God, you guys are really going to roll your eyes at this one. Hear me out.
Every failed attempt at friendships. Every failed attempt at hookups. Every failed attempt at relationships. Hell, every failed attempt at crushing on someone.. I mess it up. I’ve spent years asking myself, why do you have to ruin a good thing, Stephanie? Or why is the timing so off for this to work, Stephanie? The more I thought about it, those were never the right questions to ask.
Sometimes we self-sabotage relationships for a reason. We weren’t supposed to be with that person, and somewhere within ourselves, we already knew that. My first interaction with someone predicts if there will be a second interaction. We already know how skilled I am in the men department, but I never let that stop me. I can tell if it is going to work out from the first time I meet a guy. Whether it be the way they say hello, if they can keep up a conversation, if they make direct eye contact or the way they grab my face to kiss me for the first time.
Women have formed long checklists in their mind regarding compatibility, whether we like to admit it or not. When I was younger, this list was blurry. I understood that I had guidelines and standards for who I was courting, but I honestly didn’t care and was too naive to even begin to care. Then my 20’s came along and I decided that I couldn’t ignore the list anymore. It became clearer. Through every mistake of a human that I slept with or that I found myself wasting time talking to, I realized that this list was constructed for a reason. I couldn’t see it when I was younger because I did not have a foundation to base it off of. It became evident that all of my experiences have been tallying up over the years to make this ongoing resource that I must refer to when I get the icky feeling. I cringe when I don’t like something about someone and I cannot help it. I start noticing all of the deal-breaking flaws after the first one is presented before me and I’m not proud of it.
That then poses the question, do I have “the one”? At this point, I don’t know if I even have the patience for “the next one”. I’m the biggest fan of rom coms as the next sap, but I’m starting to stray further and further from the belief that I need to have the husband, the kids, or that damn white picket fence. I’m not a classic. I’m not a traditional. I’m an original. An original dumpster fire. And man, am I flaming.
As my 20’s gently move along, more and more of my friends are getting engaged and posting their gender reveal videos. This is extraordinary to me, considering I had to physically fight myself from driving to Taco Bell last night. This question doesn’t bother me as much anymore because I know that I am capable of attraction, but who is to say that is nothing more than infatuation? I don’t believe anyone has ever been special enough for me to stay interested longer than a month. I think that is perfectly fine though because everyone serves a purpose in your life and they probably belong with someone else who will give them the love they deserve in the long run.
I also think that I might be in love with myself. Que another eye roll, but its true. Almost every time I walk past a mirror, I take a few steps back and look a little longer at myself. It’s a funny thing, not hating yourself. I grew out of that stage in 2017. Self control has been the biggest struggle within two areas of my life: men and food. I took control Fall 2017 and I put an end to the unnecessary madness. There is no sense being miserable when you are placed in your body for a reason. You have been given the opportunity to have an amazing personality, to make a difference, to thrive. Don’t waste it by trying to conform to other people’s belief systems. You are you for a reason, and if that means adopting a doggo, traveling the world, and being the wino aunt… Then sign me up.