The Mean Green Eyed Monster, and I Don't Mean Envy...

I mean myself.

I'm not saying that I creep on Facebook, but I tend to creep on Facebook. Sometimes it is completely random and other times, well.. Other times, I have a mission. Creeping with a purpose.

Lately, I've been struggling with the balance of staying true to myself and loathing myself for not being more worthy of my boyfriend. Namely, not being like his ex-girlfriend. 

Which I know what you're thinking, why would I want to be more like her?

Well, for starters, she broke up with him. 

It sounds stupid and crazy, but I'm telling you. It makes a difference.

If he broke up with her, there would be a reason and I would avoid everything in my might to be like her because she wasn't a good fit. 

However, with her breaking up with him, there leaves room to wonder if I should be more like her. 

So I do the worst thing possible and I creep on her. 

I find out that we share certain aspects. We have a similar hair color and body shape. We share the same major and even share some mutual friends. We are both Northerners by birth. 

We also apparently have vast differences. Yet, no one seems to clue me into what those differences are.

"You're just different," they say.

Then I creep further. I find her pictures with him in them. The ones that form a tangible picture in my mind that she was once where I stand, where I sleep, and where I even brush my teeth. I see pictures of their shared happiness and all the things that tell me that I should be more like her.

He let her post these tangible evidences.

Then, there is me. Currently creeping and itching the stress rash on the back of my hand while fighting the knot in my stomach telling me that my life is going to be decimated by some fatal stomach ulcer. 

He kisses me now and tells me that I'm beautiful. Not her. He is with me. Not her. Yet, she's still there. The image I have built up of her, looking down on me like a vulture looks down on its prey. She infiltrates my dreams and keeps me up at night. She is in my subconscious, yelling at me for not being good enough for this man that I have come to adore more than my favorite book, which is saying a lot. She is the reason I don't eat as much as I used to, because of the huge knot that has been in my stomach for weeks. And yet, she is none of these things. She is not the reason for my problems. I am. I am solely the cause of the distress in my life. I let things get this bad. She is not in control of the fact that I am scared of her. I am. I am scared of her because I let myself believe that I need to be like her. I am the one hurting myself. My anxious heart doesn't like the idea of him being with another, but they once were. I let that get to me. 

I am the reason that I fear my own vulnerability. 

My Little Injustice Rant

I've always felt this injustice about being a female. Yes, I'm a privileged white woman. No, that does not stop me from seeing all the injustices. 

But my main concern is the inequality for all people. The fact that any person could be seen as better or more worthy than another is ridiculous to me. Men are not more able than women, just like a white person is more able than a black person. It just doesn't make sense. We're all unique in our abilities. We're all different. 

Even though the civil rights war has been fought and segregation is a thing of the past, the prejudice isn't gone. We might have abolished slavery, but we haven't abolished the root of the evil. A person should not be defined by their skin color. Yes, stereotypes are created and stemmed from truth. However, badgering and abusing people for the way they behave won't help them. Sometimes people need patience and education. Two things the United States is not good for. Even with public education, most kids aren't being taught on the same level as others. I can say that even in my well off school district, that some teachers just can't help certain kids. As a tutor, I learned that there are several different ways to solve a single problem and that working to figure that out on an individual level is the most promising way to help others. But that would take extra time. Budget cuts shrank the amount of teachers that each school could have, while the number of students continues to grow. They should not have cut anything from education. Other countries, such as Sweden, have free school including college. We pay for college here in the USA, which is a pain in my pocketbook. 

Anyway, back to inequality. It's clear to see the racial prejudice and stereotypes surrounding each race, both things make it hard to move forward.

Gender inequality is a royal pain in my ass, to be honest. First of all, the fact that a person should look any certain way is ridiculous. I don't need makeup, long hair, and be a family woman to be feminine. Just like men don't need huge muscles, a well paying job, and be tall to a man. The only thing that should make you a certain gender is how you feel. If you were born a man but identify with women, then what the hell, you're a woman in my eyes. The idea that gender defines a person is also ridiculous to me. Yeah, I'm a female, but that's not all. I'm a Christian, a moderate, a college student, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a girlfriend, and a pain in people's asses, among other things. But I'm not just a female. I don't have to be into rom-coms and Pretty Little Liars, but I am. I wouldn't judge a guy for liking those things. More power to him. The thing that chaps my ass most though is that the inequality is so large that it seeps into the roles we play. In the workplace, women still aren't making equal pay to men. We work harder to get the same thing. It's proven that an attractive woman is actually less likely to be chosen for a high ranking CEO job because she won't be "qualified." I feel like this is because men feel a social stigma to be the breadwinner and protector. To provide and be, well, masculine. I think they're scared that women can do the same thing because then, they will be making massive changes. Many people are afraid of the idea of being androgynous. No one wants to blur the lines and go out of the norm. I think they're forgetting who sets the norm. It wasn't God who said, "and let pink be for girls." No, people said that. Gender roles are man made. No divine entity would waste its time to create these cardboard boxes for people to fit into. It's not even fair to the divine entities to propose that they would. People are solely in charge of taking an interest and putting a label on it. Girls can like sports just as much as guys can like fashion. Honestly, who gives a shit if you don't fit a certain role? No one should judge you for being you. Not even the government. Yet here we are. Fighting to be ourselves in a land that is supposed to be for the free, not the oppressed. Yet, people are still fighting just to be able to show love, their own kind of love that should be able to be practiced. The kind of love that we deem acceptable only between a man and woman. Yes, it's only biologically possible to have kids if it's male and female parents. But that doesn't make heterosexual parents any better than homosexual parents, it just makes them different. There are thousands of kids in need of a foster home anyway. 

We also discriminate against anyone not picking a gender. So what if you don't feel right with the gender you were born with? Live your life the way you feel fit. I'm cisgender, I identify with the gender I was born. But that's not the case for everyone. Not everyone feels comfortable in their own skin. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is lay off. Let everyone do their own thing and don't pay them less for who they are. Don't be mean for who they are. Be understanding. It's easier said than done. But I promise you, recognizing that all human beings are capable of the same things will make your life easier. We're all capable of good and evil. One sin isn't greater than another. And you're supposed to love everyone equally, or if you're that person, hate everyone equally. God won't love one person more than another, so why would we, as the children of God, brothers and sisters to each other, feel like we have the right to feel above someone else and even treat them that way. I don't care how you live your life. It's something I'm working on, because it's not fair to judge others for things they can't control. 

What I Learned This Weekend

As a girlfriend to a fraternity boy, I go to parties. Not very many, but enough to see the real side of people. 

People like to claim that the drunk them isn't the real them. I like to say that this is false. Being drunk lowers or completely tears away your filter, allowing you to say things that you deserve to be slapped for. 

This gives a rather good insight to each person you meet. 

Although, one stood out to me. My friend said, "Sometimes, I go to these parties, I see how good the girls look and I wish I weren't in a relationship."

I began my night completely freaking out. I was bloated and my hair looked like shit. I was freaking because I wasn't sure if I looked good enough to accurately represent my boyfriend and his attractiveness, which is a huge deal because of how important it is to me that he represented well. I was mainly concerned about if any girls would see me, realize I'm not super attractive, and try to swoop in and steal him. Girls are mean, mkay? 

So I was already worried about every thought other girls were having, along with the fear of what my boyfriend was thinking when he saw all the girls who looked really pretty and party ready. 

Then one of his friends came over and said that. 

He should be glad his girlfriend was inside, but that didn't stop me from slapping the shit out of him.

He also didn't understand why I was so offended.

I had just spent my night freaking out about whether or not I looked okay and was pretty enough to keep my own boyfriend's attention and then this kid comes over and speaks my worst fear through someone else.

He feels trapped.

Which is cool or whatever, but if you feel that trapped then you can always get out.

My boyfriend kind of made me feel better.

But on a completely unrelated note, I am worried about summer. I don't really know why, because I can't control what happens. However, I am being driven bat shit crazy and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it.

I was on the phone with my mom the other day and she kept telling me "accept the things you can't change and change the things you can."

It's All On Me... And Society

Throughout this school year, I have been struggling with getting a grip on my confidence. 

I had struggled with it for six years prior and found a way to kind of recover. Then, of course, I relapsed.

So as I listen to Jessie J and cry a little bit, I want to delve into the details of this issue.

Let's start from the beginning, shall we.

When Fowler Middle School was built, 90% of my friend base moved away. I lost the few actual girly girl friends that I  had. I also lost the guy friends I had made. I was left with maybe three friends. All of which ditched me for the anime life. I am not without fault though. I may have made a few choice comments about anime. This made seventh grade harder than it needed to be.

Seventh grade started out with me needing to establish a friend base. This base became a melting pot of trouble. I thought these new three friends were going to be those friends that you stick with through college. The kind that you get an apartment with and raise three dogs while working jobs as waitresses to pay the bills and spent nights in the living room studying for classes. However, that wasn't the plan.

They say that everyone in your life has an effect, they all leave a mark. Whether those people stay or leave, they all teach you some kind of lesson.

These girls taught me what it means to be a girl. Most of all, they taught me what it means to be an insecure teenager who has a toxic habit of comparing herself to other girls. 

We obsessed over how our hair and makeup looked while simultaneously basing our worth on which guys liked us, if any at all. Or at least I had thought it was a "we." Really it was a "me." I soon began facing the harsh reality of females. They will help bring you down, but they won't be able to help bring you back up.

I loathed myself and wondered if I was worthy of living a life here on earth.

I never actually had a suicidal thought, but I pondered my own death with more frequency than a teenager ever should. I scared myself.

Starting in 7th grade, I began wearing makeup every day. I kept it up until I started college.

I would wear makeup from 7 in the morning til 11 at night, every single day. 

I wouldn't go to the gas station without makeup. I wouldn't go to my family's house without makeup. I just couldn't bear the idea of someone seeing my actual face, because that face wasn't good enough. 

I hoped that the makeup could save me from feeling like a troll. I didn't want to go without makeup and risk someone telling me that I wasn't pretty enough. 

My shirt neckline slowly became lower until I had teachers writing me up for dress code violations, all of which were solved by me pulling my shirt up. I hoped that maybe if I showed off the goods that a boy would take interest and validate my self-worth.

I confused lust for love and I began to settle. I accepted the love I thought I deserved.

I forced feelings in three different relationships and in about seven dating not-really-a-relationship relationships. 

I began to let go of most of my standards to the point where I was only achieving one of the 10 standards I have, accepting the love I thought I deserved.

I broke the hearts of four guys who confessed their love for me by just pretending they didn't say it because I couldn't bring myself to take the blame for the terrible cycle I was creating. 

I tried to find acceptance that I could only find in myself in other people.

I would flirt with guys to make myself feel better.

I would kiss random strangers to see if I could. 

I would try my damnedest to find the consolation that could only be found within my own self-love in another person.

I found my happiness in the bottom of a tumbler full of water, with a face void of makeup, in running tights, proving my own worth on an animal science test. 

I found my own self-love by being myself and letting the acceptance from others encourage my self-worth without basing my self-worth on them.

I lost my self-love at the bottom of another girl's facebook, with a face stained with dried tears, in a large t-shirt, proving that relapses happen when you compare yourself to your boyfriend's exes.

I lost my self-love by forgetting to remember that I was chosen above the other girls who he could have chosen.

I lost my self-love by looking on with envy at the girls he didn't choose.

I lost my self-love by forgetting that makeup doesn't change my personality and that the humidity doesn't allow all outfit choices.

I lost my self-love by forgetting the importance and healthiness of loving yourself.

I will find that self-love again. For myself and for those around me.

I will do it for myself so that I can always enjoy my relationship.

I will do it for myself so that I can conquer the mishaps in life.

I will do it for my grandpa because he taught me that I deserve to be happy.

I will do it for my mom because she raised me to be like her and she is the definition of beauty.

I will do it for my dad because confidence is key to being a leader.

I will do it for my grandma because being classy comes with having respect for yourself.

I will do it for my little brother so he knows what kind of girl he deserves.

I will do it for my best friends because they don't deserve my constant problems.

I will do it for my boyfriend because he deserves to have a woman who likes herself as much as she likes him and so that he knows she wants him but doesn't always need him there.

This Kid That Let's Me Take Over His Bed and Room

As for my other favorite guy, I've been thinking about him a lot recently.

When I first met this kid, I was apprehensive because it would have been against girl code to try anything with him since my best friend had a thing for him. Plus, I thought he was too attractive to be a nice guy.

I found him attractive; however, I didn't find him as attractive as the other girls did.

Honestly, I found him to be not up to par with what I was expecting.

The few days after the initial meeting changed everything I had thought about him.

I got to know him and I had to fight a very disappointed look when I saw him with another girl.

Once we became in a relationship, I knew I was done for.

When I look at him, I see a whole face. A face that no one can compare to. His eyes hold me like nothing else. I could stare into them for hours. His lips are fuller than mine but in the best way possible. They also do this cute kind of flutter thing when he exhales in his sleep. 

He can perfectly brush back his hair without looking, but it always gets messed up by him nuzzling into the pillow. His neck is ridiculously long but it matches his broad shoulders perfectly. It also makes cuddling a thousand times easier for me. His chest has this little concave part that he apparently dislikes, but its my favorite place to rest my hand because it puts my palm in the perfect position to feel his heartbeat.

I'm not a foot person, but I can make an exception for him when our feet touch. His arms are just the right amount of muscular to not be too bony but also not too overdone. His legs are probably smaller than mine, but not in a bad way. He's very proportional. It used to bother me that he was so thin compared to me, but it doesn't bother me anymore. 

The way he laughs stays with me when we're apart. His voice reads the messages he sends and the statuses he posts. He finds his way into my dreams. His jokes keep me laughing when I remember them. He challenges me intellectually. He makes me want to be a better person. His patience with me makes me appreciate him more than his looks ever could. The way he handles himself with other people captivates me because of how mature he is, but how he can let go with me. 

He really just captivates me all the time. The way he looks at me makes me feel like there is no other girl in the world. The way he holds me reassures me that he agrees. The things he says takes away every ounce of doubt I have.

I could go on for hours about how this boy makes me feel. I could probably talk for years about how he makes me feel, honestly. 

My Favorite Man

Before I begin writing about myself, I want to discuss someone very important to me.

I know what you're thinking... "NOT ANOTHER POST ABOUT YOUR BOYFRIEND."

No, not yet. There will be one.

This one is about my actual best friend, my first best friend, and my favorite person besides maybe my mom.

This one is about my Papa.

He was with me from the very beginning. My buddy. 

It's hard to believe he's gone even though it's been a few years.

I still hope that he'll magically appear each time I go over to my Mimi's house.

I have their home phone number in my contacts as Mimi and Papa.

He was the greatest man I have ever had the joy of knowing. He taught me geometry when my teacher was failing to find a way to help me learn. He was the one who taught me that I have nothing to complain about and he is the one that I truly hope to be a better person for. 

When I do find myself complaining, I feel bad. All I can think is "what would Papa think if he saw you acting this way?"

He is the reason I try so hard to achieve all my goals in life.

He is still my best friend. I talk to him sometimes. Most of the time it ends in me crying. 

I'll listen to the songs that we played at his funeral and I smile and cry at the same time.

I mostly just sit and think about the memories that we could have had and the time I wasted being a teenager instead of trying to spend time with him

I also think about how he told me that I was his favorite.

I always knew it from the way he would let me have cookies when my mom tried to ground me or from how I was the only grandchild to actually have some kind of relationship with him.

I thought about him yesterday and cried in the bathroom to avoid having to tell my boyfriend what was wrong. It's not that I am ashamed to cry for Papa, it's that I am ashamed to cry in general.

I began to cry because I realize how much I miss him in waves.

I remember something from when I was eight and then realize that I won't be able to remember it with Papa.

I hear a song and think about how he used to listen to it during breakfast during the week.

I see a television show that I know he would be interested in and I want to call and tell him about it, but he isn't there to answer.

When he was in the hospital back when I was a wee lass, he was worried that I would be scared of all the tubes and catheters and wires that were monitoring his life. Yet, I wasn't. He wasn't the tubes, catheters, and wires. He was still the same Papa he was a few days before. 

I just realized that I really miss him. I know I will miss him until I see him again.