If my best friend and I had a dollar for every time a guy whipped out his penis on the first date with no rhyme or reason, we would have like six dollars. That’s way too many dollars. Boys — because lets face it, you can’t be called men — let me be very clear. THIS IS SEXUAL HARASSMENT. Just because you muster up the courage to give me a big wet one, does not mean your newly founded confidence boost is somehow a justification for your unforgivable lack of self-control. A sweet kiss goodnight from me does not mean un-zipping your pants is the logical next move. Why? Are you a sexual predator — frantically exposing him self to young children at the park? Are you that desperate for someone other than yourself to take a look? No, I really do not want to touch it. I really don’t and frankly never will want to touch it, because Alan — this will be our very last encounter. You so desperately needed me to drive you to your car that was parked “so far away” from the restaurant, but as soon as you exit my vehicle, I will be blocking your number, adding you to “the list. ” Please don’t enjoy the rest of your evening, which by the way, was going perfectly fine until you decided to expose yourself, both literally and figuratively.
- Two Month Marker
“You’re too dominant for me. “
That’s what he told me as i took another sip of my white wine. I’m ashamed to admit this more than anything, but those words — oh, those words Call girls in Dharamshala would never leave me.
Who the hell was he to tell me that I’m “too dominant? ” We haven’t been dating for more than a couple of months. He was the lunatic who snapped at me over a card game.
As if my Plenty of Fish account showed the very essence of my inner being — the only thing my dating profile outlined were my D cups and my very sad attempt at appearing carefree. (As if i don’t have generalized anxiety). So what did I expect my profile to attract? D-O-M-I-N-A-N-T. I said the word over and over again in my head. How? When? I needed specific examples because I couldn’t think of a single one. More importantly, why did it bother me so much? I couldn’t let it go.
He could have said anything, but why that word? I’ve been called many things by twenty-something boys — crazy, too loud, but those seem to roll right off my back. Calling a girl crazy is like calling a guy scum. It’s neither secret nor insult — it’s plain fact. As twenty-something girls, we not only expect the “crazy” label, we welcome it! For us, “crazy” is just code for “indecisive yet intuitive female. ” She knows everything, but doesn’t have the slightest clue what she wants to do with this abundance of information. Overwhelming? At times, our emotions tend to be a tad unbalanced. I’m totally fine with this and do take full responsibility, however, what I am not okay with is being called “too dominant. ” Now before I sound like a typical millennial, let me clarify — I’m not actually saying, “I know everything, ” but at this very particular point in time — my “quarter life crisis” — I’ve realized something. An epiphany if you will: twenty-something boys claim to want a strong-minded, intelligent woman, but that’s a complete lie.
So, as Beyonce says in Lemonade, “I’m just too much for you. “
- Ex-boyfriends Versus Starting Over?
Okay ladies, we know we’re all guilty of it. Raise your hand (if you’re reading this while you’re alone and not on the subway) if you have ever gone back to an ex after a newly failed relationship. Lots of hands I presume! Lets face it, going back to an ex for comfort is so much easier than updating your profile picture on Plenty of Crap — I mean Fish— or Match or Tinder, and sifting through dozens of new messages. I should warn you — those of you who have found ways around the harsh reality and true travesty dating has become — it is worse than you think. Now I know I may sound a little cynical here and okay, maybe at times, I am, but not without fair reason! Anyway, back to the topic at hand. To all new friends, enemies and future lovers, please, if you identify as the male sex, I beg of you, STOP USING SELFIE STICKS. I am ashamed and dare I say disturbed at the number of grown men using Selfie Sticks. (I’m also upset that i had to just add the word Selfie to my Word dictionary). I’d like to think of myself as kind and broad-minded, but how can i not judge when there are six-foot, twenty-eight-year-old guys holding giant sticks up in the air with their $600 iphones attached to them at a Drake concert? I propose a banning of Selfie Sticks throughout the nation. Who’s with me?! But, I digress. Now of course, there are always exceptions. A Selfie Stick, in which you, yourself, are not holding, but merely acting as an innocent bystander — I mean victim — of this horrendous display of what our society has become, is looked past. We can then move forward to reading your sad attempt at an “About Me” description.