Tag: single

Thoughts about feelings

I’m noticing more and more that I hold completely different standards for myself than I do for others.

Whenever I start feeling something, I suppress that shit. Or, I outwardly act like I’m not feeling it, at the very least. But when my friends are feeling something? I affirm the shit out of them. I tell them that it’s okay for them to feel how they’re feeling. I let them talk to me about their feelings until I’m so fucking sick of hearing about it, but I still sit with them and listen to them anyway, because I know what it’s like to be feeling something deeply and to feel like nobody cares or that I’m being stupid.

This happens more for me with good feelings than with bad feelings, though.

To explain a little further: there’s a boy I like. The details of this situation are meant for another post at another time (and only if things work out, of course), but basically, my feeling suppression stems from not wanting to be too hopeful about the situation. Like, what if I end up not liking him as much as I think I do when I get to know him a little more? Or what if, like so many other dudes, he changes his mind about me?

I’ve barely talked to my friends about him. I’ve been letting myself think about him, like, a lot. Which is way more than what I’m comfortable allowing myself to do, because, like I said, don’t want to get those hopes up.

Idk, this is kind of turning into a mumbo-jumbo diary entry weird post, but my point is, I just wish I could allow myself to experience the feelings I’m having without trying to push them away.

 

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The Things I’ve Grown to Expect

I can’t believe I’m going to say this and probably jinx everything, but 25 has been a good year so far. We still have 10 months left to go, but it’s already gone better than 23 and 24 even combined, so that’s saying a lot.

The funny thing is, though, that up until probably this week, I was feeling incredibly depressed and lonely. It’s funny, how even the smallest good event(s) can make me forget about all the bad that I’ve been feeling. As cliché and unhelpful as it is to hear, things really do get better with time.

Part of the reason for my depression in the previous weeks, as I mentioned above, was loneliness. Where I live, I am far from nearly all of my friends, and I have been feeling rather isolated as of late. And when I begin feeling isolated, I come back full circle to this realization of my single-ness.

This single-ness has been a trait that I’ve possessed for a decent period of time now. At this point, I really should be used to it. Sure, there have been a few random almost-somethings, or situationships, or whatever you want to call them over the past year and a half (wow, actually, today would mark exactly a year and a half of me being single, almost to the exact time. I can’t figure out how embarrassing it is that I know this off-hand…), but nothing that I ever for even a moment thought would turn into the real thing.

This brings me to a conversation and a realization that happened recently. Over the past month, I’ve had two situations that were a one-and-done kind of deal. A date where I was ghosted afterward, and a drunken bar adventure night with a dude who never texted me after. And you know what? I don’t really care. Do you know why I don’t really care? Because it’s just what I’m used to now. It’s a standard that I’ve grown to expect.

A while after things ended with my ex and I had been involved with a couple of other dudes who ended up being kind of shitty, I told myself, and many others, that I had a new standard that I wouldn’t budge from from here on out. I am not chasing after anyone anymore. You’re interested in me? Then you make the first move. If not, tough luck, I’m out. I’m tired of being the one who cares way more and wants way more and loves way more. It’s draining and doesn’t make me feel good, and I’m honestly just over it.

So, for now, I’m not surprised when I’m ghosted or ignored, and it probably won’t bother me. And if it’s going to be this way, then, so be it.

But anyway, the point of that whole spiel is to say that when I feel lonely in other aspects of my life, it makes me miss the days where I had a steady person to turn to. A person who I could spend an evening with that I would have otherwise spent alone. I start to crave this kind of attention and relationship again.

The thing that gets me out of this rut, though, is remembering that even when I had my person, I still spent plenty of Friday nights alone, because he was with his friends instead of me. I still spent millions of Saturday nights at the bar as the third/fifth/ninth/seventeenth wheel, because he just didn’t want to come out and actually spend time with my friends more than once a season. And there were plenty of nights in between where he didn’t really feel like hanging out, but just did it to appease me. Or that I made him mad and he wasn’t really into being around me, but I had been drinking so I had to stay. Or a million and one other things that happened in that relationship that weren’t awesome. And then I realize that, through all these memories, I’ve always been fine on my own. Sure, I had more of a person than I have now, but it isn’t anything compared to the person I hope to have in the future. There was more that could have happened, that could have made me happier, that didn’t happen.***

So, for now, there are just shitty behaviors from men that, while they aren’t okay or excusable, are things that I can handle and brush off/get past/tolerate, because they let me know that that person isn’t what I want. My depression/loneliness has subsided for the most part, so these things aren’t going to bother me for the moment. These are things that, like the bought of depression that I felt, will be over with someday, and I won’t be able to remember how much I at times didn’t like it. At least, that’s my hope for the future.

I’m going to try to keep making 25 a good time, and if I find my person along the way, it happens. And if not, there’s always 26.

– Jessica

***Not trying to say that my ex was some horrible human being that didn’t care about me or anything. He hurt me a lot, yeah, but I can think of a few points in the relationship where I wasn’t perfect either. But in all honesty, these were very real, reoccurring issues on his part. He knew I wasn’t happy about this stuff because I communicated this to him, but it all still kept happening anyway. So yeah, that’s my disclaimer for ya.

Ruined Progress

I know everyone is probably tired of hearing me talk about my ex. Hell, I’m fucking tired of hearing me talk about my ex. I’m tired of thinking about him, feeling things about him…just fucking tired.

I was getting better. I got to this point where I didn’t really care anymore. Where I didn’t feel the need anymore to glance around at his Facebook profile when his friends would tag him in something. Finding out that he’s engaged now was enough for me to throw in the towel on my creeping for all of eternity.

Until he contacted me.

Let me just go off on a tangent for a minute and say that the State of Michigan is a fucking joke. I have had two other addresses since I lived at his place. I have gone through the tedious experience that is standing in a long ass line out the door thirty minutes before the Secretary of State office opens to change my permanent address both times. Yet for some fucking reason, they send my new license plate tabs to my fucking ex’s house where I haven’t lived in over a year.

So he texted me. Which, good for him for letting me know where they were, because I was getting worried. He also said he had some shit around that was mine still and asked if I wanted it back (which, fucking duh, dude).

So I went there. On my birthday, no less. And I saw him, in person, and talked to him, for the first time in over a year. It was short and cordial, no small talk or anything (side note: he also did not wish me a happy birthday, even though he clearly had to know it was my birthday since he celebrated four of them with me), only lasted long enough for him to hand me my shit and for me to leave.

And it fucking hurt, y’all. It really fucking hurts.

I’m so angry at everything right now. How can it be fair that I end things because I’m not being treated very nicely, and I’m still here, unable to fully move on and feel for anyone else what I felt for him, yet he fucking gets to feel all this happiness? This is just a fucking testimony to what I had always feared to be true: I am the one who felt and who loved and who cared the deepest, while, even if he didn’t realize it or whatever at the time, I was just some placeholder until something better came along. And that’s who I am for every fucking guy who I get with. Just something to keep around until they’re bored or they find someone who they like more. And how can you not even want to have a conversation with me? Know how I’m doing? Idk man.

And I really don’t even care that he’s happy. And it’s not that I’m not in general content with my life. That’s not any of it. But it isn’t fair that he doesn’t have to wonder anymore and that I do. All I know is that I haven’t met “the one” yet. I don’t know when/if/how I will meet him. I have all this wondering to do.

I hear all of these people telling me “once you stop looking, it’ll happen!” Yet, I was never looking, I’m not looking at all now, and it definitely hasn’t happened. Not that I’m itching to jump into another relationship right now. But I just wish I could know when this bullshit emotional roller coaster is going to end and when I’m going to meet the one who will make me move the fuck on, or if I’m not going to meet him, just know when I’m going to stop giving a shit.

Stay tuned, I guess.

-Jessica

The First Hiccup of 2018

I haven’t had any contact with my ex in nearly a year. Once he hurried into a new relationship, it wasn’t long before I was completely unfriended on every form of social media. However, I’m still friends with the majority of his friends on Facebook, Snapchat, etc. So I see things about him every once in a while.

Well, last night, I accidentally stumbled upon something that part of me wishes I hadn’t, but part of me is glad to know: he’s engaged. He has in fact been engaged for months now. It happened that fast.

Part of me is asking a million questions in my head. Why so fast? Why so willing to spend forever with her when he made excuses to delay that step with me? What’s so good about her that made this such a quick and easy choice for him? And so on.

Part of me thinks that my stumbling upon this discovery was no accident. Maybe there is a reason I found this, that something in the universe knew that this is something that I needed in order to really know that him and I are a thing of the past. Not that I was blissfully unaware of this fact before or hoping he would come back to me or anything like that. Just like…it makes me a little mad. Mad that he couldn’t care about me the way he does her when that’s all I so desperately wanted in our relationship. It makes me mad enough to never want to accidentally stumble upon anything about him or her ever again.

He has every right to move on and be happy, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not going to sit here and pretend like this doesn’t fucking hurt. Seeing this person who you really care about, who you would 100% still be with if you hadn’t been miserable, just latch on to another person so quickly and care about them in ways that you had longed for so badly from them, it feels shitty. It makes me feel like he was dishonest and that he knew he was wasting my fucking time, no matter how irrational that is.

I slept like shit after I found out last night, and honestly, I am anticipating a similar evening tonight. But we’ll see.

Other than this, though, 2018 has actually been treating me well so far. I’m trying to change my attitude a little bit and remember that it’s early in the year, and that one bad thing this early on won’t make or break anything. We’ll see how things progress.

Stay tuned.

-Jessica

The Vicious Cycle

As I’ve said time and time again, dating in your 20’s is hard.

Now that I’ve been single for a bit over a year, I’ve noticed a cycle happening over, and over, and over.

First, comes a desire to meet new people and get involved with someone. I get back on Tinder and Bumble, or I randomly meet someone or start talking to a friend of a friend, whatever. We’ll refer to this as stage one of the cycle.

If dating apps are the poison I pick, next comes a stage of feeling overwhelmed, we’ll call this stage 1.5. I’ll get involved in way too many conversations that I feel the need to narrow down for myself and end up on the same awkward sushi date three times in a week.

Then I get involved with someone and move way too fast into the situation, stage two. Not into a real relationship or anything, but just. Spending a ton of time with them. Sleepovers. Not much emotional involvement but the physical and material aspects of a relationship flood into my life in what seems like a day. Basically a whole lot of Netflix and chill nights.

And then, inevitably, after no more than a couple of months, it doesn’t work out. Sometimes its them, sometimes its me, but whatever the situation, the third and final stage of this cycle is the end.

The truth is, a lot of it stems from the fact that I haven’t felt about anyone how I felt about my ex. I just wanted to be with him and only him, and I knew it after only a few weeks. I was into him. And sure, I’ve gotten emotionally attached to dudes and liked being around them (well okay, this actually has only happened with like one guy), but its never like it was with my ex.

I guess I keep dropping guys and starting over because that’s the missing piece I’m searching for. And honestly, its a little discouraging that I can’t for the life of me seem to find that piece again.

It is kind of comforting, though. I have had a hidden fear that I don’t really like to talk about. A fear that maybe I’ve always jumped from relationship to relationship so quickly in the past not because I found the right person, but because I feared being alone. I know now that that is not the case, because with as many opportunities as I’ve had to get into a relationship, I’ve never stayed when I knew it wasn’t right or when I knew I wasn’t being valued.

But anyway, the point of me hashing this cycle out with myself is that I am caught in the middle of it right now. I’m in the midst of stage two, but I get this looming feeling that another round of stage three is in the cards. I just have mixed feelings about him at this point. But also, I really barely know him. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve hung out together. This makes me want to continue the situationship and see what happens, but my gut feeling is saying something different to me.

I think I’m ready for these cycles to end, but not because of the wrong person. I have it in my head that my next real relationship will be my last, and that I will be in it for the long haul once I finally find that right person. My gut is telling me that current dude is not that guy, and my conscience has me wondering if holding out longer is okay or if this would lead him on. I know he likes me, but how much? And are our differing opinions and views of certain things something that, in the future, would cause problems? Does he even realize how different our views are, or have I not been as forward about all of that as I should be?

It isn’t something that I’m going to decide tonight, but I definitely need to keep these things in mind and answer these questions for myself soon enough.

Stay tuned.

-Jessica

Single, but not lonely (Part II)

The biggest issue I have with the whole single = lonely thing is the fact that I am not fucking the slightest bit lonely.

First of all, can we remember that just because I’m single doesn’t mean that I haven’t looked at a man since my ex? Sure, I go back and forth with my feelings about the whole dating thing…well, okay, maybe not so much back and forth as much as 85% of the time feeling like I never want to be around another man again, 10% of the time spending like two weeks hanging out non-stop with a guy who I actually like being around before they decide to ignore my existence, and then like maybe 5% of the time double booking myself on Tinder dates all weekend long (yes, I know, I am at times the female version of a fuckboy, but you can either play the game or get played, am I right ladies?). I wouldn’t call it good, or healthy, or anything of the sort, but I definitely can attest that the majority of the time, if I’m not seeing any guys, it’s by my personal choice, and therefore I am not feeling lonely about it all.

My next, and most important, point, is that even if I wasn’t seeing guys when I wanted to see them, there are also these people who I like to call friends that most individuals spend time with, and who I happen to have in my life. I would in fact argue that I have some of the best, greatest friends that a girl could ask for. And this incredibly grateful, lucky girl typing this out right now, has friendships in her life that go back as far as 21 years ago. That’s literally almost all of my life, you guys. How many people can truly say that they have friends that they have known since they were three, four, and five years old?

And of course, I have friendships that only go back one or two years that are awesome as well. My very best friend is someone I’ve only known for two years, and she has introduced be to a whole group of friends who I get to call my own now (shout out to Angie for being responsible for literally 90% of my current social life lol).

Finally, I literally have multiple cats trying to lay on top of my body every moment that I am at home.

See? None of this looks like I am EVER ALONE. As I type this it’s like the orange one can sense that I’m thinking about him, and just moved from his spot a foot away from me on my bed and is now laying literally on top of my arms, making it slightly difficult for me to type.

On a more serious note, though, I don’t want to just speak for myself. Maybe someone is single and feels lonely because of it, and while I’m sorry to hear it, that’s totally okay and I will be the first person to validate your feelings (because I am all about validating other peoples’ feelings, let me tell ya). But what I don’t like is when people act as if, because one is single, they should feel lonely. People are allowed to be happy and content, regardless of their relationship status, and whether you personally agree with that or not. You shouldn’t need a relationship to feel whole, and nobody should make you feel like you do.

So don’t feel bad for me, and don’t try to convince me that I need to be less happy than I think I am.

-Jessica

Single, but not lonely (Part I)

I hate that being single is thought to be synonymous with loneliness.

First of all, alone time can be a great thing. After years of constantly spending my time with another person, when I suddenly found myself single, I realized that there was something about myself that I had never before thought to be a problem: I have no fucking hobbies. Literally nothing I enjoy doing on my own in my free time, because I was never, ever alone in my free time. And, much to my dismay, people think it a little odd when they ask, “So what do you like to do for fun?” and you respond by saying, “Well usually when I’m by myself I literally just lay in my bed and stare at the wall and think about life.” And rightfully so, because yeah, that’s fucking weird.

(Disclaimer: I’m fucking weird so I’m okay with it still, but there’s only so much laying in bed and staring that you can do until you start to feel like you might be a pile of trash and need to actually mobilize your body every once in a while).

Although I will never consider myself to be anything less than an extrovert, I’ve learned to enjoy being alone and forcing myself to take on hobbies. Things that I’ve always had an interest in or wanted to learn more about, I actually do now, and I actually like it. And also, with being alone, sometimes you’re forced to pick up hobbies that you didn’t actually like before but now really enjoy. For example, cooking.

Now, the cooking story is actually a funny one. About two years ago, when I found myself applying to graduate programs, on many of the applications you were asked questions that literally had nothing to do with anything academic. One of these questions that I came across on several applications asked about what I enjoy doing in my free time. Since I thought it inappropriate to say, “drinking”, or, “laying in my bed as staring at the wall”, or a slew of other completely uninteresting/inappropriate things that I enjoy and are not at all actual hobbies, I would say things like, “cooking”. Now, two years ago, I absolutely hated cooking, and I in fact did not do it very often. I would try, but usually end up being too tired/hungover/lazy and would end up going out to eat or mooching off of whatever Mike had cooked for himself that day or week. But then I lived by myself and realized that I was gaining weight because of my take-out habits that were fueled by laziness and mild depression, and I was not happy about it. So I started cooking. And now I actually like doing it, like, a lot.

The act of being alone is not inherently bad, and it is not always something that is unwanted by those of us who haven’t found our person yet. And although it’s been shitty at times, I’m so glad that something that I didn’t think was good has taught me something so valuable.

But this is only one small sliver of why I think that we need to throw this idea that single = lonely (or, more specifically, unwanted lonely), throw it out the car window, and back our vehicles up over it.

More to come on those other reasons later, since this post is almost as long as the last paper I turned in this past semester.

-Jessica