read somewhere, most likely thought catalog, that snuggling is seemingly more intimate than sex. i can agree with this, and explained it to a friend of mine recently. think about your body when you’re about to sleep: usually dressed comfortably or in nothing at all, your breathing is slow, your heart rate is relaxed, your body is ready to shut down and recharge. having someone glued to the back of you, arms and legs wrapped with yours (i’m always the little spoon, cmon) makes this “shutting down” experience so intimate and sensual. they are holding your body, breathing with it, in silence, in the dark.
no wonder we crave it so much.
its dangerous when its a new person doing the holding because it can open your mind to thinking about them in a long term way, giving this often false hope of something real happening that mighttttt just be fleeting. its like, “he’s so comforting and gentle, i could be with him for a long time” and in reality it really could be like “this sushi was so good and i usually cuddle with body pillows, so you miss, will do.”
its a sad yet beautiful yet weird thing to think about.
i fully plan on getting my snuggle on this weekend and fully admit that my life is lacking some real affection (minus my family and wives who always please me..#aygurls). i guess i can say that it’s better than all of us running to bed to do carnal things… but let’s be honest, good snuggling usually leads to that, amiright?
i was really thinking about this concept yesterday as i was watching/sobbing to the movie Bright Star about the poet john keats and his fashionable love, fannie. their interactions were so minimal and yet you could feel the intensity of the fire burning inside each of them for each other. they snuggled a bit, and kissed only a tad. what if that’s all it took us to find our soul mate nowadays?
what if the next time we snuggled we really WERE allowing the next great love to hold us, nuzzle their face into the back of our necks, and press their body against yours?
"Okay... I'll be more specific. What do you like the most about yourself, physically and non physically?"
That’s still hard, but OK.
Physically: I like myself as a whole the best. My individual features, from head to toe, by themselves are insignificant. I don’t have any ONE attribute that sets me apart from the rest. But as the entire package I’m in love with what I see in the mirror each day. It has little to do with my physical attraction to myself, and much more to do with the relationship I have within myself that I have grown to love. It exudes outwards to my physical appearance. This is something I’ve acquired over the years and I hope it stays that way.
Non-physically: I love my sense of not-giving-a-fuck. I don’t think this needs an explanation. But I’ll elaborate anyway. Too many people care. They care too much, and what bothers me most is that they care too much about what others think. If we never had that insecurity we would never have the limitations we bestow upon ourselves and others. People are afraid to truly be themselves. What’s the fuckin’ point then?