Do You Like Me?

I'm fantastic at reading people. I enjoy it. I love to listen and support and analyze and I just, plain and simple, love people (mostly). I, however, cannot master reading what people think of me. I have a lot of anxiety and expectations of myself and this ridiculous notion that if I am not your ABSOLUTE favorite person on this Earth, I'm your least.

I have this complex where I feel like when people meet me, they see all the flaws I know to exist within myself. They think I act to young and silly, they think I'm unattractive and full of myself, they think I'm unintelligent and lazy, they think I'm to judgmental and cold. Or they just plain don't like me. I think I'm pretty good at first impressions- seeming confident, established and kind- but after that, it's all a big ol' downward spiral. In an attempt to please everyone, I kind of lose sight of the big picture. Who am I and what do I want to convey about myself? I have no idea! Who I am is rather jumbled and kind of terrified and mostly exhausted.

I feel like a grown-brat sometimes because I realize in a group setting, if I don't feel acknowledged and noticed (enough), I feel invisible and upset with everyone else for not liking me or including me. Someone can tell me an hour prior that they love all sorts of things about me and that I'm their favorite person to be around and I'll still end up unsure that they even really enjoy seeing me. I get anxious seeing even my closest of friends! I always show up 10 minutes late, kind of frazzled and apologetic and I just wish it wasn't super clingy and needy to ask at the beginning of every get together "Do you still like me?" Because I have no idea.

I've lost so many friends and relationships as of late and it always ends with the other person choosing to leave me. Why is that? What do I do? Why am I so unlikable? Am I mean?....Insensitive......Not funny? Am I not worth a friendship? These are things I wish I could mash up into a survey and have everyone answer on a daily basis. It would be rather helpful.

Just Don't Call Me Beautiful

So I'm single and I'm officially learning how to mingle. Mind you, I'm not typically a mingler...or single so I'm in the land of scary and unknown. Or maybe just different....

I envision it like this: 

So here I am in the jungle, stomping around with my "Hey, I'm not trying to be in a committed relationship" machete of bullshit and my "I can totally be casual and cool and flirty and non emotional" survival pack and, dude, I'm pretty sure I've been nearly eaten by tigers like.....three fucking times already. When I first started this single+mingle thing, I was originally in the jungle sauntering around like some sort of Angelina Jolie super-star, somehow managing to sport lipgloss and perfect hair as I nonchalantly fended off...mummies and snakes and all sorts of other terrible shit and.....well basically I've never seen Tomb Raider and mummies don't live in jungles but I was kicking ass at being single. And then I wasn't. 

I did the dating thing and it was pretty amazing to feel wanted and sought after and beautiful and I felt like, all of the sudden, I was fixed. No more feeling ugly, no more feeling unlovable, no more feeling like I'll never find someone who can "deal" with me and my problems. I was desirable and I was a downright catch! Who knew?! But then, as I always do, I got attached to some people, I got overwhelmed by the positive attention, I said the wrong things, I felt really guilty, I made people upset, some voice in my head was calling me a whore for dating, people realized they actually didn't really like my personality all that much, or worse, people realized they did like me. What's this? You want to date me? You want to be in a committed relationship? Oh, no no no....I'm still...somewhat....newly single and feeling pretty gimpy from my last relationship and I don't think I can put myself back in the meat grinder of punishment that is "love" and "monogamy" just yet. And also, million dollar question: why would you want to date ME? Think about it.

So I'm trying the casual dating thing and things are fine and fun and lighthearted and I'm in bed with this man I've been seeing.......And that's been going all fine and dandy, and then mid-deed, out comes the dreaded phrase. "You're beautiful." 

IN WHAT ALTERNATE UNIVERSE DO YOU THINK IT'S APPROPRIATE TO CALL ME BEAUTIFUL MID-SEX?! What a turn-off, right? 

So, I'm pretty sure I made it out of there faster than a Kenyan can run a 100 meter dash. I'm pretty sure I maybe yelled at him? I'm definitely sure I cried the whole car-ride home. I'm 100% certain I was a total jerk and very mystifying, as all he was guilty of was being super sweet, super understanding, and maybe not quite as fast as a Kenyan runner. This poor boy, right? 

Okay, let me explain to those of you who may be confused. Every woman loves to hear she's beautiful. That's she's pretty. That she's sexy. And that she's loved. Basic ladies 101 right? Wrong! In theory, I eat that stuff up. It's really cute and I love to know when you're attracted to me but, believe it or not, it sounds and feels like an insult when we're really close and I like you. I feel like you're trying to trick me into feeling better about myself, when in reality, you don't think I'm all that great at all. You just feel badly for me and my hideousness. Just don't call me beautiful. (But really, please do. Just be prepared for tears and yelling and me storming out of your house/a restaurant/me kicking you out of my house.) I'm pretty sure this kind of reaction is totally common for those of us who have been through any kind of abuse, sexual abuse, or just shitty ass relationships. 

Oh, intimacy, we're not quite friends yet.....

Triggers

For those of you who don't know, abuse victims have things called "triggers. They're moments, phrases, smells, and actions that 'trigger' horrible terrible awful memories and visceral reactions. Sometimes they bring flashbacks but most of the time they just make us feel....really gross and upset. I have several.

This is for those of you who have requested a formal list of no-no's around Tara.

-Baths. I don't want to talk about them. I don't want to hear about them. I certainly don't want to have one.

-Dirty bathrooms. Can't deal.

-That weird moisture in the air after a bath/shower mixed with cold....cold air...cold water....no.

-Don't joke about me being dirty, not having showered, being smelly, or anything closely related.

-Puking and gagging noises. Also cannot deal. Obviously if you have to throw up, I totally understand, but don't make joke-gagging noises, don't show me "funny vomit" videos, and please try not to drink excessively then vomit on me. Bad memories will be had.

-Messiness. Again, obviously, your house your rules and I'm not OCD or anything but....I can't handle excessively dirty or messy spaces.

-Female on female aggression. If it's in person, if it's in a video, if it's on TV- I don't want to hear or see it. I don't mean to say if you're female and you're in a fight with another female and you need help, I won't help you (because I will be the first to get in there and save you!) but please just don't make me sit there and watch something violent with you. It's not okay. Please just respect that I can't deal.

-Sex scenes that are non consensual, violent, or unhappy. Only happy romantic sex can be had.

-Rape. Rape jokes. "Rape" being used as a term in place of something that IS NOT RAPE. You're not funny. You're not cool. I don't like you more for making your witty little rape jokes.

-Don't joke about threesomes with me.

-Don't joke about "dominating" me, me being "kinky," or making me do anything even kind of sexual.

-Don't ever use the word "squeal" around me.

- Don't call me selfish unless you really genuinely feel I am being selfish because it KILLS me.

- Don't call me poor, ghetto, or homeless.

-Don't joke about "licking my tears."

-Don't joke about molestation. Or incest. Ever. You guys are fucking morons if you think that's funny.

-Don't tell me how to process my emotions, tell me about how useless therapy is, or tell me to "just get over it." You just get over it. I'm a strong, intelligent woman and I will deal how I deal. You can sit there and love me or you can walk away with your unwanted advice.

-Don't speak to me like I'm an unintelligent child.

-Don't come up to me from behind. NEVER EVER playfully choke me. Never pull my hair. Never yell at me.

-No joking about cannibalism

-Never call me unlovable.

-Never just walk away from me and leave me somewhere,

-Never say "You're being just like you're mom." or "Your mom was right." Just, why would you do that?

-Never belittle my art, my blog, or things I am proud of. You don't have to like it or what I do  but there's no need to put me down.

-Don't throw, damage, or disrespect my things.

-Don't threaten to push me down stairs or escalators.

-Don't you EVER joke about suicide, slitting wrists, being emo, or being depressed.

-Don't make masturbation jokes.

-Don't make "walking in on your parents" jokes.

-Don't ever make stabbing motions at me. Never play with knives or scissors around me. Definitely NEVER threaten me with knives.

-Don't tell me I didn't "have it that bad" that I'm using my past as "a crutch" that I need to "suck it up" and that it's important not to "dwell on things." You don't know me or where I've come from well enough to be allowed to say those things.

-Don't force me to do math.

-Don't force me to read.

-Don't call me lazy, fat, chubby, chunky, or imply I lack self control when it comes to food. Just don't make fun of my work ethic or eating habits.

-Don't imply I have no friends and never say "No one likes you."

-Never tell say "just go kill yourself" around or to me.

-Don't make fat people + sexual jokes

-Don't make sex noises

-Don't imply having sex with me would be a horrible thing or in any way shape or form a "chore"

-Don't give me a gift then expect some huge reaction and gesture in return....then get upset when my reaction is wrong......the whole gift process terrifies me and overwhelms me as it is

-Do not take my food without asking. Sharing is hard for me and it's not funny.

.....there's more I'm sure......

Peanut

Growing up, I didn't really have friends. I lived in the Country Club where it was more important to be wearing the right shoes than to be caring for the right people. Ambulances, cop cars, and firetrucks were always over at my house either scooping my mom up pawning her right back off on us and my family was just a big embarrassment. Not to me but to the "Country Club." People talked about our family and my mom all the time and speculated about what was wrong but the consensus was "Stay away from that family and stay away from Tara." I didn't help my case much, either. I never did very well in school, I cheated a lot on math tests, and I faked my way through most of my homework. I was what they call "the class clown" and people looooved my sense of humor until I went one joke too far, as I always did, and people realized I was one big awkward try hard who always managed to piss off the teacher. It'd be the same thing every year- I'd be exceedingly polite and intelligent and helpful in class, I'd do the best on all my projects and turn all my homework in on time. Teachers would EAT ME UP! It was the best. As stuff would progressively get worse at home, as they always did, I would get progressively more flakey in class. I'd bond more with the teacher, associate them more as my parental figure, and the lines would always get blurred for me, as they still do. I'd assume because the teachers loved ME so much and treated specifically ME so kindly, that we had this special "bond." Because I didn't have the bonds at home I so desperately wanted, I tried to make them with my teachers...with my friend's parents.....with any adult figure I could bump into and show I could be lovable too. I'd always get myself into trouble because I'd get too chummy, cross some boundary and make some joke that was too familiar, and end up on yet another persons' shit list.

Besides my lack of social graces, my mom was out there waving our "We're not normal!" flag all too loudly for me to even stand a chance. I remember all the awkward inappropriate moments at school where I would realize....at home I can at least keep this hidden and pretend like home is okay but when you come to school and show everyone just how not okay we are, I'm just fucked. Back to School Night was just a nightmare for me. My mom would show up drunk and spill drinks on people. She'd walk around telling my friends' moms to "be careful" because I was a lesbian and she was "worried" for their daughters. For the record, I was not a lesbian in the third grade, and am still not a lesbian now... She'd talk about how awful my dad was, how he never made enough money. She'd just sit there and immaculate him. She'd talk about what an ungrateful child I was or my sister was  and how she wished she had miscarried me or "kept her legs shut" or how AMAZING I was and what I blessing I ended up being. How I was the only child she really liked. It's a wonder I'm not more confused about my identity than I already am. I could go on and on about all the mommy-faux-pas my mom made (which I do) but the point I try to make is she gave me LITERALLY absolutely no tools to understand what it means to make and maintain relationships, what it means to value yourself, what it looks like to be loved in a healthy unconditional way.....just nothing.

Because all my friends' moms thought I was either a lesbian, incredibly disturbed, or had a highly dysfunctional family (which was accurate), I spent a lot of time by myself. I drew a lot, played with blocks, watched a whole lot of Little Bear (my ideal family model) and snuggled Peanut- my blue stuffed Elephant. I don't know why he's my favorite or why he stuck because I had precisely two other favorite stuffed animals- one's name was Bun-Bun (a skinny white rabbit with floppy ears my mom bought me from Goodwill) and Angel Bear. Angel Bear is something I really really wish I still had because it's just so symbolic and indicative of my relationship with my mother. My mom, obviously, had a drinking problem, and would not only forget to pick me up from school, but would be too busy getting her drank on and listening to our sweet ass Bose system to realize I had walked myself home (at age five) and was waiting on the front doorstep....just ringing the doorbell over and over again, going, "Mommy? Are you okay? I'm home." And I would sit. And wait. For hours. I tell this story over and over again in person and on my blog because this image of this little sweet five year old girl with, sitting on her front doorstep, locked out, waiting for her mom to remember she exists long enough to let her in is so burned into my head. I just don't understand......I watch children for a living and I could never.....just ever put someone through that. In any case, she realized when sober one day, that she had maybe locked little five year old me out one too many times for it to go unnoticed so she bought me this bear named Angel Bear and I remember every time my mom would get far too plastered and end up in the hospital and every time my mom would get far too plastered and would end up ripping my room apart and calling me selfish and ugly and unwanted and unlovable....I would just cling to this stupid little bear like it meant my mom didn't mean any of it. That she really actually loved me. Honestly, my mom can go die in a fire. I think after a certain point, my mom had passed this boundary with me where something snapped inside and I had no more unconditional love to offer her because she had never offered me any. I used to give and give and give and love just hoping she'd love herself one day but no child can give faith in yourself. You have to be strong enough to give it to yourself. You have to be selfless enough. I think I started to understand and resent my mom for all that she wasn't and therefore resent this little bear. Child logic, I know.

Peanut, my blue elephant, is not my original Peanut. Peanut 1.0 was lost at a concert I went to- my dad's concert. It was kind of a fond memory. I went with my dad to watch him play drums in downtown San Jose at the convention center and I remember just sitting there in the front row in my little dress with my little pigtails, a coloring book, crayons, a purse, and Peanut. When the concert was over, I got up to go see my dad and we walked around. I didn't realize you were supposed to take your things with you when you left your spot and so all my things were stolen. I was distraught. My dad stayed for maybe an extra hour just to look and look and look for Peanut and I remember feeling really....looked after and defended when my dad put that effort in. He and my mom got me a replacement Peanut a few weeks later.....Peanut 2.0.

Peanut, as I often say, is my ideal parent. Actually, he's the closest thing I have TO a parent (don't judge.) He loves me, he listens when I cry, and he just snuggles. There are so many memories I have of just horrendous, not okay things happening at home where I would get yelled at, or assaulted, or punished for absolutely no reason other than "Mommy's an alcoholic and mommy and daddy have a dysfunctional dynamic where you get pit against us and your siblings" and I would just go to my room, shut and lock the door, and cry into Peanut and he was basically all that I had to rely on. Peanut is the one rock I have had in my life and I love him like he's people. It's pretty ridiculous.

Peanut now gives me relationship advice, sits with me when I NEED to eat ice cream, comes with me in the car and sits in the passenger seat when I'm having a rough day, and sleeps with me every night. He also makes appearances at close friends houses. If I love you, you've met Peanut.

11 Rules When Trying to Date a Woman

Okay, boys, I'm going to help you out. I've seen what you've had to offer when it comes to trying to woo a woman and it's pretty fucking appalling. If you're looking to get legitimate with a lady, please read on. Girls, I know you know what I'm talking about.

Rule # 1) When you meet a girl and realize she's all that and a bag of chips, DON'T FUCK AROUND. Don't text her a bunch of nothing every few days. Don't make fun of her in hopes that she'll respond like a 12 year old, tease you too, then tell you she likes you back. Don't try and make her jealous by telling her about all these other girls you're talking to/who you have boned/who want to bone you. Basically, don't leave that bitch unattended. In the real, adult, world- we ask for her number, we CALL her that day, we make plans ON A WEEKEND (not a weekday, because you're going to set legitimate time aside for her and show her some respect) and we follow through.

Rule # 2) Come with good intentions. Don't be acting like you're genuinely interested in what this girl has to offer if all you want from her is a physical relationship. You're better off telling her right off the bat that that's all that you want otherwise she may just cut your dick off when she falls for you and finds out you weren't at all invested.

Rule # 3) Be attentive. Just be mother fucking attentive! Listen to her likes, her dislikes, and do and act on what you've learned. She says she loves foreign films? Take her to one. She said she loves to visit San Fran and she also loves chocolate? Take that bitch to a San Franciscan chocolate shop! People, it's not hard to please a woman. You just have to be listening and care enough to deliver.

Rule # 4) Be around. I cannot tell you how much this bothers me. If you say you're interested, if you say you want to take me on a date- act like it. Make plans with me, follow through, and be around consistently. I would say there's at least an "every other day" rule for this when you're just getting to know a girl. Call her and talk to her for a while, go grab coffee real quick together, go on a morning run together, bring her bagels! Avoid late night contact....which brings me to rule number 5.

Rule #5) Don't call me/text me/FB message me past 8PM if we don't have an established comfortable relationship and you haven't talked to me all day. Just don't. I know what you're doing. I see what you're trying to get. Don't pull the "I'm busy during the day" or "You seem so busy I didn't want to bother you" bullshit card out on me. I'm 20 and I have a smartphone...it's attached to my hand and I'm pretty sure your phone is attached to yours. Contact me at a decent hour and remember I exist during the day because if you only remember I exist at night time, you're thinking you can put me on your booty call list and you cannot.

Rule # 6) Don't get me stuffed animals unless we go to a carnival together. I don't want it. I don't understand it. Yes, I have a stuffed animal. One. I have one for a reason- it's special. I'm not five- I'm a grown ass woman. How about you try flowers next time?

Rule # 7) Be a gentleman. No, better yet, be a MAN. You WILL open doors for me, let me order first, ask me if I'm cold, offer me a drink when I come over, and walk outside of me closest to the cars because that's what you'll do. I'm all for going dutch in relationships but the first three dates- you pay. If it's a crazy expensive adventurous date and you're not rolling in dough- you go dutch for the activities but you pay for the meal. We're adults and you have a job. You have a job..... right?

Rule #8) Be polite not only to your new lady friend but to the people you interact with. This includes strangers, waiters, cab drivers, her friends, your friends...and just everyone, okay? You don't need to chat it up with everyone everywhere you go, but you do need to show that you're a kind, gentle, good person. No woman wants to date someone who's an asshole. It's embarrassing and I don't want to be seen with you.

Rule #9) Always bring her up, never down. It's not okay to poke fun at, tease, raz, or pick on your potential girlfriend. It's not a good sign. She may laugh, it may be fun sometimes, but at some point you're going to say something that strikes a nerve and it's going to be bad. Or, heaven forbid, she gets into the whole teasing thing and she says something  YOU don't like. Establish a foundation of trust and respect before you start going at each other, please. A woman wants to hear what you love about her, not what you hate. She deserves that, don't you think?

Rule #10) Kiss her! Don't friend zone yourself. If you go on a real date with her (you called in advance during the day, you asked her to go out on a Friday Saturday or Sunday, you dressed appropriately, you paid, and you had a fabulous time) then chances are she's hoping for an end-of-date kiss before you friend zone yourself. Kisses (and lack there of) are indicative of how you'll be with her. Make it tender, strong, don't linger too long, and for god's sake...don't make it sloppy. Girls like to be romanced- that doesn't mean stay away, that means respect my boundaries and read the signals I'm putting out. Guys always make the first move. It's nice and masculine.

Rule #11) Share. Share your life with her, tell her about you and what you love. Talk about your family, your goals, your dreams. Just share. If you two are compatible, she'll only like you more. I don't want to go into a date feeling like it's a one-woman-show and I've spilled my guts and still know nothing about you. It makes me feel like you don't want to share and you're planning an escape route as I speak.

How Women Perceive Women

I'm not the warmest or the kindest or the most thoughtful. I'm certainly not the most compassionate or the most aware or even the most patient but I'm becoming much more aware of the bad habits we have as women. Because of my recent breakup, I feel like I've entered a new "era." A more confident era. I now realize that I am in fact an attractive woman and I do actually have desirable qualities. I'm strong, I work hard, I'm charming, I'm beautiful, and I try my best to try my best. It's easier to see those things as a single person. Being confident is great and super handy for attracting boys! It's not so great for making and maintaining female relationships....especially at my age. I'm very conscious of how I portray myself. I try my best not to come across as cocky, full of myself, down on myself, too lighthearted, too Debbie-Downer, too materialistic, too deep, too kind, or too harsh. Sometimes, it gets overwhelming and difficult to just "be." I'm sure a lot of women feel this way! It's hard to be honest with people and be able to say "I feel beautiful most of the time, ugly a lot of the time, proud of myself most days, and ashamed some days. I'm happy a lot and I'm sad a lot and I just feel overwhelmed but I fight each and every day." I find that most people don't know how to take me. People like to label me as "too sensitive" or flighty or "dark" but I don't feel like any of those are accurate assessments.

 I'm realizing that women receive me better when I'm in a more sad and less confident place. Men receive me better when I'm in a more confident, happy place. This is because happiness is attractive, I think, and the more happy and confident I become, the more attracted men are to me. But unfortunately, even though I try my very hardest NOT to make life a competition and come across as threatening or as if I'm trying to one up my female friends, several women perceive me very negatively now that I feel and behave more confidently. Having girlfriends is important and I need and love them. I love to be that friend who takes you in, supports you, makes you cookies when you're sad, and celebrates you when you're happy. I just love to be the best friend that I can be but I think my excessive effort combined with the way that everyone else perceives my very positive-go-getter-attitude I wear most days tends to scare my girlfriends away? Maybe I'm too honest? Too complimentary? Not attentive enough? Maybe I'm TOO attentive? Maybe I actually do act very competitively? I've admitted on more than one occasion to feeling threatened by my fellow lady-friends. I feel like I'd rather hear someone tell me they feel a little threatened and intimidated (which they shouldn't at all!) then have them just start treating me nastily and throwing me under the bus. I've been getting thrown under the bus a lot lately.

I also think it's really interesting how a few minor changes in appearance totally alters the way strangers treat me. When I go out in glasses, flats, and jeans, people either ignore me or treat me pleasantly. When I'm out in a dress, heels, and my new crazy hairstyle people just flip out on me. Guys are more aggressive and complimentary (of course), girls I don't even know and haven't even made eye contact with will say just AWFUL things about me and I understand the whole dynamic- you're all just saying I look nice today and it makes you uncomfortable. But can we all just be nice and be big enough to say to people, even if they're strangers "You look really amazing today!" instead of "Oh god...here comes Miss America -____-"? I have feelings. I get hurt by what you say and how you perceive me and I think YOU look nice today. I just want to be friends.

I think as women, we need to learn to be more direct. If I don't like you, I'll try to tell you in the most straightforward, non-manipulative way I know how and see if we can improve upon our situation. If I think you're beautiful and just have it going on and you make me feel maybe less than beautiful when I'm around you- I'm going to try to remind myself I'm gorgeous and I have it going on too and treat you with respect and admiration. I'm not going to call you nasty names, randomly disappear on you, and make snide remarks about you to your friends while you're in the room. We owe it to each other to support one another. If you can't do that, please step away.

Respect

I'm trying to get better about establishing a set of boundaries for not only myself but with the people I choose to surround myself because I'm realizing it's really important to promote general feelings of respect consistently with people. I feel like when you say self deprecating things about yourself in front of other people or you allow people to insult you or push your boundaries all in "good fun" it gets out of hand way too fast. I love my friends but we're 20 and they just don't seem to understand sometimes that when I say "No, that jokes not okay around me," or "No, it's not okay to make those gestures and play around with me in that way," I really truly mean it. And no, it's not me being sensitive, it's me being self aware and setting boundaries because I respect my boundaries and I respect you enough (for now) to tell you to please stop and alter your behavior when you're around me. It gets difficult because I really would hate nothing more than to make people feel like they have to walk on eggshells with me but unfortunately, sometimes they do, because I am sensitive and I do have unique triggers and you do need to treat me a little differently than you may treat some of your other friends. I try to be as easy going, direct, and forgiving as I possibly can be. I also try to be as consistent as I know how to be. If it's not okay with me today, I'm not going to laugh it off tomorrow. If I'm joking about it today, I'm not going to tell you it's off limits next week. Well.....no guarantees, but I try to be conscious of it and stick to what I say.

Another set of boundaries that I feel is important to set as a woman is the way people view and refer to me physically. My past relationship had several issues, many of them my fault, but one I'm still working  through is the way I was treated and viewed physically. It wasn't okay and I wasn't respected and never again will I put myself in a position where I allow disrespect like that to go on. When you have a partner, it's important to remember that they are there to support and love and prioritize you. No, you're not they're "world" but you are a large, important chunk of it and if they don't treat you like you deserve to play that role, then they don't deserve to be a part of your world anymore either. I still wrestle with how I am supposed to view myself physically because it's a balance of being honest about what you can improve upon and whether or not you find it important to be a certain size or look a certain way and then just loving who you are and what you look like naturally, without an agonizing amount of effort. To be honest, having gained weight in my past relationship single handedly ruined my already damaged self esteem. Not because I felt bigger and less attractive (though that is true) but because my then boyfriend essentially refused to be physical with me and couldn't see or love me the way he used to. All because I gained 15 pounds. For 15 pounds to ruin and rule such a huge chunk of my life....it's just upsetting and I don't even understand to this day- why was the effort I put in trying to eat healthier and go to the gym more often not enough for him? Not enough for me?

I got to the point where I would sneak food, have to justify my rationale in deciding to buy a chocolate bar or a burger or some hot cheetos on a weekday when I hadn't even gone to the gym, where I would have to remind him we handn't been physically intimate in over a month...yet again...and that I promised if he paid more attention I'd go to the gym more. He'd nit pick my eating habits in public, praise me like a child when I chose to forgo the shake I so wanted with my burger, stare at me in dismay when I'd get dressed, and grab my sides the morning after a workout to see if I'd gotten smaller. I couldn't breathe in my own home and I couldn't feel okay. I certainly couldn't feel beautiful or wanted. It breaks my heart even now, not just for myself, but for women who go through having to feel this kind of pressure. You know what, I'm single and I eat french fries at two in the morning and some weeks I go without even seeing a piece of fruit and I go to the gym pretty often but that's because I enjoy it...not because I feel obligated to go! Yes, I would like to eat healthier, but I feel beautiful almost constantly and that wasn't true for my relationship days and I don't think that's a testament to my then-partner's character, but a testament to the treatment I allowed. I have a rule for people now- You're not allowed to comment on my weight, what I eat, how often I eat, what kind of workouts you think I should do, or whether you think I've gained or lost weight. You can call me beautiful, or you can get out. I deserve respect and appreciation because I work way too hard on myself to let you try and bring me down or make me feel like less than what I am.

Ladies, please demand respect, love, and support. You deserve the world.

Loss

I've experienced a lot of loss in the past few months. I've lost my home, my relationship, my best friend, and the future I had planned for myself. I feel that I am adjusting really well and I do get through each and every day as best I can without seeming down but I'm really struggling and I just come away feeling so lost at sea. It's really honestly so tough being this island- being my own pillar of strength. I don't have parents to fall back on, siblings to relate to, a boyfriend to make a home for me, or even really a close knit set of friends yet. It's all a process, and I get that. But damn it if I didn't get dealt a process far more complex and trying than other people have been dealt.

I start my days feeling overwhelmed and unsure about what my next move will be. What it has to be. Being financially independent is terrifying. Not knowing how long you'll be able to feed yourself, worrying that life will always be as difficult as it is now- that you're not strong enough or even hard working enough to get to the next stage in life....worrying that everyone views you as "poor" or fiscally irresponsible or just sad. I get so frustrated even talking to some people my age when they tell me about the struggles the face, I'm just so envious. I'd kill to have parents to argue with over what classes I should be taking. I'd kill to have parents who even took an interest in where I was and how I was doing and what my plans for the future are! I'd kill to not have to worry about how I'm going to pay for health insurance and what I'd do if my car broke down and how am I going to pay for school next semester? I feel so much pressure...all the time. I also am now very aware, being single, how much better people respond to you if you seem like you have EVERYTHING covered and handled and you have a smile on your face. I've got this "I've got it" attitude down to a T and when you're around me, I'm fun, I'm happy, I'm lighthearted, and I am as easygoing as I can possibly be because I've realized in order for people to receive me and take me in and be able to process me- I need to come without baggage. And unfortunately, when people get to know me, they perceive me as someone with a ton of unwanted baggage.

Being thrown into the dating world is totally fun and totally heartbreaking. I see reflections of myself over and over again in all these interested prospects. I like some of what I see, and hate most of everything else I see. I realize now that people actually do perceive me as very attractive (for the most part) which is great and has helped to heal some of my wounds from my past relationship but I also see and hear a lot of what I've been hearing and seeing throughout most of my life. People fall in love with the idea of me and the idea of "rescuing" me. People with dysfunction in their own family fall for my own dysfunction and the way I mistreat them. I make people walk on eggshells and feel nervous and afraid constantly, worrying the next thing they say might set me off, hurt me, or anger me. People feel like relationships with me are one sided- that I never really give, I am very closed off, and can be exceedingly critical considering how sensitive I am. People realize after the initial intrigue- seeing that I'm attractive, I put effort into myself and my appearance, that I work hard, that I'm mysterious and that I'm a real serious fighter- that despite all of my great qualities, I still do indeed come with a lot of baggage. Too much baggage for people my age or without colored pasts to handle. I want to be perceived as warm and strong and understanding and consistent but so far, all I've got down is the "strong" part. In being exposed to the dating world and new interactions, I've realized that I still feel like I'm just too much for one person to handle....for someone to want to handle. I still feel like a burden and an imposition and it's frustrating because I want love. I just don't feel like I'm quite at a place where I would know what to do with it or would deserve it just yet. And that's a very sad reality to sit with.

Having lost so many loved ones and what I associated with "home" all at once only makes me feel like I've done something to push away what I want and need and I'm very frustrated with myself. I'm also frustrated with the people I chose to surround myself with.

Every day I try to try a little harder but it's a definite uphill battle and life gets tough when there's no one to truly share with who understands and experiences what you experience.

Qualities

   As a newly single lady, I’m experiencing an overflow of offers! Relationship offers. (And lewd, sleazy comments.) You’d think I’d be flattered and encouraged about the dating world I now get to experience but I’m really just overwhelmed and almost discouraged. I get in this way, where I can’t get past the initial excitement of “Oh my god, someone is interested in ME? I better reciprocate; this doesn’t tend to happen for me. Really, who would be interested in these damaged goods?” It’s really a terrible way to do things. That’s why that’s not how I’m doing things anymore.

   I keep telling myself “Don’t accept scraps!” I’m not damaged goods. I’m just complex. Wise for my age, even. Just because someone is interested in me or has some qualities I love (and some I don’t) doesn’t mean I need to jump right in and accept something or someone who is less than right for me. Damn it, I deserve the whole package and so does my future partner! Besides, I’m newly single and I really need a serious relationship like a hole in the head….That is why I am making a list of the qualities I want in a partner. A list of requirements, if you will. I think we all have one but it’s hard to be honest and admit, “Hey. I want and expect a lot out of my partner to be.” This is someone you’ll be spending an awful lot of time with. Someone you’re trusting your heart with! You better be honest with yourself BEFORE you start dating, instead of several years in. If you only want a man with blue eyes, loves dogs, and never wants children, then you better find someone who meets those qualifications. A relationship is a two way street and you know to put your best foot forward. You should always want and expect a lot of yourself. Why not find someone who expects the same things of themselves?

   Sure my list is insanely specific and asking a lot of a person but am I in a hurry to find another person? No. I should be working on completing myself and being my OWN support system. Relationships are supposed to add to your life, not BE your life. Should I come across someone, though, you better believe I’m making sure they have the qualities I’m looking for because settling does not make for a happy future.

   I’m looking for a man who is kind and generous and thoughtful and patient. A man with depth and an understanding of what it means to struggle and pull through. I’m looking for a man who absolutely loves kids, can enjoy Disneyland trips with me, and likes to watch the occasional cartoon or two. Must have delicious arms and a cute butt. I’m looking for someone who can make me laugh but who doesn’t make jokes at other people’s expense. I’m looking for an intelligent man who doesn’t need to remind everyone just how smart he really is. I’m looking for someone who’s not too big on politics but keeps up. He must be pro gay marriage, not “grossed out” by RuPaul’s Drag Race, and is pro choice. He’s got to have his shit together. He must have a passion, be passionate, and be somewhat creative. He’s got to love driving around with loud music and the windows down. Must love dancing with me.  He’s got to be totally masculine! Must love hitting the gym and knows how to eat healthy, but not too healthy! He’s got to be thoughtful enough to occasionally see romantic movies with me, surprise me with flowers and love letters, and he absolutely must love Christmas. Must be down to earth. He’s got to be a snappy dresser and at least 5’10”! Must respect women. He’s got to call me on my shit in a way that makes me both more aware of my behavior, and more comfortable in my relationship. He’s got to be a decent communicator. Must be a bit of a foodie, or at least not at all a picky eater! He’s got to love being goofy and serious. He’s got to be faithful, respectful, nurturing, and insightful. Must love animals! He’s got to love my quirkiness and be beyond proud of the woman I am. He’s got to think I’m a fox and know that I work hard on myself. He’s got to appreciate me and know that I appreciate him. He’s got to be my partner. Must love sweets! Must enjoy Indian food and ethnic food in general. Must be spontaneous but also extremely consistent. Must have time to be in a relationship! Has to love cuddling and falling asleep together. Has to like the way I look with and without makeup and cute outfits. He has to treat me like an adult. Most importantly, he’s got to be loving. 

Love and Companionship

   I recently went through a breakup. It wasn’t at all how I imagine breakups to be. We’d been together for two and a half years, we were bonded like family, we lived together, and we definitely looked like a happy couple. He was sweet, intelligent, creative, thoughtful, and had substance. I’d like to list MY positive qualities when it came to me as a partner, but I can’t think of many. I go back and try to figure out- at which point did things start going poorly? Unfortunately, I’ve come to the conclusion that, separately, we are two great people, but together- as we are now- we’re terrible together. I was jealous of his loving and supportive family, how “easy” he had it, and how “figured out” his life was. I was resentful and angry and just plain unsupportive.

   One of the last things he said to me before we realized things weren’t going to get better was, “You’re the most selfish, unsupportive person I know. No…wait…..I take that back. You’re giving and supportive towards everyone else BUT me and you’re supposed to love me.” Major ouch. Hurtful but true! Damn coping mechanisms.

   I think, more than anything, I was crushed to be told I was less than perfect. I thought I had been so loving, supportive, and available.  It hurts to admit defeat and walk away from someone you told yourself and everyone else you wanted to spend your life with. It hurt worse to walk away from the one person who promised me love and companionship. I wouldn’t take back my relationship or do things differently. I loved living with him, sharing moments with him, and having an adventure. We learned an incredible amount about ourselves and I’m genuinely grateful for the lessons I’ve learned and the stability and kindness he provided for me.

   I realize now, in hindsight, I don’t fall in love with people- I fall in love with the fact that someone loves me. I also realize now, that’s not at all what I want and that’s not what I, or my future partner, deserves. When you come from a place of feeling just shocked that any person could love YOU and like YOU, it makes it hard to step back and think, “Can this person really give me what I want and need? Are we truly compatible?” You accept what is given to you because you just can’t get over how good it feels to finally have some positive attention and affection. I’m learning now how to separate what feels like love and what is actually just companionship.  I’m also realizing that being selfish and jealous and hurtful, just because you hurt and have been hurt by your partner doesn’t fly. I’m excited to focus on what it feels like to be me and to discover who I am and what I really like. It’s great to be in a position where you can ask yourself: What do I want

The "Fuck Off" Face

  You're on your way to go grab some milk from your local 7 Eleven or whatever, you're minding your own business, and this guy from out of nowhere "hollers" at you and makes some cliche, not very well thought out comment about how good you be lookin'. First response: ew. Your messy ghetto/hipster look does not impress, I don't want to be bothered, and I'm just hoping you don't follow me for the next several blocks. You shoot him the "fuck off" face, as I like to call it. Second response: I'm feeling pret-ty swanky-sexy right now. I DO look good. This turned out to be a pretty swell day, excuse me while I post some chipper, douchey, self centered Facebook status about how fly I am. Third response: Do I look good? Was hipster man trying to be ironic? Do I have something on my face?! Perhaps spandex leggings AREN'T my thing!? Excuse me while I go hide and feel embarrassed about how excited I just was. 

   I don't know about you but I pull the fuck-off face out pretty often and I find myself feeling like an ass. One- some of the compliments are totally harmless and quite frankly very sweet, and yet I still find the need to be a I'm-too-good jerk to the randoms. Two-the fuck off face is only to be used on the boys who shout obscene pickup lines out of moving vehicles! Why the face?! Why feel so conflicted, offended, flattered, and hurt by what was probably a 5 second interaction? 

 

   I don't know if this is common for all the ladies out there, or just the ones who find themselves feeling pretty down on themselves but I wonder- why can't we just feel good about ourselves and take a compliment? Obviously, creeper comments coming from creeper men don't merit a silent happy dance, but sometimes, guys really are just trying to be nice (and flirty). I think my response to harmless hit-on-ery generally indicates how I feel about myself. If I feel straight up offended and like I'm being made fun of, I feel hideous and don't really value myself. If I feel conflicted- flattered and skeptical- then I'm pretty much in limbo with myself. If I just feel like the bees' knees the rest of the day, I feel pretty good about myself and very comfortable with where I'm at- not just physically but emotionally too. 

   Ladies, show of hands, how often do you whip out the "fuck off" face?

A Different Stage of Life

   I've lived in Boston for about five months now and I can count the number of friends I've made on zero hands. I recognize moving across country means it takes a while to make friends but the light at the end of the ever-growing tunnel: I'm not seeing it.
    I've been kind of staying away from the whole blogging world for a couple of reasons. Reason number one being- I'm pretty sure my parents know about my blog and I kind of sit around and wait for the bomb to drop- that day when I get a scathing email about how selfish and deceitful and unsuccessful I am. Reason number two being- I have not found any work. True, I haven't been as aggressive on the job hunt front as I should be (my flyers I had printed out a few months ago are sitting in my cabinet next to my box of unopened business cards). But I've had interviews, I've applied to literally hundreds of childcare positions (as well as retail/interior design/random craigslist positions) and nothing. It's discouraging. I'm discouraged because I don't understand- is it my age? Is it the way I come across online or maybe in person? Did I wear the wrong things? Am I too fat? Did I wear too much makeup or maybe not enough? Do I come across awkward or bad with kids? Are my references saying bad things about me without me knowing? Maybe they're reading my blog.
   So I stopped blogging. I set everything to all the "private settings" I'm aware of, I took my name out of the blog title/URL/actual blog and I just don't understand. And if they ARE reading the blog-well...I'm super discouraged about myself and the way people perceive things like sexual abuse and less than shiny backgrounds. Nowhere in my blog do I talk about me getting shit faced, or going out and somehow physically assaulting some random people, and I certainly don't post pictures of me eating babies. I enjoy working with children- I've worked with children in the past and I'd like to say that I did a great job, and I feel like I'm responsible. This whole -not getting hired- thing eats me up inside. I feel like somehow, people perceive me as a monster. Like, because I was sexually abused or because I had an alcoholic parent or because I openly express that sometimes- life is a battle: I'm just super abnormal or a handful or potentially a future abuser. It literally brings me to tears.
   I'm about to come across as ignorant or like I watch too much TV but why is it that gay marriage and teen pregnancies and mega-assholes like kids from the Jersey Shore can be accepted and talked about casually but being the survivor of sexual abuse or rape is totally taboo and awkward? I don't understand why I am the one being judged- being penalized- for just happening to have been through this thing. I feel like if someone says, "My dad used to beat me and my parents are divorced," all they'll get is support and sympathy (as they should) but I feel like when you say, "My mom sexually abused me and my parents are (or are not) still together," it's a whole different story. First of all, nobody knows what to do with that. Understandable. It's a FANTASTIC thing if you can't relate! But the thing that really upsets me is that people start assuming all of these things about you- she must be making it up, or....she doesn't understand what sexual abuse actually is, or she must be really wounded and damaged and weird, or my favorite: I can't trust my children around her.
   So. The job hunt continues I guess. The holidays just passed and I have to say- we have a love hate relationship. I approach Christmas like you would approach hand juicing an orange. I just try to squeeze every last ounce of Christmas-joy out of December as I can. I bake cookies, I buy the perfect tree, I make spiced cider, I light candles, I shop for the perfect gifts and the perfect wrapping paper and I cook cozy meals. Christmas doesn't love me back though because by the time Christmas Eve rolls around, I'm a wreck. I always cry. I always feel greedy and disappointed and unloved and very much so un thought of. My gifts are never wrapped nice enough, I haven't had a chance to listen to enough Christmas music, my dinner didn't turn out well enough, my boyfriend doesn't love the holiday enough, I missed the first half of A Christmas Story, my boyfriend got more gifts than me. His parents love him more than me. His parents love him more than my parents love me (....or...at all.) There are no presents under the tree from any of my family. I didn't get a single phone call, text message, or email wishing me a "merry Christmas" or maybe asking about how I am. How I'm adjusting. Whether or not I'm doing okay financially. No care package, no Christmas letter, no "I love you, Tara." I, for some idiotic reason, half expected Ethan was in on this big Christmas plan, since Christmas was so disappointing, where my brother or my sister or my dad or all three would show up- on my doorstep, presents in hand with big smiles and an even bigger "Just kidding for the past two years, and quite possibly your whole life! We love you bunches, we know exactly what your likes and dislikes are, and we're here to celebrate your favorite holiday with you in your new home with your fabulous, well chosen boyfriend! We're so proud." Did not happen. (Of course.)
   I spent Christmas Eve evening crying...in bed...and went to bed alone, because I of course got into an argument with my boyfriend about how I didn't get the right things, didn't feel loved, and how much effort I spent all month trying to make everyone feel loved and how it felt as though no one really ever thinks to put that effort in for me. Christmas ( and birthdays) just hilight all that you don't have, in terms of family and friends and love. Luckily for me, my birthday comes just three days after Christmas! So it's like a big fun parade of sad. I think I spent the three days leading up to my birthday...also in tears, as well as pajamas. No magical arrival of family on my birthday, either.
   The combination of being new to the area, having no money and no luck with the job hunt, not attending school, and lacking supportive (or functional) family is just far more painful than I expected (and I expected it to be fairly difficult.) It's lonely. It's isolating. It's overwhelming. And it's exhausting. I feel unsuccessful, un-likable, and angry. I want to be one of those 20 year olds who's parents help pay for school or even just offer emotional support and a phone call every now and then. Someone who believes in me and who will be there. I want to be one of those 20 year olds who has friends. I at least want to not always feel that loss- that lack of a mom and a dad and siblings-aunts and uncles-cousins. To be family-less...the feeling that there's this huge void just doesn't go away. I want something to be easy....just one thing, whatever it is.

   I'm at a different stage in life than most people my age. I'm not a partier, I don't go home to see my parents and talk about my finals and annoying roommates, and I don't have people to fall back on. My idea of fun is doing something mellow and cozy, making good food, getting coffee and talking.... I just feel really old... and really young. Today, I feel homesick. But I don't know what or where I'm homesick for. I feel without roots.

Relationships: 6 Facts You Should Know About Leaving the Nest and Moving in With Your Boyfriend

   My boyfriend and I have a bit of an unusual arrangement. We live together, out of the nest, but we used to live together in "the nest" too! I often say my boyfriend is like family to me, and in a lot of ways we have kind of a sibling dynamic (don't get weirded out!) in addition to the relationship dynamic. No matter the dynamic we used to have, living together (on our own) is so different from what our lives used to be when we lived with his family! Here are some of the harsh realities of moving out from your parents' place and moving in together.

1) There is no dish fairy. NO DISH FAIRY! Shockingly, this comes as a surprise to us just about every other day. As I am typing this, I'm thinking about the fact that Ethan and I have no clean drinking glasses OR silverware to speak of. They're all covered in peanut butter, flour, and various unrecognizable leftovers. One of several benefits of living with your parents (or your boyfriend's parents) is, if you have overly loving and giving parents, that they do the dishes. Even yours! I'm talking burnt on food, mashed potatoed bowls, and numerous ice cream and hot fudge bowls. We want dish fairies.

2) Ladies, you WILL become a nagging screechy scary person. Hopefully you won't feel that way all the time- but it's a reality. Why won't you clean without me having to ask you? I asked you five times already- could you please take out the trash. I don't want your dirty socks on the bed, thrown randomly on the floor, or on the dining room table. Please put your dishes away? Remember to lock the door! Feed the cat when I'm away- I don't like dead cats. Why do you have to leave your underwear in the bathroom? Please don't brush your teeth in the shower. I don't want to know when or hear when you clip your toe nails. Don't make the bed that way. Remember to use SOAP when washing dishes, otherwise I have to go in and do them all over again! Turn off the light when you leave the room. Please flush sometimes? These are things I guarantee you will be saying.

3) Things get a lot lonelier. When you move out and on your own, even if it is with your partner, your schedules change and the adjustment can be really rough. Ethan's going to school and I'm not so I'm home long before he is...or even all day and when he gets home, sometimes all he wants to do is play some video games and chill and all I want to do is talk and cuddle and get out of the house. Or pout. Transition is always hard at first, especially when two of you are transitioning at the same time.

4) The money stuff gets more complicated. So- we live together, we're partners, but one of us has more money than the other? Well- your parents are paying for you but I'm paying for myself, and they're helping me with x,y, and z. Do I owe them a certain amount of money because I'm not their child? Do you owe them a certain amount of money because you ARE their child? Should we both work? Who writes the rent check? Who pays for cable? Who pays for furniture- do you pay for it because you're really the only one who cares what kind of curtains and mixer you have? Does that mean he pays for the TV? Well, who gets what if we break up? Oh my god- how am I going to afford moving out if we break up? Maybe I shouldn't pay for anything we share. Is he keeping tabs? Should I?

5) Dating gets harder. My boyfriend and I love each other and we enjoy each other's company but now that we spend so much concentrated time with one another and money is tight, it's harder to "date" and feel like a young couple. We often refer to our lifestyle as "living like 30 year olds" and we love it! But sometimes, I wish we were younger, emotionally. It's not all bad though! We've learned to really love cooking together and getting dressed up just to go to the park or go grab dessert can be really nice and, more than ever, I feel like I have a partner. He's my cozy, awesome, supportive mister.

6) You pawn tasks off on each other a lot more often and being "fair" can get kind of thrown out the window. No body loves taking the garbage out, or going down to the basement to do laundry- especially when you have to lug your shit up and down 4 flights of stairs. I go back and forth between being the dreaded chore-chart girlfriend, and the "I don't want to do that- you do that and I'll do the easier thing," girlfriend. This would be amusing, except your partner isn't your annoying ass roomie you can get away with pushing around....they're your partner you elected to live with and share a bed with, and hopefully, you appreciate. I find it really hard to step back, be less bossy, and get off my own but and share the work 50/50. I also find it hard not to get angry when I'm doing some lame chore and he's getting to lounge and hang out on his computer or do homework. Even if he did just get off from school and he helped out a ton earlier. It's definitely a tough balance.