Why do we equate control with love?

What do I mean by control? When you are in a relationship or talking to someone or dating someone whatever the title is, and things are going great and then all of a sudden the other person tries to impact your interaction with your family, friends and your hobbies. For example, one night early on in the relationship you go out dancing with your girlfriends and you get a text message from your current love interest that says “Video chat me when youre home so I know you’re safe and didn’t go home with anyone *sticks out tongue emoji* *kissy emoji* lol.” And if you’re like me, you instantly have this thought. Fuck you I’ll take someone home if I fucking want to, we aren’t official and you don’t own me. Ok, calm down you rebellious psycho, I might think trying to reason with myself. So I have a second thought. Ok it’s actually sort of sweet that he’s worried about me and honestly I would like to video chat with him because I’ve really enjoyed our chats so far. So I respond, “Of course I’d love to chat with you later!” and you put away the phone and continue chatting with girls in the bathroom or continue dancing.

But then 2 hours later, it’s 3am and you find yourself waltzing in the dining room of Waffle House because we are dancers and we will literally dance anywhere. But while you’re dancing, you miss three of his calls and you don’t respond quickly enough to his message saying “Are you ok? I’m getting worried.” After sitting down you’re laughing and the waitress is placing your waffles on the table so you return his call. “Hey!!! Yes I’m fine! I’m at waffle house!!” You say excitedly. He’s quiet. “Why are you so out of breathe?” He asks. You laugh. “Oh, Kaitlyn and I were just dancing in the dining room at waffle house! We had to cuz a waltz came on!” He’s quiet for another moment. Yes can I have some more salsa please. You say to the waitress. You turn your attention back to the conversation on the phone. He hasn’t said anything. “Are you ok?” Finally you notice he’s acting different. He responds quickly. “Yes, just call me when you get home.” And he hangs up.

Fast forward three months down the line. You no longer dance. You no longer go out with your friends. And the only time you do go out is with him to maybe see a movie. Maybe he’s not that bad. Maybe he still lets you go dance but he has to be there with you and he has to see you within a certain amount of songs. Or maybe he doesn’t let you dance with other guys at all. Even the gay ones. Because you know, you’re just so hot, you’d turn them. Ok I’m harping a little on dancing but it’s a major hobby of mine and the minute someone tries to control it. I have a red flag going off. I love dancing. And if you truly loved me or were interested in me then you wouldn’t get in the way of it. And you wouldn’t because you have a self esteem that is better than a thirteen year old girl worried that her breasts aren’t going to come in.

Obviously, I escalated this example but that’s because it’s not that far from a relationship that we have ALL experienced. I have literally never met anyone that hasn’t complained about being in a previous relationship where the other person got controlling. And it always escalates because they start out small. They start with a small stream of control flowing down from the mountains but over time, this small stream erodes your solid ground and turns into a raging river. But you’re okay with the river now. You convince yourself that it’s out of concern or love. They wouldn’t ask so much of you or worry about losing you so much if they didn’t really love you. And then after some more time, you look back at the river and it’s turned into the fucking Grand Canyon. Somehow, they managed to carve a huge hole out of your life and you don’t even recognize yourself or your personality anymore.

I’ve had a relationship that carved a Grand Canyon into me and it was hard to climb back out. I’m still climbing to be honest. I don’t regret the Grand Canyon; it made me stronger because I had to force myself to climb out and figure out who I really was. And in that process, I learned that I shouldn’t tolerate a stream of control. I shouldn’t even tolerate the first drop of control. Because control and manipulation is NOT an expression of love or interest. Let me repeat that. It is NOT AN EXPRESSION OF LOVE!!!

How is love expressed? It depends on the person but the prevailing idea is associated with Gary Chapman’s book titled The five Love Languages: How to express heartfelt commitment to your mate. I link explaining the five languages in better detail will be included below this article but to summarize. Chapman says that humans express love in five distinct ways. We might have one or two that we use dominantly and the others we use rarely. They are gifts, acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time and physical touch. When we buy that tshirt for our Dad, we are expressing the gifts love language. When we watch our friends cat over the weekend, we are expressing acts of service. When we tell our mom that she looks beautiful today, we are expressing words of affirmation. When we set aside date night with our boyfriend we are expressing quality time and last but not least when our friend is crying and without saying anything, we wrap our arms around them and pull them in for a hug; we are expressing physical touch. Sometimes we use more than one at a time but note; not any one of those languages is there embedded “control your partner because you’re afraid of losing them.”

But control in a relationship is often seen as an expression of love because it’s disguised under protection or glossed over because they say something like “well I’ve been cheated on a lot in my past so I have trust issues.” And because you love them, you don’t want to give them a reason not to trust you, so you accommodate their pettiness by meeting their relationship demands. Do not validate their insecurities by compromising yourself.

So if control and manipulation isn’t an expression of love, then what is it? Why is it so bad if it’s disguised under protection? A controlling person is the single most petrifying sign in a relationship because it is actually an expression of a lot more hidden things that that person is dealing with. Which include but are not limited too; deeply embedded insecurities, emotional imbalances, an inability to love themselves or an unhealthy desire for perfection. These issues corrode a relationship and it has nothing to do with you, except that your presence in their lives feeds their ego and they want to keep from losing you because they know that their ego wouldn’t be able to handle it. You are a projection of what they value and their self esteem believes they lack. If they can hold onto you. If you are theirs then they have this thing that they desperately want to have themselves. The ironic part is that they will tear down the part of you that they value and want themselves because they are that controlled by their ego and jealousy. If they value beauty and they think they are ugly. They will pick that one imperfection you have and harp on it every day until you no longer think you’re beautiful and you are theirs to control. If you have a great family, and their family is shit, they will point out every flaw within your family so that you separate yourself from them and then guess what, they control you. Is this starting to make sense?

We equate relationships and love so much with control that some of us are afraid to be in them. I never try to control anyone. And I especially don’t try to control someone I love. I don’t ask you to text me every two hours. I don’t make you feel bad for doing something without me. I don’t set a time limit for a relationship to progress and I won’t even ask you to be with just me.

Because the thing about people is that the less control you try to place on them the more you see how they truly are because they don’t feel the need to hide or lie to you. And the more honest that they are with you, the more you’ll understand them and appreciate them for everything that they are. The good and the bad. Let go of any control you think you have over your partner and let them be who they are. Because you don’t have that control. It’s just an illusion. That’s why people get so upset when they get cheated on. And they lose all ability to trust people. Please. You lost trust in yourself to be able to control people. So now you’re afraid. You can’t control anyone, no matter how much you want to. So let it go. And love people for who they are.

(Disclaimer: I’m not saying get back with people who cheated on you. I’m just saying let go of the illusion that you can keep them from doing it because people do what they want. And if they do, just move on.)

Inspiration article:

7 Early Warning Signs A Guy Is Going To End Up Being Controlling AF

The five languages of love: https://www.5lovelanguages.com/

COME ON!!! STAY!!!!

THIS ONE IS FOR THE DANCERS!

Recently, I started a second job. I want to get caught up on bills and I want to be able to save up for a trip to Rome. I’m dead set on going on another trip by myself and if you haven’t done it yet, I highly recommend it. But since I started a second job that means I’m going to have to have more willpower when it comes to dancing. I might not come out as much or stay as late but I still want to be surrounded by my friends and to dance because I love dancing! But that brings me to my point. As a group, we REAAALLLY need to stop battering people for being responsible.

How many times has our friend tried to leave right when the night is getting good because they have to work in the morning and we beg them into staying later or calling into work? We tell them, You only live once!! Or come on, just stay for a few more songs! Or you can’t leave yet, I never come out!!

I get it. I do. I want all of my friends out there at the same time, dancing the night away. But we are also adults, trying to better our lives by working or studying hard. And it takes a lot of willpower to tell our friends begging us to stay that we have to leave to get some sleep for work the next morning. I think some of us have just learned through experience, even though it should be common sense, that if you stay out until 2am and have to work at 7am the next morning, a small part of your soul is going to die.

Because of this, I think we should be conscious of our friends needs and encourage them to be responsible. If you are my friend and even if I haven’t seen you in awhile and you tell me you that you have to go, you really want to stay but you seriously have to go because you have to be at work in seven hours. I’m going to kick your butt out of the door. Not because I don’t want you there but because I know it’s hard to walk away from the friends and the fun. If we are a family like we say we are, we wouldn’t be peer pressuring each other like 5 year olds on a playground into something that is going to hurt us the next day.

Of course, if you say you have to be at work at 7am and I look at my phone and it’s 2am, I’m going to then look at you like you’re crazy and suggest you go home and get some rest but if you decide to stay anyways; I get that too. Sometimes, on rare occasions it can be fun to stay out way to late. But I am NOT going to be the one begging you to stay. It should be 100% your decision.

If we encourage this culture where we are happy to see each other, even if it’s only for a couple hours and we don’t pressure our friends to stay late when they have to get up early, I think we would see a lot more of our friends that would otherwise choose to stay home because they are afraid that they won’t be able to leave at a decent hour. Imagine a dance culture that encourages responsibility and awareness, not only would we grow but the support would increase and as years passed, we would turn into a group with degrees. A group with well paying jobs. A group that can easily support their children and a group that has real influence in the cities around us. And we wouldn’t have to give up dancing to accomplish these things!! Of course there are plenty in the group that already have these accomplishments but I think we should be fostering achievement and responsibility more than hindering it for another hour of fun.

So I ask you to challenge yourself for the next week or so. If you’re talking or dancing with a friend and they tell you that they have to leave, stop yourself. Before you beg them to stay; think about them and their needs and encourage them to go home and get some rest.

Comment below or on the facebook page if you agree or disagree. THANK YOU FOR READING!

Untitled Chapter 1

Hey everyone, so this is a departure from the sort of thing I normally write. This is the first chapter of a fictional story I am working on. I joined a writing group and I plan on reading this on Wednesday to a group of authors for critique. But first, I would like to show it to you guys to see if there is anything I can fix. Let me know what y’all think and thank you for taking the time.

The dimming yellow lights flickered in the subway as it sped through the tunnels deep under the bustling streets of the Big Apple. The passengers lucky enough to have a cold metal seat curled in their shoulders and crossed their arms in order to avoid touching their neighbors. The rest gripped onto the poles and firmly planted their feet on the floor for balance. Everyone’s shoulders bobbed back and forth with each clank and turn that the subway cart made. Most of the city dwellers had their eyes shut, focused on their smartphone screens or were staring off into space. But Dallas, a man sitting in the far back seat of the train was leaning forward in his seat and wrinkling his eyebrows over the next clue for his crossword puzzle.

Number 4 Across was seven letters and was asking for “What ended a tragedy?” Dallas stared at the seven empty white boxes and considered what ended a tragedy. He thought of different types of tragedies, earthquakes, bombings, or any disaster really. Natural ones ended on their own, or maybe it was God. Other types of tragedies were ended by a hero or by someone deciding to do something about it. But he wasn’t sure what word was seven letters and would match the clue.

He was concentrating so hard on his clue solving, that Dallas was startled out of his skin at the sound of a woman’s voice inches away from his ears. “Twenty one across is ‘escrow’?” She said. He glared at her, irritated at her unprompted assistance and then frowned disapprovingly at her large purple and green plaid scarf wrapped around her neck. Her curious brown eyes stared at him. The man returned to his puzzle. “I’m not there yet.” He said. The girl leaned in closer and peered over his shoulder. “Are you sure that you could have gotten that one on your own? It’s kind of a tough one.” She asked. Dallas scooted an inch over so that she couldn’t see the rest of his puzzle. “I think I would have been just fine.” He replied. The girl frowned and backed away. “Alright, be that way.” She said crossing her arms and leaning away from him. Dallas read the clue for 21 across to himself, ‘A contract, deed, bond or other written agreement deposited with a third person.’ He had no earthly idea what that was. He tried to remember what she had said but all his brain kept spitting out was escargot. Which was definitely a cooked snail and had nothing to do with a bank agreement.

Dallas shrugged to himself, he wasn’t there anyways. He’d figure the answer out when he got there. He glanced over his shoulder to see if the girl with the barney colored scarf was still sitting beside him. But she was gone. Confused, Dallas sat up and searched the rest of the car. She wasn’t there. Dallas thought to himself, trying to remember if they’d stopped since she’d scooted away from him. But he couldn’t remember. He’d been too absorbed in the answers. She must’ve gotten off, he finally decided. She probably snuck out to avoid talking to me again. I’m surprised she tried talking to me in the first place. Dallas thought. He pictured the brightly colored scarf wrapped around her neck under her brown eyes and wondered what was underneath the scarf. If he’d pulled out his gun, he could have forced her to show him but he’d been too absorbed in his puzzle to think about it. Now she was gone and he would never know. Obviously, the girl wasn’t very smart because she’d talked to a man that was now fantasizing about threatening her just to see what was under her scarf. He imagined a large scar encasing her throat or maybe a hideous tattoo she’d gotten one drunken night wrapping around her waist and framing her perfect perky breasts. It was then that Dallas realized the answer to one across, a clue he’d skipped. “Cross your heart” was a reference to something people did to symbolize a promise. He wrote ‘Promise’ into the white boxes.

        Dallas continued to sit in his seat on the subway, analyzing the crossword puzzle and the strange woman’s behavior until he arrived at his stop, Penn Station. One of the larger stations in New York City, it was full of travelers, workers, and the beggars hoping for some change to fall out of their pockets. Dallas walked towards the center of the station and peeked around an awkwardly positioned wall blocking his view. And there, just like every other Thursday was his only friend Gus, wrapped in a large black blanket resting in his nearly shredded wheelchair. The old man wasn’t handicapped but the chair was so convenient and comfortable that he’d seen Gus fight two teenage boys to the ground to keep it. Gus was dressed every bit a man living on the streets with his long green patched up jacket stuffed to the brim with newspapers, his mismatched gloves and mud stained beanie. He looked so needy that strangers would toss him coins without even being asked.

“Gus, wake up! I made it.” Dallas said. The slumped old man’s head perked out of his nest, searching for the source. “How are you this morning, sir?” Gus asked when he spotted the man staring at him. Dallas sighed and pointed at the vacant tiles next to Gus. “Is that seat taken?” He asked. The homeless man sat up straight in his chair as if he were welcoming a guest. “No, No. It’s all yours.” Gus was unfailingly kind but also extremely forgetful. They saw each other every Thursday and every Thursday, Gus would start to introduce himself like they were strangers. But they were far from strangers; Dallas had slept beside him in many cold damp alleys and begged for money on the same corners as his old friend. Before he’d gotten the watch, they were desperate together. And they’d conned many people out of enough money for a bottle full of bliss. For almost nine years now, Gus had been his friend. They’d traded stories whether true or false and ranted about the injustices of the society that they lived in. Dallas almost beat a man to death for calling Gus a scab of New York City once. The old homeless man was the only person he’d ever been completely honest too and sadly the poor man was slowly losing all recollection of Dallas and his own life as his dementia took over. “I’m doing alright today.” Dallas responded. Gus’ most distinguishing feature, his huge underbite, caused his jaw to shake abnormally in response. “Well that’s good, what brings you to this spot at Penn Station on this cold day?” The man with the watch shrugged. “Just doing the normal routes. Have to make sure everyone is doing alright.” The man’s entire body shook. His eyes rounded to take in the young man next to him. “You ain’t a cop are you?” Dallas shook his head in the negative and then changed the subject. “Of course not, Gus can I ask you something?” The old man nodded, his chin haphazardly following his nod. “Of course, of course anything you need. I fought against the Japs in ’67, and boy, I could tell you some frightening stories. Them Asians are the spawn of Satan.” Dallas sighed but decided not to correct him so that he could ask him his question. “Do you believe in time travel?” Gus leaned back in his seat, overwhelmed. “Yeah I don’t see why not. Sure would be fun if I could travel through time. I’d probably go back and kick the shit out of that brat that tried to steal my chair again. You remember that?” Dallas stared at his friend amused that pieces of his memory came back and others didn’t make any sense. He nodded politely and then decided to let Gus rant about the conspiracy during the terrorist attack on 9/11.

“The way I see it, Bush wanted all of the business people and the firefighters dead so that he could take over. Then while all of this was going on, he was brainwashing little kids to follow him after all of New York City had burned to the ground.” Dallas shook his head at his friend. The poor guy barely remembered anything correctly and he was out on the streets to defend for himself. But Gus wasn’t his responsibility, he couldn’t take care of him anymore, he was busy trying to keep himself on a leash. The homeless man exited the subway station at the same time he did every Thursday, with his finger raised in the air scolding the entire Bush administration, he rolled up the ramp and onto the streets. With his old companion out of the station, Dallas returned his attention back to his puzzle.

        But before he could properly focus on the next clue, Dallas felt eyes weighing down on him. He looked up for the source and saw a well-dressed man leaned against the wall about 5 paces to his left. Dallas studied the man with the upturned nose. His pant suit was neatly pressed and his red tie was tucked in place. His cleanly cut hair was smoothed back and was complimented by his recently shaved face. He pulled his black briefcase to his other side and crossed his legs to face away from the homeless man glaring at him from the floor. Dallas stood. “What are you staring at?” He asked. The man with the briefcase scoffed, rotated his perfect blonde head and unwisely said. “I was admiring you and your friend’s ability to impersonate a pile of shit.”

        Dallas covered the distance between them and pulled his gun swiftly from his pocket; placing it directly at the man’s cringing nose. “Wrong answer. Try again.” Dallas said. The man panicked. He fell to his knees with his briefcase displayed in front of him. He searched the station for someone to help him. But only a few had noticed and they were all frozen in place, not sure what to do. “Look, I’m sorry. Take this briefcase, it has $600 in it. Just don’t shoot me.” He pleaded. Dallas rolled his eyes. It never ceased to amaze him at how quickly people changed their attitude when they realized that the person they were dealing with was certifiably insane. “Wrong answer again.” He said. And then pulled the trigger. The first bullet slammed into the man’s arm and threw his body up against the wall. Blood spattered the dirty station concrete. Several woman behind him screamed. The man threw the briefcase and yelled in pain; tears flowing down his cheeks as he gripped his bleeding forearm. The second shot went through his stomach, causing the man who had been scowling only moments before to stain his khaki pants brown.

Dallas knelt down to look the man in his eyes as they clung onto his last few moments of life and asked. “Now who’s the piece of shit?” And then pulled the trigger the third time, blowing his brains all over the subway.

        Dallas stared at the dead body as the relief spread through his limbs. He wondered if all killers felt the same release he did at taking the life out of somebody’s eyes. It was a shame he’d never get to go to jail and talk about his experiences with other murderers. Maybe he would someday and he could create a support group for his fellow strugglers. “How many people here stare into their victim’s eyes right before they kill them?” He would ask. Maybe one or two would raise their hands but the rest would stay silent and maybe even look away, slightly ashamed. “Those of you who don’t aren’t real killers!” Dallas would shout. “Would you like to know why?” They’d nod sheepishly. “Well good, I’ll tell you why! When you hold a person’s life in your palm, they stare back at you with the entirety of their soul in their eyes. They are so scared, that they are laying everything that they know about themselves, every memory and every feeling that they’ve ever felt right there on the table for you to examine. It’s right there in their eyes, pulled from the depths of their hearts and given to you out of desperation. In this wordless moment, you will forget that you have your own feelings, becoming completely absorbed with theirs. So much so that you might want to change your mind. You might think, ‘wait, this person doesn’t deserve to die.’ And then surprisingly decide to let them go. Then you are weak. They have no more meaning than any other person on this planet and they are attempting to deceive you. It takes courage to look them in the eyes and kill them anyways. Proving in a second that whatever meaning they held for themselves was ultimately a waste of time.” The room would become stunned with silence. Not even other killers would be able to identify with Dallas when he described killing in such a romantic way.

        Zapped back into reality, Dallas heard people screaming and running frantically behind him. A woman was crying into her 9-1-1 call. “He just… shot him!! Right here… in the middle of the station!” Great. The cops would be here any minute. He thought.

Dallas turned. Still in the crouched position next to his kill, he searched for the bathroom. Then he stood and darted through the crowd towards the men’s bathroom. The onlookers panicked. Not sure where he was going and why. They sprinted in different directions. Dallas slammed into the bathroom and into the only stall. He then twisted the knob on his watch to the moment before he’d yelled at the rich man sneering against the wall. The chaos and screaming ceased and the normal bustling footsteps returned. The man that had been drumming on a bucket outside of the bathroom returned.

Dallas buried his head into his knees as his mind took in another kill. Visions clouded his brain and pulled him to another place far away. He knew that he was still in the bathroom but at the same time, he felt pulled from the real world. As if he had been thrown into the static of his television for the rest of his life. He screamed and cried to be set free but the eternal static remained.

        “Sir! Could you hurry up, I really need to take a dump.” A muffled voice bellowed through his subconscious; Dallas felt as if he was being pulled to the surface. The dingy stall returned as Dallas gasped for air. A man standing outside his stall pounded on his door. “Hello! Is anybody in there??” He hollered. Dallas unlocked the door and stumbled out of his cell. “It’s all yours.” He said. Dallas met the irritated eyes of the man with the briefcase from the subway and remembered how desperate they’d looked right before he’d killed him. But now, the man shoved Dallas to the side like he was a peasant and slammed the stall door in his face.

        Dallas emerged from the bathroom and saw the people that had been frantic only moments before now filing into the subway. They had no memory of him killing a man in plain sight in the station. In fact, they didn’t even look at him. The subway dinged and sped down the tunnel towards the next stop taking the group with it.

        Leaving the scene behind, Dallas walked up the stairs and emerged onto a bustling New York City sidewalk.  Before he continued down the sidewalk, Dallas darted to the nearest alley where he sank into the damp concrete and rested his back against the cold brick. He pulled out his crossword puzzle and thought about the next solution.

        Three down was ‘thinking makes it so.’ And since it intersected with five across which was, ‘Tokyo’ he knew that the second letter of the nine letter word had to be an ‘o.’ Dallas thought to himself wondering what thinking made. For some people, thinking led to ideas and success and then more and more money. For others, thinking made them depressed and lonely. It could make them bitter and cause them to wallow in self-pity. While it was a simple answer, perhaps it was saying that thinking made someone good or bad. Dallas checked and it fit. He wrote down the letters and then sighed and leaned his head against the brick.

How to be vulnerable

To be vulnerable means to expose yourself to the possibility of being attacked or harmed physically or emotionally. Most of the time, it goes wrong. And we learn to avoid situations where we are vulnerable. For example, when you were six, learning to ride a bike and you didn’t wear your knee guards, you left your knees vulnerable to injuries should you fall. It only took one fall for you to learn to wear your guards and protect your knees from scratches and bruises. That was a lesson in vulnerability that you had to learn to protect yourself physically. But sometimes we learn lessons on vulnerability with emotional protection. Think about that one time you told someone you loved them or you were falling for them and they backed away and told you not too. From that day on, you learned to hesitate before stating your feelings for someone, waiting for the moment that they will be able to accept it.

But now think about the few times being vulnerable worked in your favor. The time I asked one of the best dancers for a dance, risking embarrassment and rejection and instead of being turned away, he said yes! Or even just starting to dance is such a vulnerable thing we put ourselves through. Any sport where you have to perform in front of others is a risk in vulnerability, and even though we lose a lot and mess up a lot; the act of being brave and trying leaves us with no better feeling. There is no better cure for our self esteem than to do something in spite of our fear. Starting this blog was a huge step for me in overcoming my vulnerability. I used to only show a couple people a year my writing and I was even nervous about that. And now, people can read my writing outside of my control. That concept is absolutely terrifying, even if only a couple a year read it who choose to read it.

Being vulnerable is the key to truly loving who you are, finding joy and experiencing real intimate relationships. According to this website,  https://www.girlfriendcircles.com/blog/index.php/2014/10/5-types-of-vulnerability-its-way-more-than-skeletons-in-your-closet, there are five different types of vulnerability. The first on is new ways of interacting. This is inviting friends to a paint class or going to a writing group or even going on a first date in years after your divorce. The second type is new areas of conversation. We tend to put people in conversation boxes. I speak with Joe about motorcycles. I speak to pastor about Jesus. I speak to Christina about traveling. But what if we switched this up? Talk to your pastor about traveling, talk to joe about Jesus and motorcyles with Christina. Sometimes people wont know anything and sometimes you’ll learn something. The third type is areas of shame and insecurity. I think this is what we typically associate with being vulnerable. But think about those things that have happened to you or that you’ve done that you’ve never told anyone for fear of what people will think and try to talk about them with someone that you trust. There is healing and forgiveness in being vulnerable. The fourth type is sort of an odd one and I’m not sure if I agree with it but perhaps you will understand. The fourth one deals with being afraid to speak about your accomplishments or achievements for fear that you will come off as arrogant or that you wont fit in.

                The fifth one and most definitely the one that I struggle with is: asking for what you prefer or need. I am so terrible and afraid of doing this. I’m afraid it will push people away and that what I need is too much to ask of people. I’m afraid that they will think I’m weird or not understand. And because of that, I mostly just don’t ask for what I need. It’s so much easier to stay quiet than to figure out the right time and how to word it. For example, I need a lot of alone time. Even though I consider myself a social extrovert. I require time to research, read, write and play calming video games like Minecraft. If I don’t get that alone time, I turn into the grouchiest person you will ever meet. I suddenly hate everyone and everything irritates me. But I often ignore that need because I don’t want my friends/significant other to think I’m weird or antisocial for needing time away from them. I worry that they think I don’t like them or don’t want to see them and because I value those relationships more than I do my own happiness; I push myself way past my breaking point of alone time needed. I wish I didn’t need it. I often think if I push myself maybe I can grow out of it but that doesn’t look promising. So, I need to figure out a way to be vulnerable and tell people what I need and hope that they understand and listen.

I also can’t stand conversations that don’t have any substance. If you text me, “wyd” or “good morning,” I’m instantly irritated. Don’t message me that. Now I have to take the time out of something I’m focused on to reply back “nothing” or “morning” so that you don’t think I hate you or am ignoring you. Because I don’t want to ignore you. On some level I value the friendship but if you aren’t saying anything to me that has substance or a purpose, it’s highly likely I just won’t respond. But this is an odd thing to need or prefer and to voice it comes off as rude. Like how do you tell someone whining that you don’t respond to them that they need to be more interesting without hurting their feelings even more?

These are just two examples that I know hold me back from being close to someone since I’m too scared or worried to voice what I need unless they give it to me naturally. But I challenge you to think about the ways that you could be more vulnerable and try to act on them, even if they are small. Start small and move towards breaking what is preventing you from having true joy and intimacy.

Also watch the documentary on Netflix titled Brene Brown about vulnerability. It inspired me to write this blog and I think you will find it interesting.

Social Groups: Good or bad?

It’s almost a cliché now to say that humans are a social species. Social groups started out as a necessary way to survive. Groups offered protection from the elements, other animals and other humans but perhaps over time, our minds developed a dependency on socialaztion to prevent us from thinking that we could do it on our own; almost like a subconscious protection to keep us needing each other. But this dependency on socialization for our physical selves can have devastating effects on our mental health if we live in social isolation. Studies have proven that social isolation leads to cognitive decline, Alzheimer’s disease, depression, neuroticism and even hallucinations. This is why even in a modern world where we aren’t fighting off lions, social groups give a lot of advantages.

For one, support. Support from people in the dance community is the main reason so many people refer to the dancing community as their ‘Dance Family.’ I’ve seen countless examples of people in the dance community taking care of each other. From dance competitions set up to benefit a member that got injured and needs help with their medical bills (because we are mostly millennials getting screwed by our health care insurance, but that’s a topic for another day). I’ve even seen a dancer give a car to someone that needed it. We cook together and pray together before dinner. We go out to eat for special occasions and if someone can’t pay, we cover them because we don’t want them to miss out. We crash on each other’s couches. We call each other when we need to talk to someone and we encourage each other. And in many other ways we support each other.

Turns out there are actually four distinct types of support; emotional, informational, companionship, and tangible. Emotional support is given when we nurture each other. When a friend is going through a hard time and we tell them everything is going to be okay. I couldn’t even begin to count how many times I’ve been apart of an emotional support group in the girls’ bathroom at Red River and I never mind doing it because I’ve needed the same thing multiple times. Informational support is given when we give each other advice. In the dance community that revolves mostly around teaching each other to dance. We are constantly helping each other improve and grow in our dancing and it’s truly amazing to watch our abilities grow together because of this. The third type of support, companionship happens when we are just there for each other. When a friend goes with you to a doctors’ appointment. When they walk you to your car so that you’re safe. Sometimes I’ve had a bad day and just walking into the dance hall surrounded by friends that I know have my back, calms me down. They don’t even need to know that I needed them, just them being there is enough. The last type of support is tangible. This is when we throw competitions to help someone with bills as mentioned above or give someone a car when they need it. And that is truly amazing and speaks to how amazing people can be sometimes.

And while support from a social group or a companion is generally seen as a positive thing because support prevents many mental issues and raises self esteem; there are two things interesting about support that makes it a little more complicated. Studies have shown that if the wrong type of support is provided for what the person needs, then the support provided, even if the provider has the best intentions is completely useless and can actually have negative effects on the person’s mental health. For example, if I am seeking advice on how to spin better during a pattern in west coast swing, and someone tells me, “well I don’t know how to help you but I will stand next you while you practice.” Well that isn’t helpful; it’s just annoying. And also, now I’m self-conscious because it feels like you’re wordlessly judging me. Or if I ask for help with the spin and someone tells me everything is going to be okay and that I’m already a great dancer and I don’t need to worry about it. Um ok, also not helpful; just irritating because I don’t need to be consoled.

The wrong type of support can cause resentment and stress but another interesting thing about support from a group or another individual is that, it isn’t actually the received support that does the most good for us mentally, it’s actually the perceived support. It’s actually more beneficial to our mental health if we just THINK that we have ample support, it’s not that we have actually received it.

And while support groups are mostly a positive thing,  they can actually have a lot of negatives as well and these are not discussed nearly as much since we live in a highly social culture. For example, it is possible to give to much support. Sometimes we help each other too much and we become a crutch for our own self growth. And sometimes, groups themselves can become toxic. When the culture of the group turns honesty into passive aggressive criticism, the effects can be very negative. Also when people in the group never know where they stand, things have become toxic. Think about people that have won a competition or had the honor of judging a competition and people say behind their backs that they only won because of what they were wearing or people make snide remarks about the legitimacy of the person judging. These people take their jealousy out on others and when it becomes the norm in a group, many people suffer. And speaking of remarks behind people’s back, this brings me to a frequently discussed issue: gossip. Speaking negatively about people is only good when you are trying to protect someone and you are certain that what you are saying is true. Gossip hurts reputations and people and creates a general feeling of distrust in groups. Although gossip is never completely avoidable, it is a good idea to be conscious of when you start to talk about someone and maybe think twice before doing so.

And although is isn’t going to be a popular opinion in the dance community, I think a specific dance group issue is the social reward that is granted to the most show off individual. I know that we are dancers and to steal the spotlight is almost natural for us. But a culture that promotes constantly being the center of attention, outdoing each other, and encouraging each other to use dancing as a distraction from the work we need to do on ourselves;  simply isn’t healthy. It causes egos and arrogance to breed and diminishes growth and self awareness. It causes us to be fake with one another to gather support and increase attention instead of being real with each other. Respect through belt winning is short lived and hard to maintain. If we want to build a group that is successful and lasts for years to come and actually supports each other then we have to stop vying each other for attention and talking about each other behind their backs.

Links and citations are below:

How Isolation Impacts Mental Health

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_support

https://prezi.com/zns2vvddxk6k/positives-and-negatives-of-social-groups-on-adolescent-development/

A Little on Relationships

For the first time a few days ago, someone recognized me from my writing and I have to say it’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever received. I haven’t written in awhile because I couldn’t decide on the topic. I wanted to write about something interesting and at the very least entertaining. So I am going to go with a discussion piece about relationships. I’m not in any way claiming to be an expert or to be giving advice. This is merely a thought provoking article about romantic relationships with a dash of dating in the dance community. Disclaimer: This is not about one single personal relationship I have had, it is a general discussion from experience and observation.

One general thing that I have noticed is that we expect too much and put way too much pressure on our romantic relationships. We demand a certain amount of attention or affection. We expect to be contacted within certain time frames. We want it to progress and move along with meeting parents, moving in together, etc within a given deadline and we follow all of these rules about relationships that read on social media and then we wonder why relationships feel like so much work? Because we make them work. We push ourselves to go through the motions or do things we don’t want to do to get that promotion in a romantic relationship. And if we don’t get that relationship promotion in a timely manner we are upset and seek advice about how to hurry things along. We expect all of this control and progression in romantic relationships and we are told to marry our best friends and yet, our friendships are completely different.

For example the frequency of contact isn’t controlled nearly as much in friendships. Some friends we see almost everyday, a few we might message everyday, others we don’t see for months, and maybe one we don’t see for years but whenever you do see each other, it’s like you never stopped talking. The point is, every single friendship is different and everyone is completely ok with that. Friendships have very little pressure. Sometimes we have to support each other or go out of our way to maintain the friendship but mostly, the relationship continues naturally. When I feel like calling up my best friends because something is bothering me or I miss talking to them, I do it. Maybe weeks after our last call or maybe I had just called them the day before. But it doesn’t really matter, we don’t spend 20 minutes complaining that they haven’t given us enough attention. We just talk about what we want to talk about and then we go about our day. Most friendships build up to spending more time together and doing increasingly inconvenient favors for one another, but in romantic relationships; you’re supposed to devote all of this time and effort from DAY ONE.

I have some of the best relationships with my best friends because the relationship grew naturally, sure they’ve gone through tests of time or a few disagreements, but eventually, we learned to trust one other and know that we would be in each other’s lives for a long time. Maybe romantic relationships would be easier if we stopped putting so much pressure and so many expectations on them and we just let them progress naturally. Take out the advice columns that list 10 ways to get your boyfriend to marry you or those dozens of memes we see everyday on social media telling us to “pick the guy that does blah blah blah” and every thought and judgement about how relationships should progress and just be patient for it to happen intuitively. 

But I understand that it’s difficult to wait. Most of us want to be happy with one person and build a life together. But we have to be patient until we find that relationship that we want and trust just like we would a best friend. Of course I am scared that I’ll be waiting for so long that I’ll never find what I want but I read a statistic the other day that said that 60% of couples that get married at the age of 18 will get a divorce, while only 30% of couples that get married at age 23 will get a divorce and a mere 5% of couples that get married at age 35 will get a divorce. What that tells me is that, as hard as it is, waiting to be sure is the best thing for me and it should be everyone’s top priority. We shouldn’t judge people for waiting to be sure. There isn’t something wrong with someone because they are waiting. It takes way more determination to wait and focus on yourself and the things you love to do and ignore the judging eyes of ‘why hasn’t she settled down yet’ than to just settle.

And speaking of doing things we love to do, I wanted to talk a little bit about dating in the dance world. It has been a long-discussed topic amongst dancers whether they should date another dancer or not. We are around each other almost four times a week so we get comfortable with each other. We are passionate and we are talented. It’s a recipe for frequent relationships to pop up. And a lot of them stay together; their relationship grows out of a mutual love for dancing and they understand one another’s desire to dance ALL OF THE TIME. And the jealousy is minimized because they understand that we also just love to dance and hang out with our friends. These relationships can be great and they have the potential to last but if it doesn’t last; now you have another ex in the dancing community and then eventually everyone has dated everyone. Which is why a lot of dancers don’t date other dancers. They want dancing to be about dancing and nothing else, so they date outside of the dancing community. But with that benefit; comes a cost. For instance, non dancers or beginner dancers may not understand you or your desire to dance. They may get jealous or worried about you dancing with other attractive talented people that you seem really close to spinning and dipping and being lifted into the air, while they stand on the sidelines struggling to do a basic turn from front to back. They start to feel bad that they can’t dance as well as you or as some of your friends and even though we console them and tell them that they are the one we want; insecurities and resentment soon develops from at least one side. From the dancer, if he/she stops dancing to appease their partner or from the non dancer if their anxiety consumes them. So what should we do then? Date a dancer or a non dancer? I don’t have the answer. But I do think that even though we’ve all experienced or witnessed the struggles from both perspectives, it’s important that we talk about them so that we understand each other and adapt our viewpoints so that in the end, we can find some happiness and achieve our goals.

Why do we dance? Why do we compete?

Bar dancing competition season is in full swing, we’ve got competitions at Round Up in Dallas every Tuesday, we had a competition in San Antonio this past weekend and the big competition coming up at Cowboys Red River in Dallas is less than a month away to name a few. There is so much work, dedication and drama involved in competing, we have to ask ourselves every once in awhile, why do we do it? Why do we travel hours from our home towns to compete for the chance to win a belt or a few hundred dollars? But before I talk about why we compete in bar competitions, I first want to talk about why we dance.

In case you don’t know me personally, I consider myself to be a dancer. I dance at least four nights a week, I help teach group and private dance lessons and I compete regularly. But the line between dancer and non-dancer isn’t always clear and I don’t remember the exact moment I decided to call myself a dancer. I also suspect that professional ballet or ballroom dancers might not even consider me a dancer at all and that’s okay too. I consider myself a dancer; not because of my perceived skill or because I teach, but because of the time and effort I’ve put into it. When I started choosing dancing over other things that I loved, like video games or sleeping in, I started calling myself a dancer. When the passion flared, I had to start claiming that I was a dancer.

But what started it all? I got into dancing because a friend of mine kept asking me to go with her. I was a shy engineering student that was going through a break up and didn’t think it was something I’d enjoy. But after about the fortieth time she asked me, she introduced me to one of her male friends. Someone I almost immediately began to crush on, he asked me to join him out dancing and I agreed. But to my dismay, he wouldn’t spend a lot of time dancing with me because I was absolutely terrible. I wish I had videos from that early on because it would be nice to see how much I’ve progressed in the last four years. To see the evolution of the hours I practiced and beat myself up watching videos of myself would be really valuable. But anyways, because this guy that I had a crush on wouldn’t dance with me, I decided in an instant of irritation, ‘screw him, I can learn to do this. I don’t need him.’ Looking back though, he really only knew basics but I’m thankful that he gave me the push I needed to become the dancer I am today.

Because of this experience, I’ve asked several people why they started learning to dance and the individual reasons are all over the place, from my girlfriend made me come out to I was bored and wanted to meet new people. And those answers are always mildly amusing to me, but the most fascinating question that I love asking is, Why do you dance? Ask any dancer this, and they’ll get quiet and stare up into the sky thinking about their answer and every single time, their answers are uniquely attached to their passion. We choose dancing over almost every other activity because we love the chemistry, the connection, the music, the exercise, and just the overall feeling and high of having a great dance with someone else. We are traveling around in circles to get our hearts and minds somewhere.

The amazing thing though is that the reason we like dancing so much actually has neurological explanations based on our brain chemistry. Exercising, listening to music and touch all increase chemicals in the brain known as serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin. These chemicals are commonly referred to as the love chemicals. Serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin are the same chemicals in our brain that make us feel like we are in love. When we dance, we are touching our partner, we are listening to music and we are exercising almost every muscle in our body, therefore our mind basically falls in love with dancing. Like a school grade crush, we can’t get enough of it and we find ourselves choosing dancing over other things in our lives that we thought we enjoyed. And it isn’t a short term love either. I have been dancing for four years myself, and I have friends that have been dancing for decades of their lives going on to become well respected teachers and competitors.

So we are spending all of this time learning to dance and dancing socially are there any health benefits associated with dancing? The health benefits of dancing are actually endless. For myself, I know that I went from a shy engineer to an outgoing socialite with a higher self esteem. I got more muscle tone and improved my balance. Not to mention, my fear of performing in front of people has almost completely vanished. But dancing has also been shown to improve flexibility, spatial awareness, weight management and lower stress. All things that help slow mental decline, improve blood pressure and overall health. I know several people that also use dancing as a motivator to accomplish other things in their lives as well; telling ourselves that we may go dancing tonight if we finish this presentation for work or some other task we may normally procrastinate. And a running joke in the dancing community is that dancers don’t physically or mentally age. Many people who have been dancing for years simply don’t look their age and we tend to joke that it’s because we all dance consistently. While I doubt dancing literally stops lines from forming on our faces it does seem to help us in a lot of ways. Of course, dancing comes with certain injury risks, especially if you regularly include aerials, more complicated dances or even dance on crowded dance floors. But even taking that into consideration, dancing is one of the few exercises that is easy on our joints and has the lowest risk of injuries in relation to other sports and forms of exercise.

While simply dancing has all of the benefits I mentioned plus several more, it is interesting that so many of us take it to the next level and begin to compete in bar competitions. So now the question is, Why do we compete? Without going too deep into biology, competition is wired into our human nature. Some scientists say that it goes back to our desire to survive and in modern times it gets transferred to other skills and areas. It’s almost natural for us to work hard at something and then when we get to a certain level, we suddenly decide to compete against others in the same skill. But I think while this natural progression initially motivates us and interests us in competing; what is actually stronger than competition is cooperation. Why else would Jacob Reding or Mike McKinney show us a move knowing that we are going to be competing against them? Either because they have no fear that we will ever reach their level or because if they make us better through teaching and cooperating with us, then they have to make themselves better as well. And then over time, we somehow build these long term relationships that consistently push each other to learn more and to get better. What started out as a plea to a professional to learn how to move our hands the right way after we do that one spinny move, turns into a friendship. And then several competitions later, we find ourselves with our arms around each others’ backs, hours from our homes, thanking God for our food and laughing together as a family before the next competition. And then, the next morning, we sit down at breakfast after the competition, encouraging each other, laughing at our mess ups and being proud of our friends for doing their best or even beating us.

Of course, negatives arise in competing. Drama happens. Rumors spread. We fight and we argue. We get our feelings hurt with certain feedback. We are generally too hard on the judges, we overly criticize the competition setup and we are the hardest on ourselves when we don’t do as well as we’d hoped. But I think that while we push ourselves to compete it is important to recognize that the thing that is truly binding us all together, is cooperation and the little moments we have together sharing our passion and laughter.

Thank you for reading.

RedRiverGirl

What are your thoughts on the article above? Why do you consider yourself a dancer? Why do you dance? How has dancing helped you physically or mentally? Why do you compete? What are the negative and positive aspects of dancing and competing that you’ve seen? And if you don’t dance, it’s never to late to start!

Logan’s Myopia

I wrote this short story as a creative exercise around the word of the day: Myopic, which is an adjective describing someone or something that lacks imagination, foresight or intellectual thought.

Logan stared at his computer wondering where the last two days had gone. He’d been so obsessed with solving the code for his company’s program that he’d only moved from his desk to heat up dinner, go to the bathroom or take a shower. Wait, had he taken a shower? He couldn’t remember. He had three excel sheets, countless browsers and the company’s data processing program that they called Myopia. He had officially finished it almost four hours ago but now he was rechecking it just to make sure. He ran it again. It succeeded. No error messages. He leaned back in his chair and looked outside. The sun was out and a slight breeze was blowing through the green leaves of the tree outside of his window. Maybe he could take a shower and see if Amelia wanted to go grab some dinner. He was suddenly very hungry. Amelia was a girl he’d taken on a couple of dates the past week or so. Logan checked his phone for messages. She’d sent him 14 messages and called him three times, all expressing anger that he hadn’t talked to her for the past two days. He honestly didn’t understand how she could get so upset, Logan had been clear with her that when he got focused on a problem, little else mattered outside of that. He messaged her, ignoring her angry messages and said Would you like to go get something to eat? Logan waited for a moment for her to respond and then through the phone on the bed and jumped up to take a shower.

Ten minutes later, Logan emerged from the shower and checked his phone. Who is this? Logan eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Sure it had been a couple days but it didn’t make since for her to forget him completely. He decided not to respond sarcastically. Logan, we went on a couple of dates last week. Do you remember?  The three dots pulsated on his phone screen. No I don’t remember you. Please leave me alone. Amelia responded. Logan’s mouth opened in disbelief. He’d had girls ghost him or tell him he was ugly or boring or to nice or thought he was smarter than them but they had all at least remembered him. And to go from the angry messages and phone calls to completely not remembering him didn’t make any sense at all. Logan continued to stare at his phone. Thinking about their dates and the sex on the second date. Surely he’d at least been memorable. Logan rubbed his forehead. His stomach growled. The hunger pain returned. Logan decided to drive the two blocks to the gas station for a snack and say hi to Ramone, the store owner that lived in the back room and always popped out, even if he had a clerk on duty to say hi. Logan grabbed his jacket and a little cash and left the house. His neighbor, Tom, was outside mowing his lawn.

                “Hey, Tom!” Logan called. Tom stopped walking the mower and stared at him. He didn’t smile. He didn’t wave back. He simply stared at him. Okay, nevermind. Logan muttered under his breath. He got in his car and watched as Tom turned, faced forward again and continued pushing the lawn mower.

                At EZ Shop, Logan entered the front door as he usually did. The bell of the door chimed and echoed throughout the small store. “Hello, welcome customer, I will be right there!” Ramone yelled from the back room. “Hi, Ramone!” Logan said as he headed straight for the cooler with the Mountain Dew and a frozen hot pocket and then walked to the counter. Ramone stood professionally on the other side of the counter. His dark brown hair and mustached neatly combed. “Hello, sir, will that be all for you today?” Ramone asked. Logan raised an eyebrow. “Um, yes. Why are you talking to me like that?” Logan asked. “Oh, I’m sorry sir, it was not my intention to offend you.” Ramone replied. Logan handed the man acting like he was a stranger the money. Logan was so speechless he didn’t even know how to talk to him to get him to be normal. He took his snack and drink and left. He’d been visiting Ramone in his convenience store for almost three years now. Why was he suddenly treating him like a new customer? Logan was a little bothered, after all the effort he’d put into that relationship, arguably the relationship with your local convenience store clerk was one of the most important ones if you didn’t want get embarrassed at buying condoms at 3am or buying three Gatorades the next morning after the hangover had taken over. He opened his other messages. One was from his mother, asking him to call her when he was free next. She’d sent the message two hours ago.

                Logan pressed the call button. His own mother had to remember him at least. “Hey Logan, something weird is going on. Your father is acting like he doesn’t know me. And he just started frantically cleaning the house for the past four hours.” She said. “Stepfather. Mom.” Logan corrected. “Fine. Your stepfather, Logan. You’re missing the point.” She said. “Sorry Mom. Yeah I’ve ran into something similar. This girl I was talking to, and my neighbor and the store clerk are acting like they don’t know me too. You’re the first person I’ve talked to that has remembered me.” Logan said. “There has to be some sort of explanation. It’s only a few people acting weird. Maybe there is an ozone alert or something?” His mother said. “Hey mom, let me call you back in a minute.” Logan said. He opened his email and found a message from his boss. His boss hadn’t spoken to him two weeks, since the last time he’d checked on the program Logan had been working on. The email read:

Hello Logan,

Thank you for completing the program for Myopia. It is officially finished and now that it’s finished I would like to completely explain to you its’ purpose since the people around you are going to start acting different. Myopia was commissioned by the President of the United States. The code that you created reaches everyone in the world that comes into contact with the internet and carefully examines their processing skills to determine whether the person is capable of broad complicated thought or if they are more shortsighted. If they are more shortsighted all memories that interfere with their primary productive purpose in society are wiped. The code will not affect you. As we still need you, however, you are now blocked from altering the code for Myopia just in case you felt the desire to rewire its’ purpose. I will contact you soon for more information as the effects of Myopia is realized throughout the world.

Thank you for your amazing talent and efforts,

Mark

Of all the thoughts and concerns that could have popped into his head, Logan immediately said out loud, “I knew my stepdad was a dumbass.”

Thank you for reading! My next article will be focused on dance etiquette.

Always Text Me Novels or You Don’t Love Me!

I haven’t really decided what this blog is going to focus on. But I think, like myself, it’s going to have difficulties focusing on anything specific. Some articles might be a rant over a hot topic or something that I read that irritated me, others might be short stories and others might be writing exercises that I just wrote to get myself out of a creative slump and basically make no sense. This post, my first blog post, is a rant on the meme I read on Facebook that said, “when those texts start getting shorter with you they’re getting longer with someone else.” I am by no means a relationship expert. I have no idea what I’m doing in my own relationships, romantic or not, about 80% of the time. However, I think this concept is ridiculous from a literal perspective.

The literal meaning is setting the relationship expectation that you must always send me long text messages, or you must be cheating/interested in someone else. I know that when I read that message, my first thought was to evaluate the length of the text messages between my significant other and myself. I realized that they weren’t ever that long. But that we do spend hours on the phone when we can’t see each other and hours talking when we can see each other. So then why am I evaluating our relationship based on the length of text messages that he sends me? I shouldn’t be. Because that is ridiculous. We don’t evaluate our friendships with that precedent. Sometimes my best friend and I wont talk for two weeks because we are busy or something else is going on in our lives. According to that meme, they have now replaced me as a close friend. So then why do we hold our relationships to this crazy standard that you must always send me long text messages? We often expect way more from our romantic relationships than our friendships, which I think is also ridiculous but I’ll save that for a different post.

Now most of you are going to say, Brittani, you are taking this to literally. It’s just a meme. Yes, I’m frequently guilty of taking things to literally. Ok fine, metaphorically what the statement is alluding to is that we should pay attention to the responsiveness of our significant other and to the non-romantic relationships that we spend time investing on. This concept I agree with. The relationships that I’ve been in that have given me the most satisfaction and fulfillment are the ones that I can rely on them to be there for me when I need them. If I send a message to my boyfriend, even if he’s super busy, he’ll send me a message saying, “I’m stuck in a conference, I will respond as soon as I’m free.” Or to my best friends that I trust with all my secrets if I call them and they can’t talk, they always call me back later. But if I messaged them saying, no this is an emergency, I’m going through a crisis, I can count on them to at least attempt to drop everything and contact me. Think back to all of the relationships that you yearned for, begging them to pay attention to you. They left you on seen for 10 hours over a simple question like “are you free tomorrow to get some dinner?” And you’re turning away other plans on the hopes that they will say they want to see you. Miserable and dark times. If you are still chasing after people like that then I feel for you. And this message is for you. Don’t try hard for someone that is giving you that awful sad feeling of being ignored in the pit of your stomach. Drop them. Then show them what they missed out on.

Anyways, I’m getting distracted, my whole point is that we read things like this and we immediately evaluate our relationships based on one dimension concerning the length of our text messages. Which I don’t think is a healthy thing to do. If someone sent me that message, my immediate response would probably be something like “Well then be less boring.”

What are your thoughts? Is there anything you would add to my evaluation of this otherwise harmless Facebook meme?

Thank you for reading,

RedRiverGirl